Disclaimer: I don't own Leven Thumps or any of the characters and places associated with it. They belong to Obert Skye and Shadow Mountain Publishing.
Author's Note: By the way Obert Skye's 4th Leven Thumps book, Leven Thumps and the Wrath of Ezra, will be released September 30th, 2008.
Also, I would like to thank all of you who have been following up on this story and reviewing after each chapter. (Teengamer and Galadriadhar, you guys rock!)
Chapter 3: What's (really) in a name?
Love, the plague that was now ailing Cinder, is a powerful thing. It can humble the strongest, grittiest man, and change the quietest person into a roaring lion. Love is a complicated subject, into which I will not delve any further, for now.
Sycophants that fall in love usually arrange things with the Sycophant Office of Love and Blushing or S…O…L…B. Cinder doesn't know that he's in love, poor bloke, and hasn't reported anything.
That's were our story picks up. Right outside the school's cafeteria, in Foo's second-most prestigious academy, there's a smitten sycophant about to attend another class.
Poor Cinder.
Cinder needed to get his mind off of things. So as the rest of the day slithered by, he employed various activities that can relieve boredom. In Grammar and Spelling, he tried to come up with vague anagrams of his first and last names.
The many sides of Cinder Bickersnap:
1. I bind cracker pens
2. Brain prince decks
The list went on and on…
Unfortunately for Cinder, Grammar and spelling is not a class to be goofing off in.
Grammar and Spelling is a class that everyone fears… even sycophants. Even though they are amazing, almost magical, creatures, school is no easy feat for the young sycophants. You can take a bunch of the most fearless pegs, put them in a classroom, give them a pop quiz, and then watch them scream in terror.
Cinder was in a similar situation.
Seriously, what kind of teacher gives a test on the first day?!
Fortunately the test was relatively easy. In fact, by the young sycophant's standards, it wasn't really a test at all. The questions were easy enough. That's not what made it hard.
Sitting directly behind our naïve friend was the same white sycophant. You know; the one that was in every one of his classes. The one that made his heart both sing and break when he looked at her. Who had the prettiest hair, which both shimmered and produced a feather-like quality whenever she walked.
She even smelled good, which isn't that surprising considering the fact that sycophants have classes devoted to hygiene and grooming. Most sycophants have good hygiene by the way.
The one whose name he didn't even know.
"Please pass your papers forward, my pupils," Professor Kringle mumbled, his low voice barely audible to the small students working furiously to finish their tests.
Which were about simple things, like: What's your favorite color, or what's your favorite book? (Still it's hard to take if you're distracted. Cinder would know)
"Make sure your name is at the top," the professor reminded. "Your FULL name, if you please."
As some of you brilliant readers may have realized, this meant two things.
One, Cinder would have to write his full name. Of course, this isn't a problem if your name is something short, like Bob Key.
However, if it's something kind of long, like Cinder Bickersnap, one could get tired of writing it.
Imagine if every person you ever met, every day of your life, asked you to write Cinder Bickersnap. Plus you practically live forever, since you're a sycophant and there is only one way for sycophants to die.
That would get tiring.
Secondly, since Cinder was sitting at the front of the row, he would receive all the tests. Including hers…
Cinder panicked, a little.
The wait was agony. Cinder sat in anticipation as the papers started migrating forward at a snail's pace. One person would wait for the person behind them to pass their paper forward, before passing their paper forward too.
His heart was pounding in his chest.
Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump!
Sweating profusely, he turned around to receive the stack of papers. Only then did he realize that he didn't know which paper was hers!
He checked the top paper, inwardly screaming at himself. The name was blurred so he leaned forward to look at it.
"Ehem." The professor was three feet in front of him, his white eyebrows furled as he stared at Cinder.
Cinder stared back.
Professor Kringle was large in stature, his bulk filling up the classroom designed for sycophants. He had a long snow-white beard that hung down to his waist. A large red suit decorated his frame, and a small hat adorned his giant head. Unbefitting his large size, he donned a jolly smile on his rosy cheeks.
"It seems you're very interested in what the others put on their tests," the giant said with a chuckle.
Stealing a quick glance at the paper in his hand, he saw that the name had been smeared until it had become one illegible blur. He then did what any self-respecting sycophant would do.
He fainted.
Author's Note: If you're sympathizing with Cinder, don't worry! It gets better! (I promise)
So what did you think of the chapter? Any names you'd like me to give the white sycophant? (I have a couple in mind.)
Does Professor Kringle seem familiar at all?
Stay Tuned!