The Academy

Archer stared out the grey, rainy window of the train, trying to sort out his emotions. Without a doubt, he was thrilled to finally be able to see the mysterious Academy, let alone be a student there. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling he'd left home with, the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Shaking his head, Archer turned around so as to face the person sitting across from him. Another boy, Archer's age perhaps, with messy hair the colour of caramel, and chocolate-filled irises. He had a sharp, angular face with high cheekbones and a glint in his eye Archer took to mean trouble. The boy was wearing the red-with-black-highlights Academy first-year uniform, and judging from his polished shoes and healthy glow, Archer guessed his family was respected and wealthy, despite looking as though he'd just rolled out of bed and wound up on the train, looking perfect. Suddenly, the boy twisted around and sat up from his position sprawled across the train seats and met Archer's eyes. With a side of his face now bared to Archer that hadn't been before, Archer could see a vicious scar stretching from his nose to his hairline. It cut over his left eye, leaving a disfigurement on his iris. The mark of a warrior. The boy was now eying Archer, a scrutinising look on his face. After a few minutes of this, the other boy stuck his hand out, a crooked grin lighting his face up.

"Hey man. The name's Ajax, but friends call me AJ."

Cautiously, Archer slid his hand into the boy's - AJ's - grip. It was firm, and Archer could feel his calluses scraping against AJ's. "I'm Archer", said Archer, and the two boys shook. Just at that moment, the train came to a shuddering stop and people began clambering out. The boys quickly grabbed their bags and hurried out the carriage doors.