Anxiety. It's something in your brain that you can't control all the time.
Schala Claymore walked down a stone path in downtown Picquery, her eyes on the ground before her. She silently counted her steps while her mind was aflutter with thoughts.
Schala never knew the name of her affliction, not at first. Many people in Augurey deal with it, but they rarely spoke about it, not even in confidence.
Her first panic attack came during her sister's first big party when they were both ten. The sheer amount of faces made her feel like suffocating.
Schala could never confide in her parents; to her mother, mostly, it felt like she was trying to make excuses for herself.
She unconsciously stepped around people going about their lives. Buildings of stone and mortar encroached upon her the further she walked, and she idly rubbed her gloved hands.
Picquery was a prominent place, a capital city, and the ratio of structures to people could be considered annoying. Schala looked up at them; they formed a stone canopy that eclipsed many streets.
The Magus's Academy wasn't far now. It would take precisely 2,542 steps to get there, and Schala was on step 1,158. She walked expediently, avoiding eye contact with the people she passed. She walked right through their shadow and appeared in the corner of their eye. A fleeting sight of a young woman, a seventeen-year-old with violet hair, and she liked it that way.
"I'm not making excuses, mother," Schala spoke under her breath. "It's not something I can just get out of my head."
She replayed the events of fifteen minutes ago - another argument with her mother, another futile attempt to convey her feelings. Her Mastery exam was today, and the chosen test was a duel with an opponent who "knew her very well."
"It's not something I can get out of my head," she paraphrased. "My brain goes from calm as a creek to turbulent as a typhoon in a blink. I'm stuck in a foot race I'm not prepared for, begging for the proctor to disqualify me. But instead, I'm begging my mind."
Schala switched voices, heightened her pitch, and responded to herself, "You're too young to be overthinking so much. If you'd focus on what's important, like your obligations to the family and clan, then you won't have time to be thinking so hard."
Her mother's voice was stern, aloof, and fastidious, a not-so-flattering mockup of the calculated retorts to her pleas.
Schala continued walking. Her step count rose, but she paid no attention.
"It feels like pages in a book switching without warning. More and more chapters just open in my mind. Who am I facing? Have I prepared enough? Will I win? Can I win?"
She finally stopped in her tracks. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of the street, where a large vehicle that belched a thick, silver plume of steam honked at her.
Schala jumped and realized where she was. She walked back onto the sidewalk and felt pain in her palms. She turned them upward and saw small pricks in the skin; she had been clenching her fist and digging her nails in.
"I'm a mess," Schala said loud enough for her to hear. "More and more thoughts, I can't control."
She took a moment, closed her eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. She assured herself that she was ready.
"That's not what the voices in my head tell me," Schala thought. "No matter what I've said, I can't force out the negative thoughts."
Schala continued her walk - she was up to 2,045 now - and exhaled deeply through her nostrils.
"What if it's her?" Schala took quick sucks of air and clenched her fists. "I can't deal with her in a duel. I just can't."
She gasped softly and inhaled. People were nearby, looking questionably in her direction, murmuring to themselves. Her dark brown cheeks emitted a beet red hue, and she walked off in a hurry. She picked up the tail of her tunic to break into a brisk jog.
The Magus's Academy towered above Schala like a menacing ziggurat. Its structure reminded people near and far of a toadstool; the architects built it with blessed wood strewn from the tree that sits in the middle of the world, the World Tree. As a result, the entire building acted as a self-contained field of magic.
The doors cluttered with other academy students; they gathered around a young woman with sapphire dreadlocks. Schala could not see the object of attention, but it bore no importance; she had to get inside.
Schala squeezed waded through the mostly-male crowd. The sea of raging hormones threatened to capsize her, so she shoved her way through until she reached the open doors and stepped inside.
She stopped suddenly. Schala thought she heard someone call her name. She couldn't listen to it again; the chattering of the admirers of whoever-that-was at the door engulfed the remnant sound of the entrance.
Schala walked towards the flight of stairs at the end of the main lobby, and her heels clicked endlessly against the marble floor. She didn't want to stand out, not for being the girl with the noisy stilettos. She picked up her pace - the staircase wasn't far now - but that made the matter worse. The clacking merely increased in tempo, akin to a drummer's cadence in a musical performance.
She made it to the staircase, and her cheeks went beet red again. Schala had walked past several people who all discussed the big event that was to take place that day. Now their attention was on her.
"Just calm down," Schala uttered as she climbed the stairs. "They're all here for the duel...your duel. They're here to see if you become a Master."
Schala stopped just a few steps from her desired floor and gripped the railing. Her knees buckled, and her body tightened. She clutched at her stomach, which felt like she got rammed with a cannonball.
The sensation felt like it would last forever. Moments dragged on in Schala's head as her body battled for control.
Sounds echoed around her. Schala heard her name reverberating, floating upon a sea of waves. She looked up and saw an older man with olive skin offering her a hand to help.
Schala's head floated. She fought to stabilize herself, and once she stood upright, she drew in deep breaths and moved her arms before her and out to her sides.
Her heartbeat calmed. Her body loosened, and her stomach eased. Not completely, but it was a start.