* The Misfits of Al'Magi Academy - Aesandoral

*

Aesandoral hated boats almost as much as she hated school. And that was a lot.

With every sway of the ship, she felt her stomach churn. Over the night, it had gotten bad enough that she threw up on her hair while reaching for the bucket she kept close at hand. It was disgustingly caked between dirt and blood already present, making for the perfect excuse for the haircut she had been wanting to try. An act of defiance in and of itself, for one of her familial traditions was to never cut her long mane as a tribute to the nearby woods and to honour the trees harvested by the first settlers. But if her hair hadn’t gotten in the way when they were deep in Greeythric’s Tomb searching for the stone, she would never have missed that shot on the rock golem.

Though maybe if Rionriv hadn’t rushed in like always, we wouldn’t have aggravated the guardians in the first place. She thought, holding her face in her hands, defeatedly. You force me to be the group shield even though you’re the one sprinting in all the time.

Lifting her head, Aesandoral sighed and eyed the mats of her soiled hair before casting a glance around the corner of the ship where their triops’ hammocks had been. She let out a loud huff before gently smacking her cheeks.

But, as Mama says, none of us can truly know what the future holds. So, there's no reason to be upset about the past.

“Hey, Sharzin, if you’re still somewhere in earshot, I’m going to head topsi—urg!”

The ship rocked gently, flipping the girl's stomach. Doubling over, Aesandoral barely made it to her bucket. Unfortunately, as was the case the night before, she hadn't had time to adjust and thus caught her hair in the fresh spray of bile.

“Nuuuu—” She whimpered, slowly raising her face from the container, and staring once more at the soiled strands. “It’s settled, you’re—hurm—huff—you’re on the chopping block. URG!”

Finishing the private moment with her puke bucket, she eventually slung her bow off her shoulder and made her way topside. Once there, greeted with the fresh coastal air, she noticed Rionriv leaning on the railing, looking out at Dwindlefyre. The way her red hair flowed in the wind was unnatural, sending small blue arcs of electricity dancing back over her dark skin.

Even from her current distance, Aesandoral could tell the sorceress was on edge, likely stressing about school, as was her normal state of being. This was dangerous because when Rionriv became agitated, her volatile air magic lineage began to show. Luckily, it appeared to be mainly static at its current stage, so nothing beyond standing hairs and small shocks. This meant that so long as the archer didn't touch her, everything would be fine.

I should try to take her mind off things. I’ll play it smooth and then reassure her—if only I could just get past this nausea. Oooh—I’ve got the perfect thing to say.

“Ugh, are we there yet? I hate boats.”

Nailed it.

“We’re close enough. I’m going for a walk.” She replied, her sapphire eyes flaring as her hand revealed a flourish of spellcasting.

Oh no, here comes the loud. Aesandoral immediately thought and winced in preparation.

With a thunderous step, the sound rang in Aesandoral’s sensitive ears. She had explained before that close-range thunder made her ears ring, but that never stopped Rionriv. So, for some time after that, she stood on the deck listening to the buzz of tinnitus, waiting for it to dissipate. By the time it did, the ship had reached the dock, and the short-tempered sorceress had already fled. And with no way to tell where their rogue had disappeared, Aesandoral released a disappointed huff before going about her day alone.

In fact, most of the next week of school wasn’t much different. Rionriv had spent most of her time trying to find a way to free Aesandoral from the full day's of classes she was forced to retake. Meanwhile, Sharzin was her typical self and when not in class, was nowhere to be found. And while Aesandoral found herself impressed by both of her companions' seriousness and dedication to training their specialties, she couldn't help but feel left out.

After all, neither of them liked the more physical aspects of adventuring like her. This left her longing for someone to keep up with her drive to run, jump and play. She could focus on her archery, but that would require her to go beyond what she wanted for herself and give in to her mother's demands. So, instead, she sat in class and fought exhaustion.

The second year classes, which took up half of her course load, were tough and boring, leaving Aesandoral spending most of the period looking out the windows as a last-ditch attempt at consciousness before sleep inevitably took her. She hated learning, and the only thing that made it better was her triop being there with her.

But, most of the time, Sharzin was absent or present and hiding—Aesandoral could never tell with her. As for Rionriv, she was so deep into note-taking that if the elf even breathed too loudly, she would get a whispered earful to focus. So far, being a Second Year had sucked for her. Or maybe, she was a second First Year? With everything that had happened, she was too afraid to ask.

But that changed the day she stepped out of her Arcano-Statistics class into a kerfuffle. Unsure if Sharzin had been following her or not, she groaned about the classwork while rubbing at her growling stomach. She was hungry. Extremely so. But she had unfortunately forgotten her student I.D. at her residence again, which meant she would have to go all the way back across campus to get it before she would be allowed into the eatery they had planned to meet.

I'm too hungry to think about going back—

Something about the clattering of musical instruments and the screams of her peers caught her scattered attention. As her elvish ears twitched, her head pivoted to the commotion eagerly, and the magical excitement overtook her. Unlike Rionriv, who channelled magic into spells, the archer entered combat with her magic flowing towards her hands and down the shaft of her arrows.

Slipping a lightweight leather helmet over her new undercut hairstyle, she began her sprint towards the screams.

Finally, some excitement! She thought, completely forgetting her hunger as she jumped over a stack of boxes, readying herself for combat.

Pushing past a destroyed stage, she immediately noticed the troupe of musical automatons she had observed earlier. Nocking an arrow, she targeted the machines that had gone rogue and prepared to put a swift end to their reign of terror. That was when she noticed him.

A young boy was in the distance. He had been taken to the ground and was bleeding badly as the assaulting clockwork creature readied itself to bring a cymbal down on the student's head. She released the arrow, flinching as her helmet slid down into her vision at the worst possible moment. Adjusting the leather, she watched as her attack struck the contraption’s head. This hit, unlike some of her others, was unintentionally bad and pinged off the machine without so much as a scratch.

“Crap!” Aesandoral cursed, adjusting the helmet that was now too loose thanks to her new haircut.

Panic set in as she watched the colour drain from the First Year’s face.

“Hey, don’t die, kid.” She yelled out.

“Really? Why don’t you worry about hitting—” There was a resounding clang as he was knocked unconscious.

“Double crap!" Aesandoral watched the boy fall unconscious, disappointed she couldn't save him.

She observed for a second, waiting for his I.D. to activate, but when he didn't immediately disappear, and the blood continued to pool around him, she shifted into a full panic. 

"Not another Professor Skirrtlegirt!”

Aesandoral drew her bow, focusing as she channelled a little of her magic into a single shot. With a blast of emerald energy swirling around the tip, she released her arrow and watched as it impacted the automaton, pushing it away from the First Year.

Her legs took her to the unconscious boy as hands fumbled a potion from the pouch on her hip. Sliding into position over him, she poured one of her last elixirs into his mouth. With a start, he woke up, flinging himself into a sitting position and shaking uncontrollably. 

Aesandoral watched him closely, noticing a familiarity in his posture and the way he trembled as though he had been stirred from a terror that no one else could understand. Her heart broke seeing this in a boy as young as him.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” Aesandoral asked softly, a sense of worry crossing her face as she eyed him.

“Is the battle over?” He mumbled groggily, doing his best to control his emotional response.

“No, we’re still in the—” She started, but her world went dark.

Flashes of colour filled her vision for a moment before her eyes opened once more. She coughed, peppermint flavour assaulted her taste buds and dripped down the back of her throat from her sinuses. Violently hacking up fluid from her lungs, she rolled onto her side and spat up the elixir onto the cobblestone beneath her.

“I hate this role.” She whined, pushing herself up and smacking her lips at the peppermint flavour as she threw her helmet away in protest. “The archer shouldn’t be the meat shield.”

“Hey, are you okay?” The other student asked as Aesandoral inspected him.

“You healed me?” She asked, her heart beginning to race as she looked up at him.

Aesandoral looked into his stern ruby eyes and couldn’t help but notice the shine of his white hair in the sunlight. She could feel her face growing warmer by the second as she bashfully looked away from him. He had saved her. While technically, she had saved him first, he had used one of his potions to heal her. Without her student badge, she could have permanently died. But he had saved her.

“Y—yeah?!” He stammered before raising a hand. “Could you shoot that guy, please?”

“I—uh, yeah...” She quietly mumbled, barely getting the words out before the boy fired a bolt of radiant light from his hand, ending the remaining machine.

Aesandoral took him in as he mumbled to himself. He ignored her while she tried to hide her shyness behind her bow. She didn’t know who this guy was, but ultimately she thought he was cute and, for the first time in her life, she was smitten.

Struggling to find the words to ask him, she was interrupted by a battered Sharzin who, taking a page from Rionriv's tome, began to lecture her. And, as Aesandoral did, she became distracted by this sudden addition to the moment and all but forgot about the boy until he made himself known once more before leaving.

She hadn't gotten the chance to ask his name or thank him for the rescue. All she had to remember him by was the taste of the peppermint elixir on her lips.

"Who was that guy?" She whispered, touching her mouth and blushing.

She allowed her mind to drift off to fantasies of them running through the forests of her childhood woods. Aesandoral led the way, and he kept up with her as they pursued a challenging beast through the thicket. They smiled, and she was happy. Eventually, a set of snapping fingers drew the archer out of her daydream.

"Hey, you alright there?" Sharzin asked. "Did you lose more brain cells when Bard-O-Tron beat you?"

"No, I'm—I'm fine."

"Mmmhmm—" The girl replied, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Of course!"

Sharzin eyed Aesandoral suspiciously, waiting for her reply. Unfortunately, the archer had not been paying attention.

"Nooo." She sighed defeatedly.

"Yeah, thought so. I said we should get your I.D. before any more traps try to kill you. Or worse, Rionriv kills us for being late to lunch."

"Mmm, lunch," Aesandoral muttered, her stomach resuming its growling as though it had just remembered her hunger. "Oh no! My student badge! I don't have it."

"Oh, my gods, girl," Sharzin responded, releasing her own loud sigh before beginning to stroll back towards their dorm room. "Come on..."