The next day, Amber ate her breakfast sullenly, tired after revising the fifty different toxins she needed for the test today. When her mother emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of croissants and sugar doughnuts, Catherine gasped and almost dropped her tray. She scurried forward and set the tray down to sit beside her daughter.

"Amber, you look terrible," her mother tutted disapprovingly at her. "Just look at yourself!"

Amber did, when she dressed into her grey robe, the uniform of her school. She had a pale face, and the biggest, darkest circles under her golden brown eyes one could possibly imagine. All because she stayed up the whole night to concoct toxins and their antidotes under the faint glimmer of her small lamp. At least her long flamboyant hair was combed right.

She grabbed a croissant and her school bag, which was right next to her chair.

"Looks or not, I'd better hurry if I want to get to the library to study some more," she said through a mouthful of pastry.

Amber reached for her coat and shoes before dashing out of the house.

"By Mom!" She yelled as the door automatically shut behind her.

The publicat was still waiting, on the side of the road in front of the villa.

"Hello, welcome aboard the Thunderhead's publicar. Please take a seat and have a comfortable ride," the automaton greeted her in its squeaky robotic voice, as it opened the doors for her.

Once she was comfortably settled, the publicar drove away.

"To Scythe Academy," she told the publicar.

As they neared the center ring of Fulcrum City, the publicar stopped. A passenger stood in front of the doors, but she couldn't make out who yet.

"Hello, welcome aboard the Thunderhead's publicar. Please take a seat and have a comfortable ride," the publicar said to them.

Once the passager climbed in, the publicar resumed its course to Scythe Academy.

When the passager's face turned towards her, Amber froze as their gaze locked together. Avery Greyhall, the mysterious boy who returned her necklace to her.

"Uhm..." she lowered her gaze as he stared intrusively at her. "Thanks for the necklace. It was surprisingly...kind of you."

"Surprising?" His voice was deep and melodious, a hint of incredulity in his voice as he moved to sit a beside her. "And why is that?"

She turned to face him. His hazel eyes were wide, his eyebrows high.

"Shouldn't it be obvious?" She leveled his stare. "You do not help people that much. Rarely. What befuddles me the most is that why did you do this when you hate me?"

He froze, then leaned forward, his breath tickling her ear.. His eyes glittered by surprise and anger.

"You thought I hated you?" He whispered, as she tensed, ready to slap him. "Well you are wrong. I just like to distance myself from girls." He leaned back, and contemptuously looked at her. "Girls are strange. Frivolous and gossiping non-stop. Their little manoeuvres with their eyelashes and hair does not escape me. I am very observant, you see."

At that, Amber was so surprised she let out a small laugh. He looked at her inquiringly.

"They are frivolous and chatty little things," she agreed, grinning broadly despite herself. "But I am not like them. Solitude, quiet and darkness to render one invisible is the best solution for everything. At least for me. I prefer the company of a blade than other human beings."

He gave an enigmatic smile.

"Same for me. But does that mean that you do not like my presence here?"

"You do make me uncomfortable because you are so hard to read," she replied honestly. "And by read, I mean that you always keep your emotions and thoughts to yourself. Other people have no shame in revealing themselves to be plainly observed in public. It is like reading an open book."

"If you mean that other people show their emotions with no shame, then those who keep their thoughts to themselves like me have shame?" His eyes pierced me. Questioning.

Amber recalled to what her mother said yesterday.

An imperious person is often using coldness and airs of superiority to hide their true thoughts. It is a sort of shield that a person wields, skillfully using it to stop people from approaching them and questioning the regretful actions they have made in their past.

So she leaned towards him, relishing every moment as she noticed him tensing, his hand instinctively flying to the blade at his side. A bowie knife.

"An imperious person is often using coldness and airs of superiority to hide their true thoughts," she murmured, a small smile on her lips. "It is a sort of shield that a person wields, skillfully using it to stop people from approaching them and questioning the regretful actions they have made in their past."

Then the bus stopped. So she grabbed her satchel and got up.

"Scythe Academy," the publicar announced, opening its doors.

"We've arrived," she said to him. "And I do hope I never talk to such a pompous boy again."

Without a backward glance, she jumped down the vehicle and climbed up the steps to the Grand Entrance of Scythe Academy.

..................................

The test in Plants and Poisons Class was not hard at all. As usual, Amber has stressed for nothing, but it always left her ragged with relief. As usual, she went to her classes and listened carefully. And as usual, she ate at the school's enormous and refined cafeteria. It was more like a big restaurant than a cafeteria. She sat down at her usual table, eating some risotto when something unusual happened.

"May Miss Glane and Mister Greyhall head to the Gymnasium at once," the speakers blared the voice of their Headmistress, Honorable Scythe Zetian.

The whole cafeteria swiveled their gazes at both of them. So much for wanting no attention. She reined in her annoyance at the mention of "miss" and "Greyhall". Most importantly, she was annoyed because she was interrupted during her lunch. She was annoyed for many reasons. As she slung her satchel over her shoulder, she decided that she would rather face Scythemaster Zetian's wrath than abandon her risotto.

While she walked down the hallway, she heard small steps behind her. She turned around, to find Avery strolling towards her, his bag slung across his chest.

"It seems that your wish to never ever speak to me again was denied," he flashed her a mocking grin as he passed her.

She hissed beneath her breath and aimed a kick at him. He dodged, snickering. Then as her fist went flying at his stomach, he grabbed her wrist and made a move to sweep her feet from under her. Luckily, she jumped to the side the moment his leg went sweeping where she stood moments before. She smirked at him before ducking under his arm and twisting it. He anticipated the move and pushed her away. Unbalanced, Avery then managed to pin Amber to the wall, his forearm pressing her neck and his leg pressing against hers, to stop any kicks. He waited for some wailing and cursing about her hair getting ruined, but she just grinned as she stared at him with steel in her eyes. That surprised him. She surprised him. Her strong, bold moves; her cool attitude; her open honesty; all was foreign to him.

"Nice moves," she said, somehow still holding her unscathed risotto in her hand. "Your push unbalanced me, otherwise I could have won."

"Not a chance," he told her.

"We'll see, Greyhall. We'll see."

He stared at her, troubled by her insolent attitude. Is she a girl or not?

"Uuh, Avery Greyhall, you can release me now." Amber squirmed under his grip.

He suddenly noticed how close he was to her. His body was almost completely pressed against her body, and his face was just inches away from hers. Her grey eyes were not just plain grey. They were all shades of grey, with different tones, varying from dark to light. Amber gazed back at hm expectantly. Oh right. His face flushed for the first time in his life, and he immediately released her. At least the hallway was empty - all students went to eat - otherwise they'd both never hear the end of it.

"Ahem. Sorry. Uh, it was..." Avery ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

Amber could not comprehend his behavior. The length of his slow reaction, and his red face especially. What was going on in that small brain of his? She smoothed her grey robe and shrugged. She couldn't care less.

"It was nothing," she finished for him. "Nothing happened."

Avery gazed at her, and nodded curtly. He felt strange, as if something was compressing his chest. It felt painful, and he loathed this feeling. Nothing happened. When she said that, his heart felt like bursting, in a bad way. Nothing happened. He straightened up.

"Let's go. Headmaster Zetian has something to say to us."

Amber grumbled and muttered a curse while eating her risotto.

"Well it better be good, because she interrupted my lunch."

Then she flounced away, her hair flying behind her.