New Beginning, Old Problems

Soralin wanted to change her life more than anything else in the world.

No adorable puppy or cute outfit or even a promise of fortune could compare. Every second of her ridiculously boring and lonely teenage life demanded a radical departure from the mundane.

Day in and day out Soralin was a nobody. Saying that she failed to stand out was akin to saying sand was a little dry. Bigger understatements were rarely made.

But life has a way of changing things, even when things appear the same. Like magic.

“Congrats, Ms. Kinder. You’re a mage.”

Those words from three months left her floored and amazed and spinning and so many other things. A random evaluation for magical potential had turned the mundane into the magical.

Magic was a one-way ticket on the train out of her humdrum existence and into the realm of the fantastic.

Mages were models, actors, innovators, titans of industry, and just stars in general. Being a mage meant that you were special, unique, and powerful. The haze over her life was lifting and now she’d be a star.

At least that’s what Soralin thought before entering the prestigious Ars Magna Academy.

Her introduction to the school was something out of a novel. Mages were growing plants on the front lawn and flying on broomsticks from one building to another. Paintings in the hallways had moving eyes and suits of magical armor patrolled the campus grounds.

Ars Magna Academy was special, built by mages to display the wonders of magic and educate gifted individuals to become amazing arcanists. It was absolutely the perfect place to start a new and more fulfilling life.

But after three months Soralin still sat alone at lunch, in class, and was never invited to a single event. Her presence was so utterly pathetic that even her classmates often ignored her. Did anyone even know her name?

“-ralin?”

“Huh?” Soralin snapped back to present suddenly at the sound of someone actually speaking with her.

“There you are, Soralin. You zoned out for a while. Something on your mind?” It was her teacher, Mr. Fuller, and he stood in front of her adjusting the glasses on his face while looking troubled. Her inner drama was even causing her instructor distress.

“Life?”

“Sounds like more of a question than an answer but that’s fine Ms. Kinder. Now back to the lesson.”

“Right.” Soralin was in the middle of her Divination class. Everyone else was paired with friends or a crush and she got stuck with the teacher. Mr. Fuller wasn’t a bad guy but being ostracized again made her thoughts spiral.

“Gaze into the orb and channel a vision.” He said, then asked,“What was your magic style again?”

“Astro-Magia, um, an Astrology based magic.” Soralin reminded him for what was likely the dozenth time.

A magic style was like a personalized brand for magic. It determined your aptitude in any number of magical teachings. Somehow hers seemed unimpressive for anything besides minor fortune-telling.

“I’m not proficient in Astrological casting so you’ll have to guide yourself. Still, I’m here to support you. How about imagining something you want?” He suggested.

For Soralin this was easier said than done. Still, she endured and attempted to conjure some vision into her head. Friends. Wealth. Power. The standard desires.

Yet the crystal orb remained cloudy. The vision; uncertain and the magic unrealized.

“Hmm. Are you…doing anything? I can sense some mana fluctuations but…” Mr. Fuller gestured at the scrying orb.

Soralin’s face went flush as knots tied themselves in her guts. Apologies spewed out of her mouth over the failure.

“No need to apologize Ms. Kinder. Performance anxiety is quite normal.” He assured her.

“I bet you’re used to hearing that alot Mr. Fuller!” A student shouted and elicited a classroom of laughter at the teacher’s expense.

Ever calm, the teacher whipped his stern gaze upon the young boy. The student froze like a fly caught in amber. All apparent motion was sealed for the boy.

“You see, Ms. Kinder, magic isn’t just theory, imagination, or tools. At its core magic is about vision and your will to create that vision in this world.”

Mr Fuller strolled over to the paralyzed student and placed a hand on his head.

“Currently, I envision a world where young Hucklebee here can’t move a single limb or even speak till the end of class. Of course I’m only freezing the exterior movement, he’ll have to hold his own bladder till after class.”

The class erupted into laughter again and Mr. Fuller smiled as he returned to Soralin’s table.

“Wow…that is quite something.” Soralin said, still a bit dazed by the whole spectacle she witnessed.

“Yes. Well it takes alot of experience to instill these strong magics into your body, mind and spirit. Part of that experience might be joining a club.”

Mr. Fuller teased Soralin with the last line. They’d previously discussed her joining a club or other extracurricular function. Soralin’s social anxiety spiked every time they talked about it.

“I’m just not sure Mr. Fuller. Nothing seems to fit me.” Soralin admitted. More than once she’d run through the list of extracurricular clubs and none matched her few interests. Nothing allowed her minor magical talents to stand out.

“Then maybe change yourself a bit. You’d be surprised how easy it is to fit in when you become flexible. Just go see the clubs, okay? Consider it extra credit.” The teacher gave her a friendly smile and nod before he left her alone.

“Just go see the clubs? Like it’s that easy.” Soralin muttered while she drowned her anxiety in the cloudy reflection of the crystal orb.

*****************

Practicality was the best practice. Soralin made a short list of clubs during class and scribbled them on a note sheet. At least one of the less strict clubs might be interested in taking her in. With enough experience she might grow as a mage and person. Maybe even find a new passion!

As soon as class was out for the day Soralin packed up her belongings and began to travel the halls of Ars Magna Academy. Students, teachers, magical creations bustled through the halls making them feel tightly packed despite the lower than average student population.

Everyone busied themselves flying, skating, or teleporting to a destination in arcane fashion. Meanwhile Soralin was one of the few that transverse the school completely on foot. Not that she minded it much. The animated paintings and living suits of armor were typically polite. A few nodded at her with kind familiarity.

When Soralin reached her first destination her palms had begun to sweat. Her eyes were dry and itchy despite the comfortable temperature. Sucking in two big gulps of air calmed her down quite a bit. In her mind she recounted the Alchemical Cooking club known for their hospitality.

“That’s right, the Alchemical Cooking Club is known to be mild. They have bake sales and cater lunches.” Soralin reinforced her will and knocked on the door to the club room.

…No answer. She repeated the action several times over but the result was the same.

“I didn’t come all this way for nothing.” She said and began to cautiously open the club door.

Inside the club room was a disturbing scene.

The Alchemical Cooking Club had plenty of space for the various stoves, ovens, and storage staves that held various ingredients for their culinary creations. In fact, it was large enough to be a cafeteria area all by itself. Normally it was bustling with the members mixing, frying, and serving food.

But every member Soralin saw laid motionless on the floor as if stuck dead by some invisible reaper. Their eyes still open with shock as they died, their hands still held tools, and their mouths twisted as if trying to speak their last words.

Perhaps it was curiosity or concern for any possible survivors but Soralin stepped into the room and checked the nearest body. The horror on the face of the student made her recoil but as she composed herself she noticed a faint movement in their chest.

They were breathing! They were alive!

“Hey! Hey! You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get help. Ju-” Soralin noted the students’ lips forcing themselves to move. As she leaned in closer she heard the struggling message leave the member’s mouth.

“M-man…drake…”

Panic slammed into Soralin’s mind like a blow from a hammer. She knew mandrakes were dangerous plant monsters that released a paralyzing shriek when mishandled. However, they were also useful arcane ingredients for potions, elixirs and probably some dish this club made as well.

“Excuse me, are you here for something?” A female cut through Soralin’s panic state and caught her attention. It was a teacher holding the tattered remains of a vaguely humanoid shaped plant.

“I-I-I was here to-to j-join…!” Soralin struggled to get the words out but the instructor understood the gist of it.

“Well you picked a bad time. This club will be indisposed for a while. However, I can put you on the waiting list. Maybe even bump you up if you help me fix up the students.” The instructor said, with a tinge of hope.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not good at healing magic.” Soralin said.

“Then hop on off.” The teacher said bluntly. “I don’t need the unskilled here now.”

Soralin left the room and the teacher shut it and locked it with a wave of her hand.

In the future, Soralin knew she’d have to consider the full potential danger of working with magic. Regardless of how mild a club was known to be.

The next club on the list was the Astral Music Club. It was known to be a place where music lovers could come and create beautiful sounds together.

Although Soralin didn’t play an instrument she still enjoyed music and had the ability to learn.

When she approached the club room she heard wonderful classical music emanating from the walls. It sounded like an entire orchestra was working in harmony to produce a symphony of sound.

After she knocked and was welcomed into the room she saw the truth. It was only one boy utilizing his arcane powers to play many instruments at once. He conducted and played an entire orchestra solo.

“So you want to join? Do you know any of the works of Tchaikovsky?” The boy asked.

“No.”

“How about Bach?”

“Nope.” Soralin admitted.

“...Beethoven?”

“Heard of him.” She beamed. It was finally some common ground.

“I take it you’re not a composer. Just a fan…sort of?” He said, disappointed. Soralin nodded sheepishly in response.

“I’m sorry, we aren’t looking for admirers to pad our numbers. Maybe you can return once you’ve brushed up on the classics.”

The boy sent Soralin on her way and she crossed the Astral Music club off the list.

One by one she went down the list and each one met similar conclusions.

The gardening club had grown a bunch of angry Treants that wanted to overrun the club.

The newspaper club had automated most of its functions with spectral ghost writers and haunted printing presses.

Even the magical sewing club turned Soralin down claiming - rather rudely - that she lacked any sense of aesthetics.

By the end of the afternoon she’d exhausted by her options and her patience. She found herself wandering aimlessly around the emptying halls. All of the magic and wonder somehow made her feel even more mundane now. Even more isolated. The walls seemed closer to her and the people further away.

Except for one person.

Someone barreling down the hall with flames on her feet and hell on her heels. A blonde student draped in bright red robes with dazzling gold trim ran towards her full tilt into this world where Soralin felt most alone.

“Hot stuff! Coming through! Move-move-move-move-” The girl yelled and only then did Soralin realize she was standing directly in the path.

With the reflexes of a dying fish in a bucket Soralin tried to shift to avoid a collision. Unfortunately she also had the coordination of a drunken monkey and stumbled directly into the girl.

One strong arm wrapped around Soralin’s waist and caught her. Suddenly she was face to face with the blazing student.

“Hold on tight.” She said and Soralin’s arms instinctively wrapped around her neck.

The next instant they were a blur down the halls, flames trailing them as they turned sharp corners. After two or three such twists they came to a stop. The blonde kicked a line of fire across the floor that rode down the stairs.

“You’re not a snitch, are you?” The mysterious girl asked with a grin. Soralin just shook her head wordlessly. “Good! In that case…!”

The girl placed Soralin on the ground, opened a nearby closet door, then packed both of them into the cramped space together. The two were slammed so close together that Soralin could smell the vibrant scents of blooming flowers and sweet syrup that came from the blonde mage’s robe.

Still dazed and confused by the whirlwind of sudden events, Soralin took a minute to compose her thoughts. In the meantime she heard a flurry of rapid steps and rushing wind as voices shouted in the hallway.

“She went downstairs!”

“That thieving cat!”

“What else do you expect from a villain?”

After another moment Soralin heard the commotion fade as the pursuers chased the flaming trail to another location. The blonde girl in front of her released a heavy sigh and relaxed.

“Allegra.” The blonde suddenly said.

“Huh?”

“That’s my name. Figure you should know. You did look out for me here. Make us accomplices.” Allegra smiled at Soralin and some part of her brain melted into a warmth sensation. Soralin didn’t think other girls had smiles that pretty.

“I, um, yeah, like, accomplices. Wait - accomplice in what?” Soralin’s mind snapped back into focus away from the perfect smile and honey hair and perfumed robes.

“In villainy my fair lady!” Allegra pulled Soralin out of the closet and against her. “You’ve got potential. So how about it?”

“How about…what?” Soralin questioned.

“Do you want to be a villain?”