The Ravenclaw Chronicles

by Lilith True

The founding of Hogwarts through the eyes of Rowena Ravenclaw... FINISHED

3. Londinium

* * * *

The journey was a long one, second only to the journey I would take to the north years later. We walked the entire way, without the aid of a donkey or wagon. Occasionally we would join other travelers, mostly pilgrims and scholars, heading to Londinium. But most of the time, we walked on our own, slept in small inns, and cooked over fires that Phineas would conjure up. I learned much on that trip – how to divine the weather by a swallows flight, the best places to catch rabbits, charms to start fire and control water, how to find ones way in a forest. I had almost forgotten the purpose of the journey when Phineas informed me that we were nearing our destination. Certainly, I had lost count of the number of days we had traveled. But as dusk fell, we crossed the final great stretch of plain, and entered the outskirts of the old Roman city.

Coming upon the first few towns, I felt sure we had reached Londinium. But Phineas trekked onward, and I continued being amazed at the size of the towns – their houses, shops, barns, and inns. Many of the buildings were several stories high – something I had never before seen. Names such as the Emerald Dragon and the Murky Troll caught my attention. Dogs and children ran through the stinking streets, where garbage was dumped, straight from windows. Vendors and gypsies sold their wares from carts. An old, toothless lady offered me a flower. I smiled, and reached out a hand to accept it. Phineas saw and snatched my hand away. The woman scowled, one eye bulging, the other beady.

"I know oo' you are." She turned to me. "Beware of Phineas, child – 'is name means snake, 'an 'ee is one at that! But you," her face softened, "You are destined for greatness. Take pity, and remember an old granny in your prayers, won't ye, Rowena?"

I nodded blankly as Phineas dragged me away. As he led me down a cobbled alley, I asked him, "how did she know my name?"

His face contorted for a moment, as he spoke. "That is a hag. Do not ask how they know what they do, but do well to stay away from them. They eat small children."

We came out into what seemed to be a town square, curiously flanked by a gated wall on one side. Carts rumbled along, entering and exiting. I turned to Phineas. He smiled slightly. "Here we are – Londinium." He extended his arm.

We entered the gates. I was so busy looking at the passers-by, and the buildings, placed so close together, that I had no idea whether we walked one-hundred paces or one-thousand. We came to a stop on a side street. I looked up to see the sign of the inn we were standing in front of. A torch illuminated the bold script hanging above the door – The Leaky Cauldron.

"Is this where we are to stay?" I inquired. Phineas looked down at me, rather surprised.

"You noticed it," he murmured.

"Noticed what?" I asked politely.

He shook his head. "Nothing, trivial matter… in fact I was expecting…" he opened the door for me and I stepped inside.

It was a warm sort of place, with a cheery looking bar-tender. Phineas nodded to him curtly. "Thomas." He continued through the restaurant, and out a back door into a small courtyard. "Watch closely," he said, and took his wand out of his robes. He gently tapped a smooth stone in the center of the wall, pale blue, like the stones of the great circle. To my surprise, the wall opened up, revealing yet another bustling street. "Diagon Alley," he announced. "The wizarding center of Londinium, the largest one in the west. It rivals the great streets markets and bazaars of Egypt, Greece, and Constantinople" I gazed about in the twilight.

"Come, come," said Phineas, jerking my hand irritably. "I had wanted to return to the school before sunset. No time for dawdling."

We walked down the winding street to a small shop, almost hidden away in the evening shadows. "Ollivander's," Phineas grunted, as he led me inside. "The best wands in the world, not those simple sticks the gypsies sell. They've been in business since the beginning of time."

As I entered the shop, a peculiar feeling came over me – as if I had visited this shop many times before. I shook my head clear, as it was not possible that I had ever visited Londinium, much less this shop, in my short life. Even so, the hairs prickled up on my scalp as I sat down in a chair near the door to wait. I peered curiously into the dusty gloom of the shop, where the air seemed to tingle with a certain magic.

After a few moments, there was a bustling noise at the back doorway. A short man, arms full of thin wooden boxes, stumbled through the doorway. He set down the boxes on the front table, and, seeing that he had customers, adjusted his glasses and came toward us.

"Good day to you both." Phineas gave a curt nod. "How may I be of service to you this fine day?"

"The girl needs a wand," said Phineas, jerking his head toward me.

"Splendid!" The man, who I realized was quite short, smiled at me and clapped his hands together. "Let's get started, shall, we? Which hand do you use?"

"Both, sir," I answered honestly.

"But which do you write with?" he asked, trying to hide a smile.

"Either one, sir, but I favor my left."

"Very good." He snapped his fingers, and a long piece of thread floated out of a box and through the air to where we were standing. It proceeded to jump about, measuring my height – from head to foot, elbow to knee, one eye to another…

"That will do! Try this one…blackthorn and phoenix feather, one and a third palm… no? Willow and unicorn hair, two palms…" He whisked the wand out of my hand.

I do not know what made me do it, but while he was saying, "holly and phoenix feather…" I jerked my hand away, and pointed to a box near the bottom of the pile.

"I want that one," I proclaimed.

The owner raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He retrieved the box at which I had pointed, and brought out the wand. Holding it up to the fading light of the doorway, he said, almost questioningly, "Rowan wood and dragon heartstring, one and a half palms. Strong and resilient. An excellent choice. But will it choose you?"

As a answer, I grasped the wand in my left hand, and waved it. Sparks in all colors of the morning sky flew out… deep blues and golden oranges. I turned to the shop-keeper. He did not smile, but he nodded.

"What is your name child?"

"Rowena," I said, gazing down at the wand in my hand.

"Rowena," he repeated, almost in a whisper. "I expect to hear from you again some day."

I smiled graciously. "You will."

* * * *

The school was not located within the safe walls of Diagon Alley, but in the bustling city center. In those days it was not yet necessary to hide away what we were doing, and a large gateway announced that we were entering the 'Wizardry Guild'. Inside the thick stone walls was a small, rather dusty courtyard, with doors leading off in all directions. A stairway ran up to a second story, where a covered walkway led to even more doors. "The classrooms are located on the ground, along with the kitchen and the rooms of my assistants. You will find the library to the right. Above," he pointed," are the dormitories. At this time, there are no other female students, so you will have a room to yourself. You may go upstairs and drop your things. Dinner is served right before sunset, we have missed it for tonight. Once you have made yourself presentable," he glanced over my travel-worn clothes and my dusty shoes, "you may come down to the kitchens and see if you can find anything edible. Goodnight, Rowena."

The light from the two blue torches at the gate flickered on his monocle in an ominous way. I shivered slightly, but nodded. Shifting the weight of my bundle to the other arm, I climbed up the stairs, grasping the rail for support. As I walked down the porch, I heard laughter, and caught glimpses of light coming from cracks under the doors. My room was at the end of the first hall. I entered the small, dark space that was to be my room for the duration of my apprenticeship. It was quite tiny, a quarter of the size of our small cottage at home. There was room for only a straw mat and a wooden bench. A high window, only as large as my face, peered out onto an alleyway in the back. Feeling dismal, I dropped my bag on the bench, and sat down on my mat, head in my hands. For the first time since my journey had begun, I felt quite alone… far from my mother, far from the wood where the ravens nested… I raised my head to listen for their calls, and my ears were met with the sounds of rumbling carts and rowdy voices from the streets below. I curled up in a miserable ball, and fell fast asleep.

* * * *

When I awoke, sunlight was streaming in my window. At least I had been given a room that looked to the east, I thought, rubbing my blurry eyes. My neck ached and my back was sore from the uncomfortable position I had slept in the night before. I stood and stretched, dusting the front of my dress. I hadn't even undressed the night before, and my skirt was quite wrinkled. I took off both of my shoes, and shook them gently. Dust flew, making me cough. As I slid the boots back on my feet, I noticed a small basin of water at the end of the bench. I walked over, and glanced down at my reflection. A pale girl stared up at me, her face burnt by sun and streaked by dirt, her dark hair a wild mess about her shoulders. I splashed the water onto my face and scrubbed with my hands, it revived me a bit. I pulled the cloth away from my hair, and raked my fingers through the tangles, tying it back tightly in a knot. I covered my head once more, and taking my wand from my bag, left the room.

I wandered down the stairs to the empty courtyard, and paced about in a lazy circle, examining the doors. The kitchen was down here somewhere, I mused, and I could certainly use a bite to eat. But I do want to examine the library – hopefully soon, and without anyone glancing over my shoulder.

However my thoughts were interrupted, and my mind made up for me, as a stout, red-faced lady bustled out of one of the doors. She seemed surprised to see me.

"Oh! Allo, Dearie… hare ye lost?" She squinted at me as though she were looking at the bright morning sun.

"I am a new student here," I answered, unconsciously dusting my skirt again. "My name is Rowena."

The woman raised her eyebrows, but obviously didn't say what she was thinking. Instead she said," Rowena… now at's ha pretty name. 'Ow old hare ye, Rowena?"

I straightened up. "I was eight, this past winter."

Once again she raised her brow, but did not voice what she was thinking. Finally she sighed.

"Yer ha pretty mite of a girl Rowena, but I don't envy ye one bit. I only wish ye luck. Now into the kitchens with ye, I've just got breakfast over the fire."

I followed her through the door on the right. It was not until I sat down, and had the bowl of porridge set before me that I felt the knots that hunger had tied in my stomach. I put the bowl to my mouth, and ate hurriedly. The cook looked pleased.

"Ye eat like a boy, 'at's for sure," she said in a self-satisfied tone. She collected my bowl as I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. "They'll all be down soon enough. Ye can stay 'ere if ye like, an wait for announcements."

I followed the cooks advice, and sat on the stool until the hall was filled. Most of the boys didn't give me a second look, being too busy with their own friends and antics, but I did attract several stares and whispers, especially from some of the older boys. I kept my face placid, and stared directly at the head table through all of breakfast. At last Phineas entered the hall, and everyone quieted.

After going over a schedule of classrooms and times that made my head spin, Phineas apologized to the group for his long absence. Not much was to be found in the west, he told them, causing me to bristle a bit. But I remained calm as he gestured to me and told the group that he had found one new student. "This is Rowena," he informed them," and I expect you to treat her like any one of us, and let her study in peace. She will be starting in form two as of this morning."

"Form two!" I heard a boy at the next table mutter to a friend. "She doesn't even look as if she can handle first year work."

"Phineas will be rid of her soon enough," murmured his friend.

Phineas clapped his hands in order to regain the attention he had lost after introducing me. "Everyone to your classes! First form follow Uriah, second forms follow Owen, third forms… behind me."

I looked quickly to see who he had gestured to. The first boy, Uriah, looked to be about fourteen, and was tall and thin, with sallow skin and dark hair. The second boy, Owen was older and kinder-looking. His powerful arms looked as if he knew the meaning of hard labor, but his sandy hair and dark eyes created a pleasant effect on his square face. I knew I was glad to be following him.

Over the next few days, I learned many things. Yet I was surprised that I never saw Phineas, except at breakfast each morning. It seemed that he deemed only the highest students worthy of teaching, and left the others to the care of his apprentices. Which was fine with me. Dark eyed Owen was a good teacher, willing to explain even to the daftest student, patient and good-natured. He did not need to explain things to me very often, for I was a good student, and learned my lessons quickly. We were in the library one day when he approached me with a book.

"Rowena," he said, "I think you would make good use of this. You already have a good grasp on Latin," he lowered his voice, "above the other students. This is a third form book, but I think it will help you understand some of those parchments you work on so diligently."

I smiled and thanked him, not letting him know that my understanding of the parchment flowed not from my study of the letters, but from my understanding of the whole. Concepts came easily to me. However, I studied the third form books, eager to get ahead of my classmates.

For three years I stayed in Owen's class, though he repeatedly told Phineas that I should be moved on to third form. I studied hard, Latin, Greek, sciences of plants and elements, the movements of the stars… and, of course, spells. I grew adept at the smaller charms, and perfected my ability to move time with the winds. It was that that I practiced, night after night, alone in my room. I learned early on that my candle would be extinguished by the winds I controlled, so instead I used magical flames, conjured by my wand to dance about my room in an unearthly fashion. By this point I had reverted my father's parchments to my memory, and needed only to close my eyes, and chant the words to have the past, present, and future swirl before my eyes. I saw great things in my tiny room… the rise and fall of kings and conquerors, the changing of the oceans and heavens… I saw the scorching desert, the frozen tundra – all by my simple wand light. And I saw faces, many faces, that would haunt me all the days of my life.

And with the faces came the voices. Real voices, those that echoed in the marketplace. Rumors of a witch girl who could divine the future. I had made the mistake of telling a classmate that he would lose a bet, and giving the exact amount. Now all of the boys consulted me before betting on Saturdays. I could see why the books and parchments had told me never to reveal my secrets, but I disregarded it as a minor annoyance. However, it did cause quite a stir out in the town. Phineas even took me aside and chided me.

"People will start talking, and we will be ruined," he said in an ominous tone.

I spoke of my gift to no one else, but the rumors continued to spread.

* * * *

I suppose the end began when Owen started fighting the dragons. It was a common practice in those days to go down to the town squares on Saturdays, amidst the beggars, pick-pockets and woman of ill repute, and watch the men fight with the dragons. It was quite exciting, the hot rush of flames against your face, even behind the fence. Big, brawny men, covered in sweat and scorch marks, would take a shield and a lance, and enter the pen. There, it was a complicated dance, a ritual of moves done time and time again, and then a quick move – a hasty jab – and the dragon was defeated, lying on the ground with smoke rising from it's nostrils and blood gushing from it's wound.

It was a Friday night, and I was up in my cell, divining as usual. But my eyes focused on one picture out of the many, rushing by like water, and I fell to the ground gasping, my guts turned to lead. I slept very little that night, and worried all through breakfast. I went for a walk to cool my nerves, trying to forget what I had seen. Do not change the course of time for your own devices. Do not change the course of time for your own devices. I repeated this over and over in my head like a song. As I re-entered the gate, I glanced up. Owen was walking toward me, blissfully unaware of what was willed to happen today. "Hullo, Rowena!" he chirped. "It's going to be a lovely day." He wiped his hands on the leather coat he held in his hands. "Not too bright, but warm…" He smiled.

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him to give up this foolhardy past time. I wanted to tell him exactly when to leave, for I had seen his death if he did not. But I couldn't. I couldn't bear to confirm their suspicions, couldn't bear to break the sacred rule of my fathers scrolls and the great volumes in the library. Do not change the course of time for your own devices. Watch, but do not touch…

"Watch yourself today," I told him, eyebrows raised. "It wouldn't do for you to be hurt in the tournament."

He regarded me with a strange look, but nodded. "No, it wouldn't. Take care, Rowena."

"Fare thee well, Owen," I whispered as he walked away into the bustling streets.

* * * *

We gathered around the busy square, at noon. He had been wrong about the haze, it had cleared away by breakfast, leaving a sun that was high in the sky. It's rays shone down with a heat uncommon for March. I stood back with a group of girls from another school, removing my shawl and letting the sun fall full on my face. Several of the white clad girls frowned at this, crinkling up their freckle-less noses at my impudence. I pretended not to notice, and stood anxiously on my toes to scan over the heads of the crowd.

I saw several of the younger boys from the school, climbing on the fence of the makeshift arena. Many were spending their months pocket money on the treats and tricks being sold by the peddlers who crowded the streets. The older boys were all joined in a huddle, casting lots and betting chance cards on the outcome of the match. I looked past them, into the pit, hoping to catch a glimpse of Owen.

Then, there he was, at the edge of the fence, standing next to a burly man who seemed to be giving him instructions. Owen nodded firmly, and turned to face the pit where the dragon was chained. I closed my eyes and held my breath. Steady, Rowena, steady.

I kept my eyes closed as the horns blew, as the crowd roared. I knew the scene by heart, every horrible second was replaying in my head. The dragon grew closer, closer… Owen raised his sword and shield…

My eyes flew open, and I heard my own scream escape my lips. "Owen, move!"

He had been frozen in the proper stance, staring down the dragon, but my yell seemed to jolt him into uncertainty. He ducked to the side. Where he had been standing a moment before, the dragon blew a fiery breath of brimstone. The ground was charred. As the mighty beast twisted around, crying angrily, Owen neatly planted his lance into the dragons side. It let out a scream of anguish. Men rushed forward with their wands and spears. The creature let out one terrible cry, and fell to the ground, silenced forever.

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. People around me were staring, and backing away slightly. I heard the familiar murmur.

"It's that witch girl, the one at the school that you've heard about…"

"… divines the future…"

I turned, face in hands, and fled.

* * * *

"Don't, Gabriel, you're going to drop it," I said, rather annoyed. The mop-headed child returned the globe to it's place, looking at it wide-eyed, as if it might explode at any moment.

I had a splitting headache, and was sitting at a table in the library, holding my skull gingerly between my fingers. I had had a good cry the night before. This morning, Owen had thanked me, and told me that he would once more press his request for me to be moved on to third form. And the look that Phineas had given me as I was leaving the kitchen… that shrewd, calculating look. It was not an expression I liked at all. Indeed, I was quite upset to see him watching me through the bookcases from where he taught his third forms. I glared straight back at him.

Owen sat down next to me, on the bench. I didn't look up until I felt his hand on mine. A bit shocked, I jerked my eyes up to meet his. Instead of his usual smiling expression, I met a look of concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I nodded gingerly. "Tired, I suppose."

He took my hand in his once more. "Rowena, I have good news." He said this merrily, but I found it hard to believe as I looked into his eyes. "You're being moved up." Here he lowered his voice. "Watch Phineas carefully," he murmured, "he may…" here he struggled, as if searching for the right words, "try to take advantage of his position."

I suppose my expression showed my naivety, as he continued. "If he does or says anything out of place, come to me… there are other schools, you know, better ones…" shaking his head, he looked at me once more. "Just let me know how you're doing." I finally nodded, attempting a smile.

As he stood to leave, he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Start locking your door at night."

* * * *

After that day, I was quite careful. In Phineas's class, I stuck to the book, and only answered questions when I was called on. He seemed to notice my unusual silence, and told me to stay after class one day, almost four weeks in to the course. He waited for the others to exit, then leaned back in his chair, surveying me as he had that first day in the square in Ravenwood. Finally, he spoke.

"Rowena, you know that I want you to excel, don't you?"

I had not expected this. I nodded mutely. He tapped the ends of his fingers together, grinning a grin that was not all pleasant.

"Of course," he mused, "I am pushing you to do so partially for my own selfish reasons." He leaned in closer, peering at me owlishly. "Rowena, have you ever questioned the reason you might be the only girl at my school?"

I felt my heart clench together in revulsion at what I knew he was speaking of, but I knew the safest course would be to play innocent. "It is because I have the potential to become a talented sorceress," I answered.

"No Rowena," he replied. "Not the potential to become one, you are one. Have you not yet realized that you are the best student in the school? Your powers are far above Uriah's, even Owen's."

His honeyed words fell on my not entirely deaf ears, and I felt pride swell within me. Careful Rowena, whispered an inner voice. It is not prudent to be proud.

"Perhaps someday they will rival my own. And a good teacher is sometimes rewarded by a faithful student," he continued, raising an eyebrow. "I picked you in hopes that some day my good will of taking you in would be rewarded…" he glanced upward, toying with a cord on the draperies, "… in a partnership of some sort." He glanced back at me. I kept my face a placid lake. He sighed. "Perhaps we will speak of these things another time, when you are older," he said. "Good day, Rowena. You are dismissed."

* * * *

The rest of the year, I was careful to play the part of the stupid child. But I was very watchful. I attended class, but did not learn from Phineas. On free afternoons, I would sit in the library, where there were always people coming and going. There I would study the ancient spell books. My appetite for knowledge grew as I was starved by a man I would not allow to teach me. At night, I followed Owen's advice, and was careful to bolt my door.

But as the autumn turned into winter, and the trees were barren once more, a new threat came to the countryside. The walls that the Romans had built during their occupation in Britannia were collapsing after fifty years of neglect, and the raids from the north were becoming more frequent, and steadily heading south. In the market place you could hear reports by people who's northern relatives had been slain, and their villages burnt. Their was an outcry for the king to respond to the attacks. But the army of the Britons was unusually small, as we were a peaceful people, who preferred farming to feuding. So instead, our king turned to the lands across the sea, and invited great warriors to come and help us fight these strange barbarians. So they came, from across the sea in their mighty ships, led by the legendary brothers, Hengist and Horsa. Soon the Picts were retreating, but the Jutes, as these far-landers were called, began settling in about town. They could be seen, gawked at by the school girls in white, on the way to the market or the town square. They were tall, dark creatures, unlike any men I had ever seen, with broad, dark faces, and wild black hair. They stood guard with their spears and armor, driving away even the fear of invasion from Caledonia.

Still, I was not preoccupied with such matters. I was far more busy darning old clothes in preparation for the hard months ahead, helping cook make candle out of animal fat, studying my lessons locked away in my room, and avoiding Phineas.

He only managed to catch up with me toward the middle of the winter, not long after my birthday. I was walking down a dark passage, candle out before me, as a door opened to my left. I glanced up, only to look back down at my shoes again. I attempted to walk away quickly, but I felt his icy hand grasp my shoulder even through my thick cloak.

"Rowena, my dear," came the voice I hated, "we haven't talked in so long. Why don't you come in to my office, and we can chat?"

So this is where the snake burrows, I thought. I replied, a bit more icily than I should have, "I think not."

I could not make out his expression as he steered me around with his hand. "I have made you what you are child, pray not forget that." His voice had a note of steel in it that I hadn't heard before. Then it softened. "But you will reward me, won't you?" he asked. "In another year, you become an adult, capable of taking a vow. Cook told me that your twelfth birthday was the other day. Why didn't you tell me? Can you not trust me?"

"No, sir," I replied furiously, "I do not believe that I can. Let go of me now."

His fingers dug in tighter. "Never." And he bent over, cupping his cold hands about my face. I tried to back away, the glittering monocle hovering over me, like a snake poised to strike. But as he lowered his thin lips to mine…

"IMPEDIMENTA!" My voice sounded shrill and foreign as I called out the stunning spell. But it stopped him where he stood. I dropped my candle, turned and fled.

* * * *

When Owen saw me next, he was immediately able to tell what had happened. "Did he get you?" he asked, horrified. I shook my head mutely. He put his arms around me tightly, and we stood in silence for a moment. "But why?" I finally whispered. "Why me?"

Owen pulled away. "Don't you see, Rowena? You have the most powerful brand of magic I've seen, far more powerful than Phineas. He wants to marry you, so that his offspring will bear his name, yet have your power." There was more than a note of bitterness in Owen's voice. I shuddered.

"Listen," he said, "when spring comes, you can move to another school, a better school. It's all girls, my cousin is an apprentice there. I will catch her in the square tomorrow and make arrangements. In the meanwhile, stay in your room…"

"With the door bolted," I finished for him.

"And Rowena?"

"Yes?"

"Take care." He smiled at me gently. I sighed as I watched him go. That evening, I did not practice my craft, but lay down on my mat to consider my future. At that point, I was skilled enough to catch glimpses of what was to come for me – a terrible battle, a shining ocean, the face of a child, a lone stag standing on a cliff – but I knew not what they meant. How little I knew of what was to come…

* * * *

I was awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of voices at the gate. Throwing on my cloak, I opened my door, and peered out of the crack, into the courtyard. It seemed to be a troop of soldiers, Jutes from the sound of their harsh accents, and for a moment I cowered away from the door, hiding my face from the flames of their torch light. But a moment later, I peered out in curiosity, as I saw Phineas approaching the gate. He unlocked it silently, and led the soldiers in.

I slipped silently from my doorway and peered into the hall. Confused and sleepy faces peered out from other doors. "What's going on?" a boy of only six or seven whispered. Just then, tramping footsteps echoed down the corridor. Fire light flickered against the walls, and I recalled, for the first time in years, my mothers fear of torches in the house. The soldiers rounded the corner, led by Phineas. He passed the gawking boys, leaving them open mouthed and hanging out their doors. They slowed, then stomped to a halt, directly in front of my chamber.

"This is the witch," said Phineas. "Take her."

For a moment, I was shocked. As a heavy hand grasped my wrist, I cried out. "Where are you taking me?"

Phineas answered. "The Hengist is being generous enough to allow me to continue running my school, free of taxation or bother from his troops. His only request is that I send him each years most promising student. And that, Rowena," he said, his nasty grin accentuated in the flickering light, "would be you."

I felt my eyes widen, and I flailed out against my attackers. "What are you going to do with me?" I shouted. A tall man stepped forward, and the other soldiers parted away, relieving their hold on my arm. He removed his helmet, and bent down on one knee so that he was level with me. I stared directly at him. His face was shocking to my young eyes, dark and fierce. His hair and beard were wild, and looked as though they had been hacked at with a dull knife. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly.

"My dear child," he said, with a heavy accent, "I hear you can divine the future."

For a moment I stood there mutely. Then I nodded.

"That," he continued slowly," is a wonderful skill. My own abilities do not even extend that far. To a warrior… or to a king," (his eye lit up with a strange fire as he said this), "this could prove to be a very powerful asset indeed."

We stood like this for several moments, his wild eyes searching my pale and stubborn face. "Will you come with me?" he asked finally.

It all rushed to at once. I glanced up at Phineas's smirking face, and frowned defiantly. He had never really wanted me here, not in a way I would agree to, and this was his chance to get rid of me for once and for all. And for the first time in my life, I could use my knowledge to change lives. At the time I was not concerned with whose life, or how I would change it. I only wanted to know, to see, to tell. So, with out considering what I was doing, I took the rough hand of the Hengist, and followed him out of the school, chin held high.

Never again would my life be the same. Never again would my heart be allowed rule over my head.

* * * *

Eek! Did I scare everybody off with nasty old Phineas? I'm sorry, maybe I got a bit carried away. But please, tell me, what did you think? More of the school work, and less of her personal life? Eternal thanks to Gemini, my lone reviewer for chapter one!