Just an idea for a fic that I felt like writing and posting. It might work. If I can continue, that is. Well, I'll leave the judging to you.
Chapter One: Awareness
Emiline reached for the knob hesitantly. Master Palon smirked. "Do you really want to know what's in that room?" he asked. Emiline gulped down a lump in her throat and nodded slowly. She couldn't give up now, now that she had come so close.
"Yes," she replied. She grabbed the knob with sweaty trembling fingers and pulled down, but the door didn't open. "Emiline!" Master Palon yelled at the top of his voice. Emiline turned to face him. "What?" she asked.
"Emiline! Emiline Caglian!"
"Who—what?" Emiline mumbled, slowly opening her eyes. She looked up to see Master Palon towering over her. "Oh. Sorry, sir. I must have fallen asleep," Emiline said, sitting up straight.
"Your test?" She looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her and realized that she had only finished the first three questions. "Just let me finish this question, okay?"
"No. Give me the test."
"Just one more question!" Before she could start writing, Master Palon snatched the paper from her and continued down the row of desks.
"You should consider sleeping at night, instead of gossiping with your friends. You might actually be able to stay awake in class," he said, his voice as hard as stone. Emiline sighed and looked at the floor. She'd failed yet another test.
"So. How did you do on the test?" Diwan asked. Emiline shrugged.
"Failed." Diwan raised an eyebrow.
"And you don't care?"
"Nope."
"My parents would kill me for something like that. They—" She paused in mid-sentence, realizing she had just brought up a very uncomfortable subject. "Sorry. I forgot," she said to Emiline. She shrugged her shoulders.
"It doesn't bother me, Diwan. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"I know, but… You haven't seen them since you were five, and you won't ever see them again. I get to see mine every day."
"Believe me. It's okay. I'm fine," she said reassuringly, though she new deep down that that was a lie. Diwan shrugged and sighed, then looked at the ground. A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Oh no, I'd better get to fighting class. Lady Nasile will make me fight first if I'm late again," Emiline said, suddenly, rushing off.
"Have fun!" Diwan called after her. Emiline rolled her eyes.
"I will!" she called back sarcastically. She pushed through a crowd of students and ran as quickly as she could to fighting class. Emiline still continued to call it fighting class, though it was referred to most often as, "Seijin technique, defense, and combat."
She entered the classroom quickly to see all the other students lined up along the wall. Everyone was completely silent. Lady Nasile crossed her arms over her chest disapprovingly and tapped her foot impatiently.
"We've been waiting for you," she said. Emiline shrugged.
"Sorry. I forgot I had fight—STDC class today, Lady Nasile."
"Well, if you insist on being the center of attention every other afternoon, then you may go first."
"Who am I up against?" Emiline asked, grimacing.
"How about—Kaden," she said, gesturing to the tall slender boy. He took off his glasses and set them down on the small table on the left wall. Then, he casually made his way to the other end of the room, and turned to face Emiline. She gulped. He was one of the strongest students in class. He could have easily snapped her body in half like a toothpick. If he cared.
"Remember. Use your opponent's strategy against them. You can still read their mind," Lady Nasile said. She looked at the clock on the wall up above her and finally said, "Go."
Kaden fixed his gaze upon Emiline, not moving. She felt a dull tingling sensation in her head, and took a step forward. Sunlight streamed in from the surrounding windows. She could do this. She could do this. Kaden suddenly threw his arm out, and blue light came shooting from his fingertips, hitting Emiline squarely in the face and knocking her to the floor. She shook her head and scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, before Kaden had another chance to attack. Using what little energy she could gather from his shot, she backfired the move. Kaden effortlessly stopped the glowing mass of energy in midair, and threw it back at her. She ducked, and the blue light hit the wall harmlessly.
"Very good," Lady Nasile said, leaving both of them unsure of who she had been speaking to. Emiline glared hatefully and took another step forward. She focused on the rays of sunlight that spilled in through the window. When her arms tingled, she fired the light at him. Again, he stopped it in midair.
This time he let the energy go, instead of backfiring it. Emiline heard buzzing, and knew that he was winning. "Ah—I—stop!" she yelled in frustration. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, and her legs gave out. She fell backward and hit the floor with a hard thud, unable to move.
"Very good, Mr. Thatcher. You may leave." Lady Nasile spoke in a sweet and kind voice. Emiline slowly regained control. "Ms. Caglian, you will stay here and write an essay, describing your strategy and telling why exactly you failed. That is, if you had a strategy," Lady Nasile said, her voice hard and cold.
"I had a strategy!" Emiline lied. "Then write an essay about it." Emiline grimaced and marched to the back of the room, her head tilted down. She thought she heard some of the other students giggling.
"I can't wait until break," Diwan said, flopping back onto her bed.
"Rough day?" she asked. Diwan nodded tiredly, rubbing her eyes.
"I'm going to bed early tonight. Will you tell the other girls to be quiet when they get here?" she asked. Emiline nodded and flashed a smile.
"Night," she said. Diwan, who was already half asleep, muttered a quick, "Good night," back to her. She left the room as quietly as possible and began to head to the bathroom to get ready herself, when she realized that she had forgotten her history book in Master Palon's room.
She walked through the halls slowly, in no rush to see Master Palon. She turned through several long hallways and corridors until she reached the hallway that led to his room. It was completely empty, and the lights were out, giving the black carpet floor and mint-colored walls an eerie touch. She approached his door quietly, hearing the sound of muffled voices. She was about to open the door, but stopped, catching the one of desperation in one of the voices.
Out of impulse and curiosity, she pressed her ear against the thick wooden door and listened.
"Do you realize how much danger you've put us all in? The school could be shut down completely because of you"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't good enough. When your father comes tomorrow, you will not breathe a word of this to him. You hear?"
"Yes. But—but—this is—wrong."
"Don't think I won't hesitate to radio Masin. All I have to do is press this button here, and you can say goodbye to your little friend."
"That's sick! You can't do that! You wouldn't!"
"I will if I have to."
"But… You… But…"
"When your father comes, you will tell him that you love this school, and that you hope to graduate soon. If you even think of telling him anything else—think of Candra." Emiline pulled back, shocked, and heard the sound of someone running for the door.
She quickly bolted down the hall and turned the corner. Seconds later, Harold Smithson, a "gifted" fifth-year student came rushing around the other side, not even noticing her through the blur of tears.
Emiline sighed with relief and waited for a few minutes before entering Master Palon's room. When she did, she saw him sitting on his desk with his ankles crossed, which she had been told before was "impolite" and "disrespectful". He looked at her, his face showing no emotion.
"Yes, Emiline?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Her mouth went dry, and when she tried to speak, the words died in her throat. She made her way over to her desk and quickly whipped out the heavy history textbook.
"Forgot it," she said, holding it up to show him. He only nodded and watched as she walked, a little quicker than usual, out the door and into the hallway. Emiline closed the door behind her and sighed heavily, trying to calm her nerves. "I have to tell Diwan about this," she whispered to herself.
She ran back to room 117 as quickly as her legs would carry her, trying to stay quiet at the same time. Energy coursed through her veins like electricity. Thoughts zoomed back and forth in her mind. She grabbed onto the knob and thrust the door open to see Diwan lying on her face in her usual bed at the back of the room. She was snoring.
Emiline looked at the carpet guiltily. She didn't want to wake Diwan now, now that she had finally gotten some well-deserved sleep. She shrugged, and decided to tell her in the morning.
Emiline was very tired herself. She considered climbing into bed too and getting some sleep, but she couldn't. Instead, she tiptoed over to the window and sat down on the small ledge, staring out at the never-ending field of stars. The only thing separating her from them was the set of iron bars over the window.
All the other girls hated the night. They complained that they felt vulnerable and helpless without their powers. Emiline wasn't powerful, nor was she weak. She was just—average. And her powers didn't matter to her. Becoming a successful guardian didn't matter to her. None of it did.
As she sat there, she began to wonder what would become of her. What was her purpose in the world? She would grow up to—what? File papers and ride in patrollers? Why did she have to attend guardian school? Why did anyone? Emiline sighed and looked straight ahead.
The face appeared so quickly, so suddenly, that she barely had time to gasp. There was a boy standing there, staring at her coldly. A hand suddenly closed over her mouth, and before she knew it, she was on her knees struggling to stand up. A piece of thick black cloth suddenly covered her eyes, blinding her. Something metal clasped around her wrists, biting into the skin. She tried to stand up, but fell to the floor with a loud thud. She could hear voices—male voices—whispering excitedly. There was a series of loud thumps, and suddenly, she was being lifted off of the ground by her underarms and feet.
"Let go!" she yelled, though it came out muffled and barely audible. She heard someone laugh. She felt something stinging at her neck, suddenly. It was slow and a little painful. Her thoughts jumbled together in a confusing blur. Everything disappeared.