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“There you are. I’ve wasted my whole afternoon trying to find you.” Alexandraya spits as she reaches the bottom of the Reading Hub.
“I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”
“The Authority wants me to show you to our accommodations. Let’s go.”
I grab my satchel, and jump to my feet. Alexandraya’s scowland impatience leaves me twitching.
We walk through a grassy arena, but I barely have time to take in the surroundings. Alexandraya is on a mission, and it seems she plans on fulfilling her obligations as quickly as she can to be free from her new burden—me.
Approaching the dormitories, I am taken aback by the fact that they are individual huts. Minus Alexandraya, things on Evolirium are looking up.
“Over there, past these huts, to the left and round the corner is your hut. Your belongings will be outside the front door.” She pivots on her heel and vanishes, leaving me to find my own way.
Following her rushed directions, I walk around the interconnecting pathways until I stumble across my belongings. They are positioned outside a neat looking hut at the end of a row of mirrored dorms.Perfect.
A voice from behind startles me. “Can I help you with those?”
Turning, I settle my gaze on a guy with short cropped sandy hair.
“I’m Roman, it’s a pleasure to live in your lane.”
A laugh escapes my lips. “Sure, grab a bag.”
Chapter2
Siriarna
Stefanie was wrong! My magic has not progressed.
It’s been two years since I arrived at Evolirium, and I skip power progression classes wherever possible. It’s how I ended up in the Authority’s office today. I remember sitting here on my arrival when I was paired with Alexandraya. What a disaster that turned out to be. Her torment remains consistent and so has our mutual dislike. I had such hope for this year, but it is proving to be the same as the previous—magic useless.
My thoughts are dragged back to the present. “Are you listening to me Siriarna?” the exasperated Authority announces.
It was only a matter of time before I was caught. The Authority clears his throat, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, High Power Omnisensus,” I reply vaguely.
This response affords me another half an hour of lectures. I guess I deserve it.
I make a pledge to try my best to focus and attend all remaining physical sessions before selections.This time, I really mean it.
After my release, I rush into the corridor and almost knock the books straight from Alexandraya’s arms.
“Watch it ‘basic’. Gods, you are still so useless. You really don’t belong in this realm. I’m surprised you’re still here. Surely you realise you won’t be anointed at the Propensity Selections. Your powers are just so, well, ‘basic’.” She throws back her head and laughs at her own joke.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” I reply meekly.
“Well, how could you with all that hair covering your eyes.” She spews the words whilst continuing on her way without a backward glance.
Whilst I’m used to Alexandraya’s insults, I do fear she is right. At this rate I won’t qualify for a Propensity, and I will be forced to make a decision about where my remaining 500-year future lies. I silently curse my stubborn magic. It only seems to cooperate when moving electrical currents—a small and insignificant portion of the 6th Propensity. Damn the Fates for continually ignoring my desperate pleas for flowing magic.
Hear me this time, please hear me.
Brushing off Alexandraya’s insult, I continue down the hallway and head straight back to the Knowledge Room, my safe place. However, her insult is lodged firmly in the back of my mind. To distract myself from sinking further into dark thoughts, I immerse myself in a new book, losing track of time until the shrill sounding class bell jolts me back to the present. Dropping the book and grabbing my satchel, I sprint from the library. I don’t want to be late to class again and end up back in High Power Omnisensus’ office. Especially, so soon after promising to attend physical lessons.
As I open the classroom door sweaty and flustered, I notice the room is already full. I am the last to arrive, as usual. I lower my head as 28 pairs of eyes turn to stare at me. Melodie reaches over and whispers to both Davina and Alexandraya. These girls have been nothing but a trio of nightmares since my arrival—I secretly call them the TON. I’ve only shared the acronym withRoman. He thought it was hilarious when I first mentioned it, saying it matched their interchangeable personalities.
The only free seat left in class is right in front of the TON. I can’t believe my bad luck.
