THRICE

1 -- Priorities

Tatiana wouldn't have been surprised by the young man's entrance, if not for the sphere of white energy hovering in his hand. Magic like that was priceless. No matter how much training any Termixian received, they could each only use three spells in their lifetime. And yet, he looked completely unfazed by his demonstration. The ball bounced playfully above his palm as he strode to the front of the magic lexicology classroom and waited for the teacher to acknowledge his presence.

The class's usual light chatter slowly died out as the students realized that the intruder was no school official. He wore a thick, hooded black cloak which obscured nearly everything about him, including the top half of his face, and as he shifted from one foot to the other, a large, ornate sword hanging in a reinforced leather loop at his hip glinted in the classroom's harsh light. Mrs. Harris finished writing the incantation for a color-changing spell on the board and turned to him, but didn't have time to speak before he stepped towards her, clearing his throat, and asked, "Is Tatiana here?"

Noticing the sword, the teacher responded bravely, "What business do you have asking that?"

The young man sighed and held up the visitor pass that he had gotten during his brief visit to the public high school's office. The secretary had been adequately cooperative once he had explained his reason for coming. "I need to talk to her privately," he told Mrs. Harris. His voice was strangely monotone, reminding Tatiana of the jocks in her magic visualization class who clearly had no interest in the subject.

Mrs. Harris's eyes shot between the ball of energy and the laminated card as he pocketed it again. The magic pulsated and spun wildly before disappearing without a trace, and he crossed his arms, staring the teacher down. She stared right back in bold defiance.

Tatiana squirmed, but stayed in her seat. Something about the young man in black didn't quite add up, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Despite her faith that he had good intentions, she had to wonder why he had used a spell, and why he was carrying such a magnificent sword. As she caught another glimpse of the red-tinged blade with a line of engraved symbols at its base, she made up her mind, focusing her attention on the future.

This was a skill that she'd had for as long as she could remember. She assumed it was magical in nature, but as magic was, of course, limited to three spells per person, she had always been too nervous to explain her ability to anyone. She had no desire to draw excess attention to herself when she was already so unnaturally talented in magical studies.

Many futures spread out before Tatiana's inner eye in a massive, spherical tree-like structure which she called the future delta. It seemed to permanently reside in her thoughts, always running in the background, and using it was as natural as taking control of her breathing. Whenever there was a possibility for alternate futures, which was practically every instant, the branches of the structure diverged.

Most of the potential futures she saw varied only slightly from one another as they split apart. However, one large diverging group of branches stood out to Tatiana. When Mrs. Harris backed away, the young man seemed to grow stern and reach for his sword. Since she could only see about six seconds of any future, that was as much as she could make out right away.

As a couple of seconds passed, however, the delta shifted and the number of branches leading to him taking out his sword increased drastically. Soon, so many branches led to similar futures where he attacked that it became clear there was no alternative. Tatiana hurriedly regained her focus on the present, just in time to see him begin to reach down. She sprang from her seat, wincing at the screech of her chair against the tile floor. "W- Wait!" she stuttered.

The eyes of the entire class burned into Tatiana's back, and the young man whirled around. She was stunned to find that he looked no older than she was, though he was much taller. "There you are," he said with a sickly-sweet smile. He put a hand on his hip and gestured for her to come forward with a tilt of his head. She could hardly summon the courage to refuse his request, and, cheeks flushed, she approached the boy. Her footsteps resounded in her ears.