The Misfits of Al'Magi Academy: Aesandoral Thantossa

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. It had been so bad that she even threw up on her hair in the middle of the night. It was disgusting, but also a perfect excuse for the haircut she had been wanting to try.

She knew 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, she would never have missed that shot on the rock golem.

But 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.

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 tips of her soiled hair. With a look around the corner of the ship where their triops’ hammocks had been situated, she released a loud huff before smacking her cheeks gently.

But like 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!”

Doubling over, Aesandoral barely made it to her bucket. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to adjust, catching her hair in the fresh spray.

“Nuuuu—” She whimpered. “It’s settled, you’re—hurm—huff—you’re on the chopping block.”

Finishing the private moment with her puke bucket, she made her way topside. Once there, greeted with the fresh 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 norm. And when Rionriv became agitated, her volatile air magic lineage began to show.

It was mainly static at this stage, so nothing beyond standing hairs and small shocks. This also meant that if she wasn’t touched, everything would be fine.

I should try and 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.

As the gangplank was lowered, Aesandoral made her way to leave for her current mission.

“Hey, Sharzin. I don’t know if you’re around, but I’m going to get a hair wash and cut. If you want to join, we can go together.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you.” A soft voice whispered in Aesandoral’s ear. “I have my own things.”

She looked around quickly, but no one was there.

“Where are you?”

“Down here.”

Looking over the edge of the boat, Aesandoral eventually spotted Sharzin's dark cloak in a nearby shadowy alley. Her friend waved sweetly.

“How did you get down there so fast?”

But there was no reply, and, with a blink, Sharzin had disappeared. Releasing a disappointed huff, Aesandoral went about her day by herself.

In fact, most of the next week of school wasn’t much different.

The classes 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.

But currently, Sharzin was absent, or maybe present and hiding—Aesandoral could never tell with her. As for Rionriv, she was so deep into the note-taking that if Aesandoral 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. It was unclear to her if it was the clattering of musical instruments or the screams of her peers that caught her attention first. But as her elvish ears twitched, her head pivoted in the direction of the commotion.

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

Finally, some excitement! She thought, bounding over a stack of boxes.

Pushing past a destroyed stage, she immediately noticed the troupe of musical automatons she had observed earlier. Nocking an arrow, she was able to tell that the machines had gone rogue and were just beginning their reign of terror.

Aesandoral, wanting to get some frustration out, jumped from her corner where she could see a distant clockwork creature readying to bring a cymbal down on a young-looking student.

She released the arrow and watched as it struck true with the contraption’s head, pinging off harmlessly.

“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! 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.

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.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” Aesandoral asked, giving his cheeks small pats.

“Is the battle over?” He mumbled groggily.

“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.

“I hate this role.” She groaned, pushing herself up and smacking her lips at the taste of peppermint. “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.

Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump!

She looked into his stern ruby eyes and couldn’t help but notice the shine of his white hair in the sunlight. Aesandoral felt her face grow warm as she bashfully looked away from him.

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

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

Aesandoral took him in as he mumbled to himself, ignoring 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 kind of cute.