"Don't dawdle, students," Professor Isona Beledas calls back to the group of first years toddling behind. Vieva scowls. Ruxnorth Academy is a crumbling castle of stone; there's nothing truly magnificent in her line of sight to dawdle over. In all honesty, she just wants to settle into her dorm and prepare for the beginning of academy. Having a cousin that already attends Ruxnorth wields benefits; thanks to Cedoric, she has no need for a tour. So essentially, all of this is a massive waste of her time.

"This is the Commons, open to all students, but not after 9 PM. If you are caught wandering the grounds after curfew, you will be reported."
A brash student raises his hand. Professor Beledras shifts her attention to him. "Yes?"

"I don't see any guards on campus. So who's to say we will get caught?" His friends snigger and slap him high-fives. Vieva rolls her eyes. She's surrounded by idiotic, bumbling baboons.

Professor Beledras smiles, as if she is on the joke as well. "An excellent question, Mr. Goldbane." The boy smirks at his companions. "If you are out past curfew, you will most definitely be caught. We have a night guard with a rather... peculiar skill set you will find." As if to prove her point, the professor points towards the Onyx Woods, where a baleful, bone-chilling howl arises in the air. Chills wrap Vieva.

"I'm sure you are all aware of the Fenrirs? They are rather fearsome, especially in the peak of night."

The student's smirk slides off his face. Professor Beledras looks pleased.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions, this way."

No one bothers to object, trotting after her like obedient puppies. It's disgusting. Beledras may be in favor with the headmistress, but she is nothing against Father. Truthfully, most citizens of Ruxnorth are nothing against Father.

Beledras leads us into yet another courtyard, which is actually rather nice. Vieva still prefers her personal rose garden, obviously, but this isn't half-bad.

The professor spreads her arms like wings. "This is the first year quad. Mind you, it is the entrance to the dorms, so upperclassmen are not allowed. I don't want to see any foolish behaviors during your time here."

Everyone crowds into the quad, and Vieva is shoved left and right. The nerve! Do these scoundrels have any idea who she is? It's at times like this that she wishes her bodyguards are with her. Nevertheless, everyone here should know who she is, or at least recognize her family based on her bright white hair.

"Your luggage will be given here, so make sure to listen for your name. If you do not pick up your luggage, for whatever the reason, it will be taken to the Emporium, where you can find it. If in any case you somehow your luggage has been transported to the Emporium, be sure to pick it up before the welcoming dinner tonight. Otherwise, it will be tossed out back. Along with your luggage will be your room placements. You will be given one of these," she holds up a shimmering gold key card. It looks almost translucent. "Which will allow you to enter the dorms. Do not ever give this card to anyone else. If you have handed it over willingly, for any reason, punishment will follow, depending on the severity of the incident." The professor sweeps her gaze over the sea of students. "Am I understood?" The first years chorus their replies and she nods, her lips pressed tightly together.

"The welcome dinner is at 7:10, sharp. Mind you, I do not appreciate late comers." One student gulps, and Beledras's dark eyes glimmer. With a grinding of her heel, she leaves the courtyard. Whispers rise and the students separate into their own clumps, talking with acquaintances. Vieva merely trounces over to the crumbling stone archway and leans against it, coolly surveying the scene. She's never really had friends, has never needed to. Why start now?

"Vieva Bestel," someone croons from behind her. Without even looking, she knows who it is. There is only one person who is allowed to call her by her full name, without being flogged.

"Kayd Wyvern," she echoes drily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Vieva has never taken pleasure in conversing with other people her age. She sees no need. In all her 12 years, she's never had a problem with the strategy. That saying, this is her first year going to school. Her schooling had been private, so she hadn't needed to experience the horrors of elementary learning.

Kayd slips into view, like the slithering snake he is. It's in his name; the wyvern species, some sort of air serpent, went extinct thousands of years ago. The last one was hunted during the time of the Founders.

"I didn't see you at the banquet the other day."

She rolls her eyes non discreetly. "That's because I wasn't there."

"Pity." Kayd's eyes travel to where a black-haired girl sits alone on the dorm steps, watching the others chat with a sad look in her eyes.

Xara Roffinnes.

The very name makes anger cleave inside Vieva. Storm mages had long thought to have been gone and suddenly, one appears? It seems highly unlikely. But that's not what angers Vieva. The thought that a Closorthian nobody gets to inherit the most powerful mage magic, while Vieva is stuck as an Arcane, threatens to make her combust. She's trained her whole life to be the most powerful mage since the Founders, bringing honor to her family. She actually thought she would get it, until Xara swooped in and claimed to be a Storm.

It's obviously a ruse. I mean, the girl's familiar hasn't even arrived yet! That has to mean something.

"They say she is the vessel for the Warlord."

"I don't believe it."

Kayd looks over at her. "Well, my father is the one who says it. And my father knows practically everything."

Arrogant moron.

"Might I remind you that I am at a higher position than you are?"

"Oh, is that so?" He smirks.

"Yes."

He leans in close. "That will never happen. A girl, Bestel or not, can never be at a higher position than a man. That's just the way the world works, Vieva. So, really, it is I who is at a higher position then you."

She snarls. "Position or not, I am still more powerful than you, and you know it. Do not push me, Kayd."

After one decisive moment, he trots off. Vieva exhales. In that short conversation, it felt like she had aged to 60.

"Cyrla Sulibot!" a gruff voice calls out, ringing against the mottled stone arches in the courtyard. Vieva pushes all thoughts of Kayd's smarmy face away. He's not worth her energy, nor her time.

✡✡✡

Vieva lugs her bags up the uneven steps of the dorms, muscles squeezing from the exertion. Normally, in this situation, she would have her guards take everything up. But the Academy has some stupid rule about outside visitors.

She swipes a hand low across her brow. Sweat collects on the back of her palm and she shudders in disgust. When she sweats after a grueling training session, the sweat on her face feels like a trophy. In this case, however, it just feels like a taunt. Lucky for her, she has been placed on one of the higher levels, meaning more stairs to climb.

Two girls, with their bags tossed over their shoulders, jog lightly up the stairs, giggling softly as they do. At her, at whatever they're talking about, she doesn't know. All Vieva knows is that she doesn't have the strength to yell at them.

When she trains at her manor, she trains with weapons. Her trainor has never truly focused on conditioning, and now, climbing these monstrous steps, she wishes they had.

When she finally does reach the top of the steps, she sets her bags down and fetches her mirror, touching up her face. She refuses to show up in her dorm sweaty and dirty. She is a Bestel, and Bestels look the best. Always. No pun intended.

Laughter and voices reverberate in the airy stone hallway. Some doors are ajar, some fully open, and some closed. Girls flit in and out of different rooms. Vieva counts until she finds her room, then shoves the door open.

The two girls look up, startled, when Vieva plops her bags down. What she presumes to be her beauty bottles clink on the floor. Both girls' eyes widen when they see Vieva, who stares back imperiously.

The first girl, a petite blonde with light green eyes, ducks her head as Vieva studies her. Satisfaction curls in the pit of her stomach. Finally, someone who understands.

But her happiness is soon diminished when she realizes who the other girl is.

Xara Roffinnes. She has black hair and gray eyes, which rather suits her magic. They have a keen glint as she in turn looks Vieva over.

"I'm-"

"I don't want to know, and I don't particularly care." Vieva interrupts, brushing past them and into the bathroom. This being a three-bedroom dorm, there are two toilets, three sinks, and two showers. Vieva's eyes narrow as she beholds the loss of shelving compartments.

"This is it?"

"I suppose this must be a powder room, compared to what you're used to."

Vieva still fumes. "At least our powder rooms have shelves. Where am I supposed to keep my things?"

"We have dressers," pipes up the mouse-like girl. Vieva glares at her and she shrinks.

"I suppose for you two simpletons, this is considered grand."

"I have an idea," says Xara, snapping her fingers. "How about we all unpack, quietly?"

The blond nods and darts off. Vieva pins Xara with a piercing look. She hardly flinches.

"And I suppose you believe that now you're a Storm," Vieva practically spits the word. "You think you're so great, don't you?"

Something Vieva can't read flashes in Xara's dark eyes, something that makes her eyes brood.

"If I had the choice, I would gladly switch places." She says, with a dry laugh. "Being possessed by the Warlord isn't a walk in the park."

Vieva goes silent. Although she envies Xara's raw power, she doesn't envy what happened to the girl during the Summoning.

Vieva jostles past Xara. The willowy girl stumbles back a few steps as she goes. The blond, whom Vieva still hasn't gotten a name from, is humbly putting her folded clothes inside the ancient dresser. She doesn't look up when Vieva steps in front of her.

"What are you?"

"What?" she whispers, brushing long hair from her eyes. Vieva rolls her eyes.

"What mage are you?" she enunciates, as if speaking to a child. The girl's cheeks heat.

"Gaia."

Vieva snorts. "As expected. A thing like you couldn't be anything else."

The girl's eyes muddle with tears and she quickly looks away, quietly getting back to her clothes. Xara stomps past her, shooting Vieva a dirty look as she goes.

"That's not true, Lysabel, truly." Xara says gently. "Being a Gaia is wonderful. Gaias are the warden of the earth. They create. In a way, I almost envy you."

"Yeah, right." Vieva says under her breath. Xara unwisely chooses to ignore her, a motion that makes Vieva's blood rage.

"Really?" The blonde-Lysabel-sniffles.

"Really." Xara replies genuinely, a smile dawning on her face. Vieva fights the urge to gag. Xara helps Lysabel up. The girl smiles gracefully. "Now, come on. I can practically hear that dinner calling my name."

"Pig." Vieva whispers to Xara as she and Lysabel pass.

"Twit," comes her fast reply.

Vieva watches the two of them leave. If Xara had been rich, she might've even liked the girl. But no one, not even the last Storm, talks to Vieva like that and gets away with it. Not without punishment. 

>>AUTHOR'S NOTES:

hey guys, so sorry for the late update... last week was brutal for me. anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. i always have a ball of a time writing from Vieva's perspective.