2004

September 14, 2004
The Morning:

An ocean wind whistled past the water, the beach behind it. It was all down and below the bouldery cliffs, a dozen feet from their peaks or more. It followed the cars racing down the highway. None stopped. There was only one thing to see in this town of three thousand. It looked indistinguishable from the rest of the California Coast, and there was Big Sur another few miles down the road. But between the ocean and the hills, just over the cliffs, was the town where my comrades and I lived. Leaving was forbidden without the express permission of the FBI, for here, was Ledoric’s Institute for Callow Heroes. Ledoric's for short. This was a school for the most unusual students from across the United States, a place for the government to keep us.

I was a baby in 1996. I couldn’t remember the day the Veil fell. That was when the existence of magic became common knowledge to all those who could simply never notice it before. But, it was still a thing that only a few dozen the world around could access. Ledoric’s had existed since the Civil War. The sitting president was an alumnus.

And, there its campus started at the corner of two converging cliffs. The little stone wall surrounding the most remote classrooms overlooked the crashing waves, and the nearly Central-Park-sized facilities were more than enough for the two hundred and sixty students across thirteen grades. Ledoric’s itself had a greater area than the entire, surrounding town.

There were normal schools in the town of Maple. An elementary school, a middle school, and a high school that fed students into each other. Their sports teams played against ours, and the Ledoric’s Liches were cursed to never lose. Sometimes I wondered if it was even fair for special students like ourselves to play against ordinary folks. Even the government thought they didn’t matter like we did.

Nobody was friends with the kids from Whatwasitcalled Elementary, from Whocared Junior High, or Iforgotthename High School. Nobody I knew was friends with them, at least. And, none of them wanted to be friends with us, either.

Their families paid for houses, apartments, or whatever else in Maple. We’d all be given places to stay in town for free. The government let our parents stay with us until we were in middle school, then we were expected to live in Maple on our own full-time. It never cost us a dime. It all made sense. A kid from Lincoln High School, the one down the street, may go to some nowhere college. There was a chance they could make six figures somewhere if they were really lucky. Ledoric’s Students could flunk all their classes and become a Fortune 500 CEO. Those who passed became like President Dreammaker or her cabinet.

I raced ahead of my older brother and sister for the first day of the new school year. I knew Mina would catch up, Edward might not. He ditched whenever he thought somebody wouldn’t notice. I was surprised he got away with such things in his junior year, and I was hoping he wouldn’t anymore. Mina and I had a few more years before we were in his grade. Though she was three years older than me, I was only one grade behind her. I was ahead. Luckily, that meant nobody would think Edward’s chronic irresponsibility would reflect on me. I hoped as much.

A hissing mannequin of rust and bolts stood beside the gates. The valves in the robot’s shoulders turned counterclockwise puffing with white steam. His joints clicked up and down, and his lifeless eyes tilted to meet those of each student returning to the campus. His crackling voice addressed me as it had all the students going in before me, “Alice… Sparrowbane…” one word escaped it at a time, “Sixth… Grade. Welcome back.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kork!” I flew past him. He was modeled after a human, and stood around seven feet tall. A proper giant. The full span of my little wings could easily rest across his artificial fingers. I was a fairy. Just as any other Ledoric’s student, I only paid as much attention to Kork-Eleven as I had to. Our janitor was built during the Cold War to spy on the Russians. Instead, he got stuck with this job acting as a custodian and a security officer at the same time.

The towering gateway lingered behind me. I always tried to fly exactly halfway under the top of the stone arch. I was annoyed to go a little to the side of the exact center as Kork-Eleven lingered in the middle of the pathway. I passed between the heads of some other students as I went along. This early, most of them were high-schoolers. Every grade shared the same campus, and each had less than thirty students. In my mind, late meant less than half an hour early.

“Alice?” One boy hiccuped from beside a nearby classroom. Bruno had been in my grade since I skipped ahead several years earlier. His orange beak opened slightly as he looked at me closer, and his feathered, white wings spread as if to accept a hug, “Welcome back!”

I flew around to his side and landed on his shoulder, “How’d you recognize me?” Birdfolk like him were almost the same size as humans. It was another thing I could be jealous of him about.

“Nobody here’s as short as you,” he chirped.

I raised my hand up over my head, “I’m trying to change that, all right? My brother got ten inches after his growth spurt!”

“He’s a boy fairy. Of course he’s bigger than girl fairies,” Bruno shook his head, “What are you now, two inches? Maybe four someday?”
“Two and a half!” I complained.

“I thought you’d get more over the summer. You’re short for a fairy.”

“Gee, and how was your summer?”

He hummed, “I finally got out of this little town to go on vacation with my Mom. Imagine how she reacted when I told her I wanted to quit taking my silver pills.”

I froze. My wings spread out behind me wide and defensive. I whispered, “Come on, you need those.” My voice was as neutral as I could make it.

“Alice, come on.” He forced his eyes away from mine, “T-that hour was years ago. You’re just like my Mom sometimes.”

“Your mother would agree with me,” I glared at him, “and I care about this more than she does.”

He whined, “Gosh, Alice… I know-I know! I get it! Everything is my fault, it just always is.”

“I never said that,” I brushed my hand along the feathers on his neck. They were rough, “I just meant all this isn’t fair for you, either.”

His feathers bristled under my fingers. Bruno jolted back, “Fair? You think I want to hear that from you?” He stressed.

“Just take the damn pills,” I pressed my hands together. “Please.”

“Fine,” he nodded. The tip of his wing folded downward sharply, “I owe it to you.”

I shook my head, “You don’t need to owe me anything.”

He swallowed, “I want to.”

“Whatever,” I flicked my wings back as if to fly away.

“Alice!” He pushed his wing out in front of me, keeping me in place. “I like that we’re able to talk again.”

I stopped, folding my wings behind myself, “I do too.” I sighed, “I should stop being immature and acting like this stuff bothers me.”

“Really?” He chirped. His head tilted to the side slightly. His beak poked open.

“Never make me change my mind.”

“I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t!” He trembled. Bruno’s gaze lingered between the clouds. He finally let me fly away, continuing toward the center of the courtyard.

Some of the classrooms were little cottages spread around long pathways. They were relics from when the school was first built on the outside. Inside, they were fitted with all the newest things. The newest buildings had been erected when I was in the third grade. They were concrete. Far more practical with half the character.

We had an amphitheater between everything. A few chairs were lined up on the stage, most still empty. Principal Gray and his wife, Vice Principal Gray loitered beside each other near the edge of the stage. She sat with her legs hanging off the edge, most of the way to the ground.

Ms. Snowfox was my favorite teacher because she was the only fairy on the Ledoric’s staff. Yet, she seldom looked like one. She spent most of her days transformed into an arctic fox, and now was curled into a comfortable ball of white fur on one of the plastic chairs. Her head poked up to glance over the audience as she murmured something to herself.

Mrs. Whitebird’s spindly, silver hair spread out haphazardly below her. She lay on her side across the stage. The chair behind her had been deliberately toppled onto its side. I wasn’t sure quite what statement she intended to make. She had a glass Heineken bottle clenched between her hands. A cigar hung lazily from her lips, hissing with smoke. I could tell her summer was uneventful, the kind that changed nothing about someone.

The next to file in was the silver-scaled reptilian, Mr. Archstar. His tail swished below him as he walked. His eyes cut over the students taking their seats around the amphitheater and many grumbled as they saw him. Then there was Mrs. Oskarsdottir, a gruff woman with a full beard. A guitar was tied around her back. Mr. Acton followed her, another reptilian, this one with green scales, and he entered to a roaring applause from the gathered students. The half-snakes Mr. and Mrs. Sharp slithered in after, but they were so absorbed in some prior conversation that Mrs. Sharp bumped into one of the chairs in front of her.

I perched on the branch of a tree overlooking the stage. There was no point in sitting on one of the benches. Aside from being too large, they were lined up such that if anyone sat in front of me, I’d see nothing. I had no interest in trying to exert myself to hover throughout the entire assembly. Such was exhausting. The branch shifted as someone else landed beside me.

Mina was over an inch taller than I was, a tremendous amount for only being three years older. She wasn’t particularly tall for a fairy, but I always seemed to grow a little slower than everyone else my age. She poked me, “See, I told ya I’d be early.”

“And Edward?”

“He’s sick,” she made little quotation marks with her fingers. I rolled my eyes.

“What electives were you planning to take this year?” Ledoric’s had a fabulously wild schedule. Each teacher taught their own, unique elective class. Every student from second grade on was required to take four elective classes.

“Ugh, Alice, I haven’t even thought about it. You go first. Maybe you’ll give me an idea.”

“Battle Tactics, Magical Theory and History, Treasure Hunting, and Magical Creatures: How Not to Get Yourself Eaten.”

Mina scrunched her face up, “Cool, useless, useless, and that one- I guess you care about that one specifically.”

I looked away, “Magical Theory sounds super helpful!”

“For a nerd,” she poked me on the nose, just under my glasses, “what about Freudian Psychology? I think I’ll take that.”

“What, because of Mom?” I muttered.

“That’s not fair, Alice.” She looked down, watching leaves twirl down from the tree, “Maybe she should have been a student here instead of you. Then Principal Gray or Nurse Var would give her back to me.”

I grabbed her hand, “She’s too old to be a student here.”
“She’s only thirty-six, Alice. She could be a senior, right?” Mina giggled.

“She’ll be thirty-seven soon.”

“Fine, we need to find her now, then. And, we’ll have a big birthday party for her. We’ll invite everyone.”

“I don’t think Olivia, Willis, Bianca, and Bruno care.”

“I’ll invite everyone but Bruno,” Mina gritted her teeth, “Mom would want him to be all alone.”

"Mom is nicer than that," I clenched the hem of my dress.

Mina grabbed me by the shoulder, "Come on, when did you start this whole act. You used to at least admit that you hated him."

"Stop, Mina." I pressed tighter against my dress. She looked down at my hands. She ran her own fingers along my sleeve, "It's pretty fabric, isn't it. Do you remember what you were wearing that day? It was a dress Mom made for you, just like this one, right?"

"Stop!" I inhaled heavily through my mouth. I started breathing more heavily.

"Mom was crushed. She didn't understand how things work here, yet. Imagine what the look on her face was. And that dress she made, she sewed it herself, it's gone forever now." She pinched my cheek, “but, it was just an accident, right?” she asked tauntingly.

My shoulders pinched inward, as my breathing accelerated. I felt hot, the sun was coming up too fast. The wind was rocking me back and forth until my stomach churned. Mina kept talking, but in my ears, her words slurred into pure thundering drums. I bent over as my head spun, and I felt the contents of my stomach spill out of my mouth.

Mina looked over me, her eyes widened, “Oh, goodness, Alice. She grabbed a handkerchief from her dress pocket and wiped my mouth with it.

“I just got a bit dizzy. I hate when it gets hot suddenly.”

“You used to love when it was sunny out.”

I shook my head, “No-no-no! I hate it, Mina! I hate the heat!”

She pushed me into the shade of the tree’s higher leaves, “Do you ever ask why?”

I leaned back against the tree’s trunk, “What does it matter why? Everyone hates when it’s too hot or too cold.”

“Alice…” A beat. She sighed, “Whatever- you don’t want to hear it.” She lay down beside me, resting her head against the tree’s bark. Her lef wing and arm spread out below her, hanging down off the branch.

I sat silently for a while, catching my breath, “Sorry…” I finally said.

“No, come on,” she looked up at me, “sometimes just… remember we’re on the same team, all right?”

Principal Gray clapped twice. He looked over the benches around the ampitheater, and noticed Mina and I in our treebranch, “Good Morning, America! Future of America, yada-yada.” A supportive chuckle from Vice Prinicpal Gray beside him. He went on, “Now, the 2003-2004 School Year, was very eventful. We had a few students die: they got better. But, the California State Tests, we smashed them!” I raised his fist in the air like a victorious boxer.

Vice Principal Gray stepped forward, “Now, we’d like to welcome our incoming Kindergarten class. Only nineteen of you this year. Class of 2017, we’re rooting for you!”

Mina whispered to me, “Gee, they’re in for the long haul.”

Mrs. Oskarsdottir cleared her throat, “Now, last year, we won the Monterey County Championships in Basketball, Soccer, Football, and Ping Pong. Obviously, this year, our sports teams need to step it up. Water Polo, we’re not repeating that.” She glanced around, waiting for some response from the crowd, “That will be all. Mr. Azure and I will see you at practice.”

“Mr. Acton, you had something you’d like to say?” Principal Gray invited him up to the microphone.

He took it, “Yes-yes. You see, I have the student council election results from last year.” He flipped through them, “President: Drake Nome. Come up here, please!” Someone whispered in his ear. “Right, he’s still on vacation with his cousin until tomorrow. Vice President: Mina Sparrowbane! Is that right?”

Mina bounced up beside me, “See, I told you I’d win!” She smirked. She darted down the stage, landing on the podium beside Mr. Acton.

He looked down at her, “And, you’re in seventh grade this year, right?” He pondered.

“Why, yes!” She said into the microphone, “Student body, constituents, I accept your selection with a tremendous honor. This is historic, you know?”

Mr. Acton whispered to her, his voice carrying through the microphone, “You can make an acceptance speak later, Mina.” He cleared his throat, “But, this is an incredible election. A student before high school has never been elected to the student council here.”

She took a bow before everyone and flew back up to our perch. I smiled, “Nice job.”

“Come on, it was easy. The outgoing vice president was a senior, so there was no incumbent, and the other candidates were a bunch of random nerds. Nobody likes them.” One of them was a very nice girl who often showed up to the chess club. I almost voted for her, but in the end, I had to vote for Mina. She cared about popularity, she cared about what people thought about her, but she believed she could use this position. She didn’t care about her constituents, but about what the title could bring her in proximity to. I didn’t think it was realistic, but we both understood it was worth a try.

Mr. Acton also listed the names of various other officers in the student leadership. He gave them a moment to come up to the stage and say their piece. None of these titles really meant anything, it was the teachers who made the real decisions. Mina had asked me if she should risk running for president. But, there was an incumbent who wasn’t graduating, and we thought he was running again. He pulled out of the election at the last second, so there was a chance we could have pursued that instead, but it wasn’t guaranteed.

Principal Gray returned to the front, “And, some acknowledgements to end off the morning. Once I dismiss you, you’ll find your class assignments posted outside the gym.” He flipped over a little, white note card. He went along a list of names for the top scoring student in each grade for the previous year. “In third grade: Hannah Glenn, in fourth grade: Markus Whig, in fifth grade: Alice Sparrowbane… again…”

Mina nudged me, “Nice.”

“It’s not like there’s a prize,” I laughed inwardly.

After listing all the grades, he continued, “And, a few teachers’ picks for outstanding performance last year.” He looked down at the index card and grumbled, “Really? You guys only put in one? For excellent growth around other students, Ms. Snowfox would like to commend Bruno Stafford!” He called out.

Bruno perked up in the audience. Mina loudly booed. As she did, so did a group of other students, all calling out and jeering at him. She laughed as they went on. I ignored her, and tried to quietly clap for him. Mina squeezed her opposite wrist, “They should be rewarding you instead. It’s not fair.”

“I already got an award.”

“What does that have to do with the biggest crater on the moon?”

“Ms. Snowfox just wanted to make sure he got recognized too,” I justified.

“Bianca is usually smarter than that,” she complained. “Imagine anyone thinking Bruno… that thing… deserves something you don’t.”

“He’s a kind person…”

“Alice, you know better than that. You more than ayone.”

“I know…” My words slipped out of my lips, hardly a sound more than a squeak to them. Somehow, I didn’t want Mina to hear me, as much as I had to say what was simply true. The assembly ended with roaring applause from the students and faculty, all welcoming the new year together. Of course, I was sure it wouldn’t be the worst year I’d ever lived.