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Chapter 4 - First Fairy

Zelda's heart raced as she pulled on her navy, wool skirt and buttoned her blouse. She was ready to start class but only wished she had gotten more sleep. The late nights with elusive sleep were something entirely new to her as of that summer, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from making this her best year at Madame LeBleu's yet. She had a legacy to live up to with five older sisters to come through the school before her. 10

She gathered her books, notebooks, and extra pens for class, but as she headed for the door, she remembered something crucial – her wand. She opened the top drawer of her desk. Pushing aside the tabloid with Prince Leopold's face on it, which she had stuffed in there without reading, Zelda quickly found the long wooden box that held her wand. She stuffed it in her bag with the rest of the supplies.

A grassy quad separated the main academic building from the dormitory and she had to run to make it across in time for class. She flew through the gaping wooden doors of the large, stone building that lead to the main floor. Her new shoes clicked pleasantly on the glassy marble floor and she breathlessly slipped into the history room just as the bell chimed for classes to begin.

"Why am I not surprised?" a deep voice asked from the front of the classroom.

"Sorry, professor," Zelda said. Her cheeks flushed as twenty three heads turned to look at her.

"Take a seat, Miss Ravensdale," Professor Grayson Weymouth said, gesturing to the last open desk at the very front of the room.

"I hope you all had a restful summer..." Professor Weymouth began as Zelda made her way to the front of the class, careful not to knock her classmates with her giant bag of books. Imogen gave Zelda an apologetic smile when she passed. She had probably tried to save her a seat for as long as she could. Zelda settled into the desk at the front and pulled out her history notebook.

"...This year will be the truest test of your capability to be a fairy godmother, and I will warn you now... Not every girl who goes through Madame LeBleu's will get their wings," the professor continued, his words serious but his tone kind. Professor Weymouth was the only male instructor at Madame LeBleu's, and therefore the only one who didn't have the gift of magic (fairies only passed magic on to their daughters) but that didn't prevent him from being a perennial favorite.

According to Zelda's older sisters, the last history professor had been a terrible bore, an old lady with bad breath and a monotone voice. Professor Weymouth, on the other hand, had a way of making an otherwise dull subject interesting. Magic was his passion, even if he didn't have it, and it showed in his teaching style. It also didn't hurt that he was in his early thirties and not bad on the eyes in a school full of girls alone.

Zelda felt guilty for coming in late to her favorite professor's class but she felt suddenly worse as he looked at her when he mentioned that not all fairies got their wings. Why had he looked right at her? Zelda had always been more than just a decent student – she was even at the top of the class. But had he cautioned her? Or was the glance a mere coincidence?

"You all have the talent; every one of you has the raw potential to become a Fairy Godmother. But Madame LeBleu is looking for polish, not just potential," the professor said, turning to the chalkboard to outline the semester's syllabus.

Zelda tried her best to pay attention, but she found her mind drifting everywhere but the classroom. When the bell rang for classes to change, she hadn't taken a single note. "Oh, batwings," she cursed looking at the empty lined pages.

"Don't worry, I got it all down," Imogen said, stopping at Zelda's desk.

Zelda shouldered her bag. "Thanks," she replied as they headed into the hall packed with girls in white and navy blue. Ava materialized on the opposite of Zelda. Her blonde curls pulled back with a blue ribbon into a ponytail that bounced with her every step.

Ava's wary smile mimicked the sick feeling in Zelda's stomach. "Did you guys know not all girls get their wings, because I did not know that."

"No!" Imogen chimed in.

Zelda shifted her bag nervously. "I'd heard something like that from my sisters."

Ava made a disgusted noise. "I'm sure the other teachers made Professor Weymouth tell us since they all know he is our favorite."

"Probably," Imogen scoffed as they turned to head up the sweeping marble staircase that led to the second floor, and the location of the charms lab.

"Are you okay, Zelda?" Ava asked, placing a gentle hand on Zelda's arm. "You look tired and I didn't see you take notes in history."

"I'm fine," Zelda said, putting on her cheeriest smile. "I just didn't get much sleep is all." It was mostly true, but she had often wondered if it was just a side effect of a broken heart. It also didn't help that Dante made regular appearances in her nightmares. She was over him, she told herself. But his memory didn't seem to be over her.

While they usually had classes every other day, they had charms Monday through Friday this year to give them time to perfect the most advanced spells they would need to grant wishes. The charms classroom was long, with desks at one end and a practice space at the other. It had high ceilings and tall windows that filled the mahogany paneled room with morning sunlight. The class assembled, picking the desks would sit in for the year. Professor Blanche Hildebrandt glided into the classroom from her adjoining office.

"Hello and good morning, my future godmothers," she said in her measured and musical voice, her hands clasped gently in front of her heart. Professor Blanche Hildebrandt was a curvy woman with round, rosy cheeks and was everything the Gits strived to be: poised, gentle, and wise. Today she wore a tea length yellow dress and cardigan that cinched in at her waist to give her an elegant hourglass shape. Zelda had never seen her without her white hair tucked into an immaculate french twist.

"I hope you all practiced the basic and intermediate spells this summer because we will be jumping right in this year. This first week will be a refresher but next week we will start right on our first unit: Ballgowns."

The mention of dressmaking spells sent a din of giggles and excited whispers among the fourth years. Zelda wanted to feel excited, but she only felt nervous. She hadn't picked up her wand all summer. Hadn't even opened the box. Charms had always been her best subject, but now she wished she had done more than just reread the charm theory book on the train.

"As you may know, at the end of this year, Madame LeBleu, the other instructors and I will be choosing the First Fairy for your wing presentation ceremony. This is the greatest honor that can be bestowed upon a godmother and will give that godmother first choice from the available territories that she will serve until her retirement."

The girls quieted immediately as the topic of First Fairy was brought up. Zelda shifted to the edge of her seat, listening with rapt attention. A hand raised towards the front of the room.

"Yes, Miss St. Germain?"

Zelda watched Susan toss her platinum hair over her shoulder before she spoke so it hung down her back in a wall of silky blonde. "And how will the First Fairy be decided?" she asked.

"Good question," Professor Hildebrandt replied, giving Susan St. Germain a pleased smile. Everyone gave Susan that same smile. Susan's father owned St. Germain's Shoe Emporium, and was arguably the most influential man in Erimount outside the royal family. That fact alone made Susan an instant favorite among the professors and the girls in Zelda's class she deigned to speak to. Influential father or not, Susan had been the best in the class since the first day. She had a natural inclination for everything they did. So much so that a rumor even went around that she was a descendant of the first fairy godmother. Imogen had a theory Susan started the rumor herself. Still, it wasn't a surprise Susan wanted to know the exact judging criteria.

"We will make the choice based on many factors. Your overall class performance. Decorum and poise shown in and out of class. Adherence to the rules of Godmothers. Service to the community. Selflessness shown towards others. And whatever other criteria we see fit to discuss and its impact on your future as a fairy godmother."

It was a lot to pay attention to, Zelda thought. But she knew nothing was impossible for her once she set her mind to it – at least she hoped.

"And I happen to know that there will be one new territory in particular that might be incentive for you all to put your best foot forward. I have it on good faith that the fairy godmother whose territory includes the country of Olisand is planning to retire this spring."

"Olisand is going to be open?" Henrietta Barnes exclaimed, earning her a glare from Professor Hildebrandt for speaking out of turn.

"Indeed, and there is a lot of prestige associated with this post as Olisand has the highest concentration of wishes of all territories and the reputation as a city of happily ever afters."

Zelda watched Susan cut her friend Willa Bradford a knowing smirk, as if she already knew Erimount would be among the available territories. The smug smile on her pink tinted lips simply confirmed that Susan thought Erimount was as good as hers. Zelda glared at the back of Susan's head. "Over my dead body," she grumbled. If there was anything Zelda loved, it was the city of Erimount. In her four years at Madame LeBleu's she had come to know and love the city as much as the friends she made in it. If she could have picked any place in the world to serve her mandatory ten years of service, she would have chosen Erimount. That was the price for admission into the school, a placement of ten years – or longer if they wanted – in an open territory of the fairy's choosing. But Erimount hadn't been open for twenty-five years. Some girls had even wondered if Erimount had a designated Fairy Godmother at all. But it did, and Zelda had to be it.

The classroom buzzed with hurried conversation. "Oh now, I have you all riled up. I fear we aren't going to get anything productive done today," Professor Hildebrandt fussed at the front of the class. And indeed they didn't.

The air of excitement, and renewed competition, carried through to lunch as girls huddled together and shared predictions of the top competitors for First Fairy in whispers and carefully concealed notes. When Zelda entered the dining hall she caught a few sideways glances in her direction.

"I think you're one of the front runners," Imogen said, giving Zelda a playful nudge.

Several heads turned as they entered. "They could be watching you."

Imogen snorted and released a loud "Ha!" More heads turned at the noise. "My only goal is not end up somewhere like remote Alaska. I'm hoping someplace warm."

The large dining hall filled with hopeful first fairies felt suddenly too small.

"Do you guys want to go out for lunch," Zelda offered. "We have a whole hour this year."

"Sure," Ava said. "They're serving meatloaf already."

"I'm in," Imogen added before they headed out, a dozen or so pairs of eyes on their backs. They wove through a pack of first years rushing between classes and quickly left the ivy covered walls of Madame LeBleu's behind.

They hopped a trolley car and took a five minute ride to the river district which had the widest selection of cuisines in the city. The girls ordered galettes from a street vendor touting authentic french cuisine, then headed to the nearest park along the river bank. They found a cozy cherry tree close enough to the river to sit under and where they could toss pieces of the savory pancakes to the ducks which floated by. The galette reminded Zelda of home, but she had enough on her mind to keep her from feeling homesick.

"So where would you like your territory to be, Ava?" Zelda asked.

Ava shrugged and pushed a blonde curl back into her ponytail. "I dunno. I would like someplace near my family. Back in America would be preferable."

Zelda nodded. Having five sisters as fairy godmothers meant her family was already scattered around the world. At least for the time being. She was about to inquire how Ava had spent her summer but a loud whooping noise caught their attention. Several boys on oddly shaped bikes were riding at breakneck speed down the sloping road past the park.

"The tinkers!" Ava exclaimed, jumping from her spot under the tree. Zelda and Imogen jumped up too.

"Oy!" Zelda called after them, waving her hands like a mad woman. Two of them kept going but one stopped, turned, and began to pedal back up the hill.

"It's Specs," Imogen said with a laugh. "Specs!" she called out with a wave.

They abandoned their spot and ran down the sidewalk to meet the boy with the goggles halfway.

"Thaddeus," Zelda cooed, using the boy's given name.

The tall, lanky boy hopped off the bike he had likely constructed for himself. "Zelda," he exclaimed, wrapping her into a hug. "I missed you this summer. And Ava. Imogen." He hugged them all in turn before removing his goggles. "How are my favorite Gits doing this fine afternoon?" He pushed his floppy blonde hair out of his face, smudging bicycle grease across his forehead in the process. "Don't your classes start today?"

"Yep," Imogen replied. "We decided to take lunch out on the town. They're already serving us meatloaf."

"I'm glad." Thaddeus smiled. "Well – not glad about the meatloaf – glad I ran into you all."

"Us to," Zelda replied. "Sorry we took you from your friends and it doesn't look like they are waiting up for you."

"It's fine," Thaddeus said, waving her off. "I was just walloping Alfred McKinney's butt in a race so I'll probably get an earful when I catch up."

Imogen stood up on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair. "Are you taller? I think you got taller!"

"Two whole inches," he said, straightening.

"Impressive," Ava laughed. "Someone's been eating his spinach."

Zelda laughed too, finally feeling some of the weight she had been carrying lift from her shoulders. "So when do your classes start?" she asked.

If Erimount was known for anything beside shoes and wishes, it was known for its world class tinkers – creators of intricate and often tiny metal machines. Thaddeus was a student of Lord Scarlet's Academy of Tinkers: the most prestigious school for tinkers in the world. He had gotten the nickname Specs from the Gits as he had a habit of leaving his magnifying spectacles (the glasses the apprentices used for tinkering with tiny gears) atop his head.

"Next Monday," Thaddeus replied.

"We'll have to celebrate next week!" Zelda offered as Thaddeus mounted his bike and lowered his goggles.

"Sure thing. It was great seeing you all but I've got to catch up to the guys or I'll never hear the end of it. See you around!"

"See ya!" they echoed, and Specs took off down the hill, whooping like a banshee as he went.