Tyrion walked through a narrow, winding alley, squeezed together by tall buildings. Laundry lines hung above, like spider webs, criss-crossing across the buildings. The morning sun must be rising through the horizon, but it was hard for Tyrion to tell. He couldn't see anything down here save for the winding alley. The buildings that squeezed it stretched long and wide, hiding the horizon, and they rose high up until the sky was but a narrow blue slit up above. The grand magical academy where Tyrion was heading was reduced to a couple of spires poking out from the houses' roofs.
The buildings cast a long shadow down on the alley, like it was a dark valley. Sunlight spilled just enough down the alley for Tyrion to not step on a cat or stumble onto a bench. It was the only thing keeping Tyrion from wasting his precious magic to cast a lighting spell. That, and that some neighbors had complained about his use before.
Indeed, this early morning, it was quiet and peaceful and it would be ill of him to disturb it with a messy light spell. Only his footsteps broke the quiet, that and the occasional tap from the butt of his magic staff.
Step, step, tap. Step, step, tap.
Aside from him and his staff were the occasional barking dogs in the distance, or cats rustling through trash bins looking for their breakfast (or was it dinner in their perspective?), and the clatter of horse hoofs and their tumbling carriages in tow down the street.
The road was paved in stone. Some spots sunk low over years of use and had collected rainwater from last night's downpour, forcing Tyrion to mind his footing unless he plans to get his shoes and socks wet. At least the air smells sweet this morning from the rain.
Shadows flew by from above. Fast, like birds.
Tyrion craned his head up, one hand holding his wizard hat so it won't slide off his head.
Above, in the free sky, witches and wizards flew by on their brooms. They flew swiftly and freely, without any petty potholes wetting their boots, without the smelly sewage clogging up their noses. They flew without a care, feeling the fresh morning wind whipping at their face, and basking in that gloriously warm morning sun. They laughed, they raced, and Tyrion hated them.
Tyrion narrowed his eyes until they were like slits of the skyline.
"One day," he said, tipping his hat back in place. "One day I'll have wings."
He continued his climb, his steps turning into stomp. Soon, the twisting alleys ended and he arrived in an opening. At the end was a station of some sorts that transported a carriage box, but without a horse towing it in sight.
A cable car, some had called it. It was a novel invention from the artificer department. For all his adoration of the invention, he couldn't grasp how such an invention worked. He heard that it ran on electric magic, flowing through the cables, and that somehow moved the car upwards.
It was an insane theory, but then again, Tyrion wasn't a student of the artificer school of magic. He had no knowledge on the matter.
The academy helped set the cable car here to ease uphill travel for the workers and staff who live in the lower city. Because, as everyone knew, without flight, the climb to the academy would be a pain in the foot. Tyrion was certainly not part of the consideration, but he benefited greatly from this.
For once, luck was smiling on him; a cable car was already waiting, with doors ajar and empty seats waiting.
He climbed on the cable car. The only other inhabitants were non witches. A damn embarrassment, to be seen like this. But he'd rather swallow his pride than climb the 900 steps of the hill by foot.
Just like Tyrion, they were unexpected users of the cable car. The novelty of it must've entertained them so much they'd be willing to spend their precious free time riding it.
He sat on the corner and put his face away, hoping no one would make conversation.
Soon, the doors closed by themselves, and the entire car rumbled with magic. It began to move, and the gentle rocking calmed Tyrion. He watched as the city grew smaller and smaller as the car rose to the sky, climbing up the hill.
Some of the younger passengers, mostly snivelling kids, were too eager about the ride and ran from one end of the car to the other eagerly seeing every vista they travelled through.
Tyrion narrowed his eyes on them. He clutched at his seat as an image of the car tipping to one side and crashing down the rocky slopes crossed his mind.
He turned to the window to enjoy the view instead, but that too was cut short when the cable car entered a tunnel and darkness filled the car, and he was left with nothing to stare at but his own reflection.
Dark hair, dark eyes behind big round glasses, and pale skin of someone who rarely saw the sun, too busy putting his nose deep in his book. He was complete with a frown that never seemed to leave his face, and thin lips that seemed frozen in a scowl.
For an excruciating minute, the darkness persisted. Until eventually light welcomed him at the end of the tunnel, and his dour face gave way to a bright sight.
Some of the younger passengers raced to the edge of the car. They pressed their faces to the glass and jumped on their heels.
"Look, look!" They cried out in joy. "That's the academy!"
Heads, those who weren't Tyrion's anyway, turned to the new sight.
More like a castle than a school, the academy of Carasonne stood at the peak of the hill like a gem on top of a mountain. It had white, sheer walls. Tall spires rose to the sky, breaking through clouds, topped by conical spires painted in bright, sea blue. Perched across the battlements and on top of the roofs were colorful flags bearing different, distinct insignias. They flew and whipped around in the fast wind.
And coming towards this magnificent school was a no less magnificent sight. Witches, hundreds of them, flying from the far end of the sky to here on their magical brooms.
The passengers stood from their seats and stormed the other side of the car. They pressed themselves on the windows and tiptoed to get a better view. Young, old, they all looked at the sight with big round eyes and slack jaws.
Tyrion remained glued to his seat. There came a time when he felt the same excitement as those people, but no more.
The others saw tall, stout walls. Tyrion saw an inescapable cage. They saw a grand castle perched atop a hill. He saw an island of great loneliness. They saw pristine, clean walls, but he'd seen them up close. He saw where the mosses made their home where the light didn't touch. They saw witches flying on their brooms, he saw enemies.
It hasn't always been this way. There was a time when he'd watch this beautiful sight and be filled with a dream. A hope.
All that beauty was crushed when he stepped his foot into that academy, and his destiny was revealed.
Tyrion was a failure. His body was barely compatible with magic. He can hold only a few before he would heave and go sick. He could fly, no doubt he could. But he'd most likely keel over and fall off his broom while in the air.
That alone wouldn't be the end of the world. Any other sane man could just change their profession. Tyrion reckoned if he'd ask people around the city, most city folk would say a simpler life than being a wizard could be fulfilling.
But Tyrion wasn't simple like them. He couldn't afford to be simple like them, not with everyone counting on him to be a great wizard.
He came from a family of great wizards, and they expect him to be no less than that. His siblings had become the pride of his family with their unique gifts. And not even in magic, they're charismatic, powerful, smart, and friendly.
Tyrion had none of those.
He was an inferior product surrounded by superior and better men, that was what the academy made clear for him.
The academy that his younger self had once looked as a place where dreams came true became a place where dreams were marched up and brought to the chopping blocks.
Tyrion leaned his head back and heaved a silent sigh. His parents had paid a fortune for him to be in this school, though. And he can't just ignore that. He's a troublesome enough child as he is, no need to trouble his parents more. And that's why he's still here, surviving, clinging on, attending class everyday.
The cable car screeched to a halt, and Tyrion found himself hoping the journey would've lasted longer.
Tyrion put on his wizard hat, so deep it nearly concealed his eyes.
"And so begins another day."