Chapter 1: A New Arrival (pt. 1)
She stood, almost frozen, at the end of the drive; her auburn curls pouring from a loose ponytail sitting at the nape of her neck as the wind whipped around her. She pulled her sage cardigan tighter around her ample frame, looking down at the small, crumpled parchment in her left hand. Taking a deep breath, she hoisted her patchwork bag back onto her shoulder. The sound of her chocolate, leather boots crunching through the inch or so of snow calmed her, and her breathing steadied. The closer she got to the house, the more she realized it was everything she had expected it to be; the ramshackle appearance was made only better by the fact that the building looked more like several small houses crashed together in some sort of wind storm. The front, and main portion, of the building looked like a quaint, country cottage; a large, wooden door with a brass, lion-paw knocker greeted her.
It did not take more than a second before the door was opened. In the doorway was a large, leathery skinned man with kind, blue eyes. In his salt and pepper dreadlocks were several intricate beads, and there was almost a glow about him. "Ah! I've been expecting you," he boomed. Gesturing for her to come inside, the man stepped out of her way. Inside the cottage was a large, stone fireplace and a beautiful, handcrafted, wood table. The man sat, and the girl took the seat opposite him. "You were quite persistent to come here, young lady," he said with a glimmer in his eyes. "I don't usually take on five students at a time, of which you are much aware. However, with Tristan becoming a master apprentice, I made the choice to allow you to join my junior apprentices." He reached into a large pocket on his shirt and pulled out a pipe, which he lit with a snap of his fingers.
The young ladies eyes lit up with excitement, watching his every movement through the process, wondering how long it would take her to be able to mimic his ability. Her astonishment did not go unnoticed by her new mentor, the greatest Master Warlock in all of Ceokia: Paris Graemeyer. "Now," he grumbled, standing from the large table, "let me show you to your new quarters." Paris started towards a set of wrought iron, spiral stairs. Judging by their location, she realized they led to the western most side of the incongruous structure, the side she had previously noted looked like one of the modern sky buildings the young lady had seen when she traveled through Oksey, the capitol city of Ceokia's Western Quarter. Paris's school resided in Owirie, on the South West border of the Western Region. As they climbed the stairs to the third level, the young lady noted several doors, all wildly decorated, lined the hallway.
"This is where all my junior apprentices stay," Paris explained. He pointed to each door in turn, and made clear to whom each room belonged. "The door with the tree on it belongs to my own niece, who has been with my five years. Her name is Cedar, and the tree changes with both her emotions and the seasons. Next to her room, the door with the snakes, that room belongs to Sinclair. The snakes are charmed to tell riddles, and that's how anyone who is not he himself has to enter the room." He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "He has been with me for four and a half years. The young man on your side of the hallway has been with me for three years," Paris pointed to a door with an enchanted ocean scene; a ship floated calmly on the waters as a light snow fell. "His door also changes with his mood and the weather. His name is Orion."
As they approached the last door on the left side of the hallway, the young lady noticed her name, etched in beautiful gold lettering. She reached out, and gingerly fingered the letters of her name: 'Absidae'. Smiling an almost sad, half smile, she turned to her new mentor. "Thank you for accepting me, Paris. I know you didn't have to, and I know it's taking on more than you're used to..." Absidae trailed off, as if lost in her own thoughts. She shook her head, curls falling loose from her tied back hair as she did. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, thank you," her singsong, alto voice made the letters on the door shimmer, almost coming to life. Paris pointed out the bathroom at the end of the hall, the stairs leading to the fourth floor study, where all their books would be kept. He mentioned the second floor, which was for practical practice, so as not to damage his garden before they had their magic more under control.
"The South Wing, which you saw when you entered, is the common area. You merely saw the kitchen. There is also a living area and an entrance to the garden. As for the other wings of the house," Paris said as he turned back towards the stairs, "You must be accompanied by me or my master apprentice, Tristan, to enter them. The East Wing is where he and I stay, that's the portion of the building that looks like it belongs attached to the cottage. The North Wing, that's the one that looks like a laboratory, is for alchemy and potions making. Tristan teaches alchemy and potions a few times a month, and will let you and the others know when those classes will be. Otherwise, most of your studies will be on your own, overseen by myself and him. Dinner is at second sundown. Until then, please make yourself at home," Paris waved over his shoulder, leaving her to enter her room for the first time.
Absidae pushed her door gently, and gasped at the beauty of it. She assumed her fellow apprentices must have had something to do with it; there was a beautiful set of potted plants, a terrarium with a small, color changing lizard, and a compass in a bowl of water that seemed to be spinning out of control. The kindness of these people, whom she had not even met yet, amazed her. Her bed was modest, but that was something Absidae was used to; she had bounced from place to place for most of her life that she could remember. Tugging her mangled, auburn hair out of the tie that held it, Absidae dropped her patchwork bag onto the bed. Before she had a chance to start unpacking, the door burst open, and the oddest assortment of three people she had ever seen in her life (and Absidae had been to most every capitol city in Ceokia) stood before her.
"Oh, you're finally here!" The girl said in excitement. She was slender, tall, and dark skinned like her uncle. Her hair was tight, ring curls of gold and black, and her eyes were the same ice blue of Paris. "Uncle Paris said we were finally getting another girl here! I've been surrounded by boys for ages!" Cedar chuckled, Absidae liked the friendly noise. Not many people had been friendly to her in her short life. "This is Sinclair, he-"
"I can introduce myself," Sinclair interrupted, shooting her a smug glance before smirking, his yellow eyes glowing playfully. "Sinclair Heyward, at your service," he flourished a bow, almost comically. His black hair was cut into a Mohawk, which lay limply on the left side of his mostly bald head. On the right side of his pale scalp, a black ink lizard curled from the base of his neck to his temple, the only color showing in it were eyes that matched his own piercing, yellow ones.
Standing shyly behind the two of them was who Absidae could only assume was Orion. He was taller than the others, with an olive complexion and, although he was slender, Absidae could tell he was muscular. What she could see of his eyes were a warm, maple color. She couldn't see them very well, as his wavy, beige hair fell over his lowered brow. She smiled kindly, and he returned the gesture. "I'm Absidae," she murmured. "I go by Sid, though. No one has called me Absidae in ages," the young lady revealed, her honey colored eyes shifting between her three new companions.
Cedar placed her hand gingerly on the other girls shoulder. "We'll let you get settled, and we'll see you at dinner. It's Paris's night to cook, so it's bound to be amazing!" Sid noted to herself how this particular young woman seemed to emphasize something, in every sentence she uttered. The group dispersed, all going to their respective rooms. Absidae closed her door, much more softly than the others had, and slumped down it until she sat on the floor. Pulling her legs up to her chest, and resting her forehead on her knees, she let out a single, quiet sob. Ayden, I wish you could see me now. I finally made it, big brother...finally.