1
"Time to wake up, sweetie."
The world lits up as Dia opens up the curtains on the windows.
"Out from the shallow now." She snaps before throwing some bread on the small steel pit, placed on the table, beside my mattress.
"Why is it still burning every morning?" She tosses a bucket of water onto my fireplace using her own magick while I clamber out of my bed.
"C'mon! We got to hurry! The maidens will punish us if we are late this time."
Right. Non-stop learning of the Manifesto that bores me to death.
"I can hear you." Dia shoots back and glances at me while heading straight to the Garde robe.
She thrashes my plain black and grey ruffle long sleeve round neck dress at my face and simultaneously, sets down my boots next to my feet.
"Ten minutes or I will peek inside while you're changing." She declares on her knees, in front of me, before leaving.
Gross.
"I heard you!" Dia screams outside behind the door. By then, I start arranging myself from grooming my bed, filling in my hunger, a minute spared on the bathroom, up to facing myself into my own length reflector.
Every day, I stare at this same somebody and ache to be home. There, I am the only daughter of a widowed beautiful woman. I didn't have to ask for anything nor compare myself with others. I am but myself. Not a schooler who got nothing nor someone who has to dress up according to own's potentiality... To be labelled and be separated from others.
"Again?" Dia sweeps in into the room, then drags me outside.
Marching with the other initiates who stay next to my cabin, or should I say, in this edifice, is what I hate the most. Everybody in the hallway is wearing their respective traits. Red for Pyro initiates, yellow for Aero, green for Terra, blue for Aqua, and for someone like me who does not have anything, has to wear black clothing. Their dresses were coupled with white, while grey is for us. Dia, of course, wears blue. She's an Aqua initiate. A developed magick practitioner that everyone recognizes her as the next Arabella, protector of Water. And as her best friend ever since, I know that she will be.
"Your stare says envy." She whispers, squeezing my hands.
"Don't be." She continues before leaving me to my appropriate line.
She caught me again. It's true that I am jealous of her, she knows that but I will never be happy losing her. If it is declared that she is the next Arabella, then she has to abandon living as a human entity. All chosen protectors must sacrifice their blood and acquire divinity. Dia wants her magick to be of helpful badly as much as she doesn't wish to be a chosen one. She wants to be a maiden, our worldly keepers and not just of a good protector spirit in existence.
I walk to my supposed lineup. Fortunately, I am not the only one who puts on black and grey apparel, and though, we are a count less than one hand, we found belongingness on each other. Well, I don't know if they felt it, but I am.
"Hey, kook." Two gentlemen with a cool and stylish messy top taper faded hairstyle, Philip and Ash, greet me. They both came from the South quarter, home for Pyros. The distinguishable trait of a Pyro, besides from the distinct aura of a warrior that I could sense from them, is their mini tattoo of flame on their napes, and Philip and Ash both have it.
"Hey, dozer." Tris waves at front. She came from the North Quarter, sheltered by Terras. For Terras, they tend to have a built-in strong personality and Tris is one among the living proofs that I have. The crystals around the body of a Terra are their unique peculiarity.
"Ayo, boredoms!" Max howls from behind, heading towards his supposed line− to the front of Aero initiates, as he was acknowledged as their leader. Like Dia, Max knows advanced magicks of his field. He's the next Ero, they said.
"You look so beautiful in black." He winks at me. Aeros from the East quarter is known by their subtleness and intelligence. But unfortunately, Max uses his trait to secretly mock at anyone. His superiority in performing his abilities yield fears for everybody among his field and my way to keep him from chattering is ignoring.
It is fortunate to say that I grew up with the same quarter as Dia. We practice peace and kindness or how to lure your anger into mildness, that a great retribute to a mockery is stability. That case, they will get tired of doing what they're doing and soon will stop on their own.
"No-el." Tris suddenly says as she moves in front of me.
"No-el," I repeat, beamingly.
No-el is a word for nothingness, meaning, treat something like it doesn't exist, not a friend nor an enemy.
The ceremony to commemorate the beginning of the week starts that turn everyone's attention to the stage. Our top maiden, Ora, now has to speak the incantation to bless the week. But my interest goes to the trees behind the stage. Every week, I see a frame of a man on his hat standing and eyeing the initiates behind those trees and today's not an exception. His creepy appearance steals my focus again. I don't know if someone has already seen him or that he sees me but I just can't get away from looking at him.
"Forever we'll be loyal
To the Lawyers of Light Morals
To Aire and to our God."
The last line of our prayer brought me back to the stage and when I take a glimpse on the trees, the shadow is gone. It's time now for the four of us to walk into our room, while the potentials will remain on the field, learning combats with their magicks.
The speaker is writing something about the Values of Light on the board when Tris strikes a crumpled paper at me. For no given reason, we are not bound to sit right next to each other, so throwing a paper is a must for us to chat, especially when speakers pave their way to the board.
"We will have Professor Ton later, and save your lunch, we'll explore," Tris' handwriting says on the note.
Five hours of reading and memorizing the Manifesto is a scrap talk for me. Though it must be treated with respect and honour, I confess that it's too depressing to handle. Mercifully, our two hours for today will be with Professor Ton, whose aside from his young look, shares interesting stories and very informative tales of how and what must come for the potentials and their magicks; of the things beyond the Manifesto; that opposites do exist which is, the enemy of light and of our world Aire; and the most important part is, the four of us do not have to be seated away from one another.