THREE. The Spark

"Good Morning" Alice greets me.

My eyes struggle to open as I stand blankly at my doorway. She looks at me confused, tapping her talon on her folders as I struggle to stay focused. "What..are you doing here so early in the morning?" I yawn, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Alice looks me up and down, maybe out of curiosity or disgust.

"It's already 4 in the morning," she replies bluntly, poking lint off of my shirt. I take a moment to process what she's saying before it sets in, and I'm finally awake. "Four? Am I late to something? I didn't know I was supposed to be awake by four"

"You're not." she says "You're supposed to be awake half past three. You're supposed to already be out of your dorm by four. We won't have time for the tour anymore." she sighs, making her way past me and into my room.

The dorm is about 4 paces long and 3 paces wide, with a simple bed in the left corner and a large window at the farthest wall. At the right, 2 bookshelves, a wardrobe, a desk, and a cushioned chair near the far right corner. When I entered Elegy Hall yesterday night, I remembered the room felt much colder and narrower than it had been. To my surprise, when I woke up this morning, warm, comforting light crept through my windows and the semi-transparent curtains I had regarded as 'ragged' when I entered at midnight now looked similar to a cloud, effortlessly moving back and forth as a light breeze ran through my half-open window. The contrast was a pleasant surprise. While this room didn't exactly have the same prestige my room in the palace had, it certainly gave me great sleep.

My eyes attempt to fully focus as my head starts to clear it's fog. Unfortunately, mornings in Zariera were something I could never get used to. The idea that the sky would be filled with sunlight only a few minutes past 2 was absolutely exhausting. 

Time acts differently in Zareria. While in human land, it would be dark and the sun would be barely coming out from the horizon, Zareria's suns move much quicker, with Ava, the first sun, rising as soon as it turns 1, and Eta, the second [human] sun, following suit at normal speed. Though my time at the palace had made me somewhat used to the early daylight, I still woke up near 6-7 like I did back in the human realm, while all the other attendants and officers would wake up near 1-3. I assumed that it was a unique trait of the palace and its formalities, but it never occurred to me that the sleep schedule of mystics might actually be set that way.

"Your uniform should be in here…" Alice mutters to herself, walking across the smooth floor and reaching into the tall wooden wardrobe "Since you're an heir you'll be wearing a slightly different uniform than normal students. Hurry and get dressed. You've missed breakfast so don't bother going to any nutritional facilities right now, I guarantee they won't have any food" she explains, handing me a black uniform with golden embroidery and a simple brown cardigan to pair. I take it from her hands and head to the bathroom to change.

The uniform was slightly difficult to wear, but once it was on, it fit perfectly. The uniform was a simple white button-up and white black dress pants. Gold patterns wove around my neck, waist, and ankles, with the cardigan fitting loosely over my shoulders and reaching just towards the middle of my thigh. Once I was out of the bathroom, Alice was waiting for me by the doorway.

"Good, you're done. Now let me see your schedule" she orders. I pull the two folders out of my bedside drawer and hand them to her. She looks at me weirdly and hands me the bigger folder out of the two. "I can't look at this. This is your personal folder. Don't hand it to anyone. It contains all your personal information, including your hobbies and things you wouldn't want people to know." she chides, letting out an annoyed sigh. I take it back from her with a nervous smile. That could've been bad if she wasn't such a trustworthy person. 

"Then what's that folder?" I ask her, pointing to the smaller white folder she was holding.

"This is your Academic folder. It holds your schedule, map, and ID, and it's also what guides like me use to show you where you'll be frequenting in the Academy" she answers. She shifts her head to the side, signaling to follow her down the hall. 

Elegy Hall wasn't as bad as I expected—at least, in the morning. I arrived here yesterday while it was dark and the lights were dimmed. That, paired with the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion after I hauled ass to 2 different halls, a cafeteria, and a field before I finally arrived at Elegy Hall itself. 

At the time, the corridors of the large space looked almost sinister, with the way the smooth, dark wooden walls would merge with the shadows and darkened corners, contrasting the moon, which seemed to be brighter here than anywhere else. Now, walking through the halls with Alice in front of me and the suns high in the sky, the sunlight shining through the large windows made the dark wooden walls feel like a canvas for the suns to paint with their rays. I spot a few faeries outside in the courtyard, many of which ignore my presence completely. Others spare me a glance but show no reaction to Alice and me. As we reached the end of the hall, a large door was held open by a towering wooden pole. Above the door, words carved into the doorframe read: "TO THOSE WE LOST" which I assume is a reference to the name of this hall, 'Elegy' hall. 

"Alright, before we go forward let me explain a few things," Alice says, stopping in place and facing me. "For starters, all humans are held in Elegy Hall because faeries are the least harmful to them. I would still make sure to lock and block off your door properly though." she waves the folder in a circular motion, tilting her head to the side.

 Convenient that she tells me this after I'm at least 60 feet away from my dorm room.

"Breakfast is from 3:30 to 4, Classes start at 4:30, Lunch is at 10, and your schedule after that depends on what your classes are. For now, you only have ACA tests on your schedule so there's no point in me explaining what each class will do. To even properly enter the Academy, you need to get at least two passing scores." she explains, handing me a paper with my current schedule.

As she explained, there are only 3 things on my schedule: "IACAT 5:00, A2'', "PACAT 10:00, A1", and "AACAT 15:00, A4". I look at the acronyms on each of each 'class' and it's unclear to me what they mean. Now that I mention it, she mentioned something called 'ACA'? "What do these letters stand for?" I ask her. She peers over my shoulder and points at the text at the bottom of the page labeled 'Test Instructions'. The text describes detailed instructions for the different tests that would be held, mostly little things like 'please do not commit any form of violence or inappropriate behavior during testing time' or 'please be prepared with a pencil and pen', trivial and basic conduct that applies to nearly every test in existence.

"Intelligence Academic Test, Physical Academic Test, and Ability Academic Test" she replies. "These tests are to calculate your Academic Level, or ACA—which is what most of us call it. ACA is ranked from 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest. The average from all 3 of your tests is what calculates your ACA and also decides what classes and what level of those classes you will take. I wouldn't worry about landing a high score though, as most of the humans I've seen enter the Academy don't get much higher than a 2 or 3, which is pretty average in itself." she says firmly. I nod and read over the last few instructions as she leads me to the first testing area.

We walk down some stairs and back into the hall I first arrived in yesterday, then into the building next to it. A sign near the entrance is labeled 'A2 Archival Studies' in bold text. As we enter the building my nose is immediately attacked by the scent of cedar and ink, which I note is very similar to the scent of the palace library's. The classroom is extremely neat, with bookshelves filled to the brim with books all over the walls. I find run-down copies of Krauvin and Onyx, Ruchavyan philosophers, and wonder if they're second or even first editions, seeing as the bindings looked so worn and used.

 "And this is where I leave you" Alice tells me, her eyes darting to the clock right above the blackboard, "It's 4:23 and I need to get to my first class. I'll find you here before lunch to show you to the nutritional facilities." She turns to the door.

 "Oh, and another thing. You need to finish at least within 5 hours to pass this test, and be on your guard. Though the proctors are responsible for you within the allotted testing time, I can't say the same for before and after that." she informs me, not-so-discreetly hinting that there might already be a target on my back. 

She hands me back my Academic folder before waving goodbye and hastily leaving the room, as if purposely avoiding my questions. I have no time to ask what she meant by 'being careful' in the testing site. There was only so much I could think of when I thought of what biased mystics would do to an unguarded human, and even less of what to do to prepare for it. It would certainly help if she'd tell me how far they're willing to go in order to mildly inconvenience me. Or kill me.

I glance out the door and watch her take off in flight towards her next class, a few golden feathers falling from her wings. I convince myself that nothing possibly life threatening could happen—or at least, I hoped there wouldn't. It would be annoying to have to fight for my life the first day I spend at the Academy.

What could possibly go wrong in a classroom of all places? 

That thought isn't the least bit ominous or foreshadowing. Totally.

Turning back to the room in front of me, I find a free seat and wait for the test to start. There's chatter all around me, with some students even whispering about how to cheat or get a higher test score. I hear the chair next to me slide back and the sound of soft fabric landing on the seat next to me. I look over to find a human-like mystic at my side. Judging from her unique appearance despite looking like a human, she was most likely a faery. Other than her pink hair and blue eyes, she was completely human-looking, which is a trait none but fae share.

"Hi" she giggles. It was a sound that was certainly bewitching, something so beautiful I almost felt my heart skip a beat. Unfortunately, her seduction was met with a mellow reaction. After all, it was me she tried to enchant. You can't make a heart beat faster when there is no heart to affect in the first place. Her eyes narrowed into crescents and there's a mischievous grin on her face, leading me to believe that she sat next to me with a motive.

The faery was most likely a pixie. She had wavy pink hair and mellow blue eyes, her complexion was fair, not exactly pale—but her skin looked flushed. She wore a simple white dress with tiny yellow sunflowers embroidered into the straps. My eyes unintentionally wandered toward her, noticing that she wasn't in uniform like everyone else. Actually, when leaving Elegy Hall, I never saw any other faeries wearing uniforms either. 

"Curious?" she teases, referring to my prolonged stare. I catch myself and avert my gaze. A tiny frown graces her features. "Not Curious?" she restates, pouting her lips forward. She was the embodiment of 'fae', the riddle-speaking, honey lipped faery from stories human children would be told to scare them into behaving. Her smile was enchanting, her gaze, more-so. Like a beautiful dessert laced with deadly poison.

 "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare" I sigh. I didn't exactly mean to strike a conversation, but if a faery talks to you first, it means hell if you end it prematurely. Her brows raise and she grins at me, flashing her teeth, which I noticed were almost razor sharp. Definitely a faery. 

"No worries, It's natural considering how rare us faeries are. Though you're pretty rare yourself, human" she hums. She emphasized the word human but I doubt it was out of malicious intent. I turn my head back to her, noticing a little ball of wind she's summoned to her palm. "Well, what are you curious about? You almost stared holes into my dress." she muses, focusing her sapphire-colored eyes on the golden embroidery of my dress shirt. 

"Why aren't you wearing a uniform?" I ask her. At first, she seemed surprised I'd replied to her, as if expecting me to ignore her or reply in a different manner. I understand why she would think that too, considering that almost no one would even look at a faery. To my information, however, talking to a faery is not 'bonding' with one, so it doesn't matter to me. It's not as if I'm even capable of 'bonding' with anyone. Not with my disposition. She smiles and points to the red band on her wrist. 

"It's because I'm a faery," she tells me, spinning the bracelet around her wrist. "Faeries technically aren't part of this Academy, but a separate one that just happens to share the same buildings, that's why we have our own dorm building and everything. Check chapter 156 of your Archeval and you'll be able to read all about it." she stares at her wrist, creating another little wind cluster in her hand. There's a slight hostility in her eyes while she stares at her hands, making me wonder what she's thinking about. "Now I get to ask a question. How come you're not wearing a uniform?" she asks me. 

I listened in confusion, wondering what she was talking about. My uniform may be a little different, but it's still a uniform. As I look past her hands, however, I notice a familiar-looking sleeve on her, then a familiar-looking skirt, and… 

"Wait, my uniform?" I say out of surprise. Looking down at my own body, I find that my uniform is missing, and in place of it was the white dress she was just wearing, enchanted exactly to fit my size. I open my mouth to say something but no words fit what I'm thinking. She starts to laugh hysterically, clenching her stomach with her arms and baring her teeth at me.

 "Hilarious! Took you so long to notice!" she mocks, holding her stomach out in laughter. I honestly should've sensed something was wrong. No faery offers something for free. "Wow, this uniform really is pretty! Why don't I wear it for you?" she jeers, pointing her finger to my chest. I feel the stares from other students creeping up on my back, but no one dares to come and help me. None of them want to associate with a faery. Even less with a human like me.

I clench my fists. Annoying. Her laughing annoys me. Even if it was just a stupid prank, a low, hanging feeling lingers around my forehead, which I register as annoyance. After this, I'll probably have to purchase a new one, which will take up some time. I glance at the mystics behind me and notice a few of them snickering behind their hands. Some have a look of pity, some turn their heads out of respect. I stay silent, not wanting to draw attention to myself more than I already have. I haven't even gotten my classes yet and I've lost my uniform. 

A part of me feels defeated. 

Not wanting to start any trouble, I ignore her banter and face the board.

 "Hey, are you ignoring me—"

"You're being awfully loud, Daffodil" a voice behind me chuckles. An unfamiliar shiver runs up and down my spine. Strange. Is it cold? I didn't feel a change in temperature..

The owner of the voice was a tall, lean faery with a book opened loosley in his hands. My lungs stop working. He's beautiful. A whisper of something different brushes my ear, disturbs my static, but I ignore it. His skin is fair and ghostly pale, with only a single defining scar carved across his lips and down his neck. Medium-length pitch-black hair with almost teal-blue eyes, it felt as if his very image was burned in my vision, as with most fae I've met. Alluring and equally as dangerous. He wore a fitted dark long-sleeved button-up half-tucked in his dress pants, as well as two bright red seals on his wrist. A tattoo on the left side of his neck read 'CURSEDBLOOD' in Zifranic, a language that was commonly used in areas heavily occupied by faeries and mystics, a pseudo-Granfersic [Faery language] that can actually be written. 

"You could be a little quieter, you know, '' he says in a friendly tone. Not a single word or tone in his voice hinted hostility, but it felt oddly threatening. As he spoke, I noticed the look of fear on Daffodil's face, trembling lips, and averted eyes. She shrunk into her seat. The silence she chose for herself was louder than her previous laughter. 

"Yes, I know… I'm sorry" she stumbles over her words, immediately changing our outfits back with the snap of her fingers. I watch as his idle grin turns into a sickeningly sweet, but somehow sinister-looking smile at me—only for a moment, and turns away. It happened so quickly I almost didn't catch it. He shelves the book he had in his hand and begins to walk to a free seat. As he walks to his spot, mystics and faeries alike avoid him. As the faint whispers of fear and disgust begin to fill the room, I can almost hear it. 

The sound of something new in me snapping into place.

"Excuse me—" I begin to call out to him, but my mouth is suddenly covered by Daffodil's hands. I'm pulled back down into my seat. 

I turn my head back to look at her, irritated by her meddling, especially after her previous actions. So Arrogant. She has no respect. The static in me is promising something greater than just annoyance. Find him, it whispers. Find him and you could feel so much more than what the pixie is making you feel, it promises. If only I could get closer to him. I rip her hands off of me, tightly gripping her wrist as she looks at me with shock lining her dark blue eyes. I can almost hear the thoughts in her head screaming. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Calm down." She reasons with me, talking in a much more respectful manner than before. "Kleptomania. All pixies struggle with it, okay? It's how we're created." she rushes to explain, gesturing with her eyes to let her go. Hesitantly, I comply.

Kleptomania. A common trait that appears in pixies; the irrational need to steal, and their nature, a faery's nature. The set purpose they were born for, and a trait they will never be able to change. I remember being stuck in the library for hours studying said natures.

 "...Fae will exist forever, never-changing in their natures. A battle with the faeries can never be won, and a battle started by a faery can never end. Once the faeries make up their mind, your fate is set in stone. That is why they are feared." (The Universal Study of Faerykind by Agrem Julius). Pixies in particular are known for their mischief against other species, both faery and mystic. Even in the present, so many seasons after their coming into existence, they haven't found a cure for kleptomania no matter how many times they've looked for an alternative, or a way to satiate their need for thievery. 

"So? What's your deal?" I ask. Go to him, the static impatiently whines. I push down the urges to whatever this ringing is beckoning me to focus on the pixie in front of me. By no means do I appreciate her theatrics, forced or no. Moreover, her personality differs greatly from her previous sweet tone or malicious jeers. A more reasonable, logical air surrounds her, which is confusing on its own. Multiple Personality Disorder, perhaps?

Daffodil sighs and points to my uniform. "I need to apologize. I never meant to steal your uniform from you. This whole steal whenever you see something pretty feeling just takes over me sometimes and I go completely unconscious. That guy snapped me out of it though" she explains. By 'that guy' I suppose she's referring to the strange faery who helped me earlier, though I'm sure it wasn't so much as helping me as quieting the annoying laughter of a pixie high on thievery. I'm surprised she even had the decency to apologize, though I don't question if she really means it, faeries can't lie after all. "And anyways, I saved you, so we're even" she finishes.

"Saved me?" I inquired, narrowing my eyes.

She groaned in annoyance, most likely because she wanted to end the conversation there, but points to the unknown faery from earlier despite her attitude. He's sitting at his seat near the front of the class, where the only window covered in a tarp is, casting a shadow over his figure. "That is Nixie, and as his surrogate name suggests, he's the first and only nixie to enter the Academy as of now" she explains "If he had taken an interest in you, you would have died." she tells me. I scoff at her exaggeration. No, maybe it wasn't.

Nixies are violent faeries. 

They were known to be the final force that allowed the boundary to be put between Zariera and the human world. Though their numbers are minuscule compared to other Fae and the entire mystic race as a whole, they were an undefeatable force against the humans. While pixies are born from silly pranks and petty crimes, nixies were born from the death of others, separated from all of Faerykind. They find pleasure in violence, especially against objects of love or obsession. Their bodies were built for combat, almost completely functioned to kill and torture, which makes them almost completely unable to bend the truth like other faeries, as the more power a faery has, the more power their wordless they become. And Nixies? They are the pinnacle of faerykind.

 Getting a nixie interested in you is like asking to get ripped apart, one limb at a time. In the first place, finding a nixie in any populated area is rare because of the high chance of a massacre taking place in their appearance, so the fact that there's a nixie in the Academy of all places is…concerning, to say the least.

I watch as he places a familiar-looking contraption in his ear, white wires and little bulbs connected to a tiny white box. Earbuds. He must've acquired that from the human world. I wonder how he managed to get those. I haven't seen human technology since I was taken here. 

It's the first time I've ever seen a nixie. At least, in person. He's scarily beautiful, with a smile that seems forever plastered on his face. From the time he had first appeared behind me, to the present, not once had I ever seen him rest his smile. He makes me curious. Curious enough that I'd walk there now and ask him a few questions if it didn't mean missing the test. Or maybe it was more than just 'curiosity'. 

"I wonder what his name is…" I mutter to myself. Maybe his true name means something like 'beauty' or 'passion' like Apphrodite's, one of the human realm's many ideas of the God of beauty. He was incredibly beautiful, I could see how many were lured to their death by a nixie's whim. No, chances are his name wasn't as glorifying as Apphrodite's. Religion no longer exists in Zariera. No one would dare to name a youngling after a God, not after the First Purification. 

Daffodil seems to have heard me, as she looks at me as if I'd whispered a slur in her ear.

"Are you crazy? Maybe you don't know what a nixie is because you're human, but if you get involved with him, especially with your weak-ass? You'll die. A nixie's sheer strength is enough to crush a human skull with a finger." she warns, placing the tip of her finger on my forehead. 

"I know what a nixie is, Daffodil." I sigh, moving her hand away from me.

"Are you sure? Because from how I see it, you're racing to meet your end not long before nightfall. Curiosity kills the cat." she sighs, rubbing her temple.

 "I know just enough about all mystics. I worked in the palace." I sigh, fidgeting with the golden ring on my index finger. Why must I explain myself to a meddling fool? She seems to think the same, shrugging and turning to look out the window, probably deciding that I wasn't her problem anymore, as if saying,'Fine, go die if that's what you really want'.

"Oh, so you're one of the Razerin's dogs. Makes sense why your head is so full of air." she scoffs, not even bothering to look me in the eye when she says it. 

I look back at Nixie, who's falling asleep listening to music. When I had first entered the empire, fae were the first beings I studied while the instructors rushed to finish my education. During that time, The Rugen personally taught me about nixies in particular. 

"Diana" his words play in my mind. The day just a few weeks after I arrived in Zariera, The Rugen explained the gaping hole I had. The one that plagued my head. "Just like nixies, you…" the thought disperses before I'm able to recall more. A stinging static in my head stops me from thinking about it more, but I remember enough to know what he said. 

Diana, just like nixies, you are empty. 

At first, It felt interesting to have something in common with them. Nixies were the only subject that held my interest. My entire world revolves around interest. Curiosity. Surprise. That's what drives me. Because that is all I am capable of feeling.

 Just like nixies, I lack the emotional capacity to feel anything past interest, curiosity, surprise, and annoyance, filler emotions that substitute the complex ones that I'm supposed to feel. I'm an empty shell, and it annoys me. I'm an empty shell, that is, until I find something that will make it so I'm not.

In that lesson, The Rugen also explained to me what my ancestors had in common. The apathy, the blood, and the spark that changes both. In both my father's and ancestor's notes, they describe a life unaffected by normal human emotions, the lack of understanding they had with their peers emotionally, which I can relate to. They felt, technically. But they didn't feel as passionately as the people around them, which shunned them from other humans. Something I could relate to. 

That is, until they found what they described as their 'spark'.

The spark wasn't just a feeling, it was another being entirely, someone that would become an object of obsession, and duly, an emotional outlet. It was a being, where if in their proximity, someone of my bloodline would be able to feel the emotions they weren't able to before.

Until I find that spark, just like how they do, I'm stuck like this until I die. Nothing would be my end, just like those nightmares would constantly remind me of. I watch as Nixie lifts his head and removes his earbuds, the usual smile gracing his face. For some reason, this nixie has caught my attention. He interests me, more than anything else I've ever experienced, and the static seems to agree. The way he smiles, the sound of his voice, his eyes. The way he knows how I feel, probably more than anyone else in this room.

"Alright everyone, sorry that I'm late. Let's begin the assessment." a professor enters the room, making everyone sit upright in their seats. 

My eyes are still on the faery in front of me.

And I can't help but wonder if he's the one I'm looking for. My spark.