The Mistyard Academy

Sorry to Miss Class (Not)

My friends and I are all looking and feeling like zombies at breakfast the morning after the attempted kidnapping. I can't seem to look up from my bowl of frosted flakes, just stirring the soggy cereal around, and around.

Brielle is staring into her cup of coffee like it holds the secrets of the universe and Lawrence poured creamer into his orange juice. Though actually, that might be because he was trying to act like he wasn't watching Reina out of the corner of his eye where she was almost asleep on his shoulder.

I'm seriously considering telling them they need to just get together already, but before I can make that terrible decision Maxim comes up to us and makes it for me.

"Aww, you two are so cute you should go on a date!"

Reina takes her head off of Lawrence's shoulder to frown at him and Lawrence looks like he's plotting murder.

"Oh, no we don't talk about the sexual tension," Brielle says like 'naughty, naughty' but she's smiling, "they don't know it's there yet."

"Shut up," Reina grumbles, smacking Brielle on the back of the head.

"Ow, I'm joking, there's no sexual tension at all I don't know what you're talking about Rachevsky."

"No I suppose you don't," Maxim doesn't look affronted at all, instead he turns towards me, "Alana told me to tell you that you're not supposed to run and also to put a bag over it when you shower. Basically, don't mess with your arm or the brace."

"Understood, don't do anything that can hurt the recovery," I agree.

"That's the hope, but between you and me –and our large audience of your friends- it's fine if you run just try not to let your arm bang against your side or anything. And also I have something for the pain if you have any," he holds up a little container filled with small blue pills and shakes it. "These should do the job, don't take more than two a day and you should be good."

"Thanks for letting me know and the for the medicine."

"You're very welcome, well, I gotta go now," and with that he flashes me a grin and walks back across the dining hall.

We eat the rest of our meal in the same silence as before, except this time Reina and Lawrence are sitting straight up, shoulder to shoulder. They seem to be feeling a bit self-conscious after the sexual tension comment, I don't blame them.

When we arrive in combat I hand my letter from Alana to Braims with what I hope is a regretful expression on my face even though I'm doing backflips and roundoffs in my head. He doesn't look too convinced in my regret (maybe he has a detector for mind flips) but takes the letter and points me towards a wooden chair and table in the corner.

Because I'm not participating today I have that a lot of time to take in the details I was too nervous to yesterday. The training room is a large gray room with wood paneled floors. In the corners and pretty much any free space are punching bags, gloves, weight machines and who knows what other torture devices. Despite what I had hoped yesterday there are no mats in the sparring area, just more hardwood floors.

I am so glad to not have to be fighting again today, I am so sore. Braims starts the class off with running a mile while holding a ten-pound weight in each hand. Because of my position in the corner on this chair –which by the way is extremely uncomfortable- I can see everyone and they can see me. I use this spectacular opportunity to make faces at Brielle as she runs her mile. Despite how much she hates this class, Brielle is really athletic, and I learned earlier plays soccer on the school team.

I've heard that apparently the academy has a lot of good sports teams, I wonder if they have a gymnastics program. I've been a gymnast since I was 3 and has been competing since I was 9 and really love it. I have so many memories of being at competitions with my mom and team cheering each other on before its your own heart pounding turn and you just knew you did well. The walls in my bedroom have a whole collection of 1st and 2nd place ribbons and well as two trophies from the state competitions. I was never going to make team USA or anything but I really love it and hope that I can keep doing gymnastics while I'm here.

Braims is just starting everyone on something that involves some sort of kicking with... apples? I honestly have no idea what is happening Braims is very strange. I decided that I should probably do something productive with the time I have for just sitting around, so triggering a vision it is. Hopefully I don't go into that weird state I did yesterday when I tried it.

I take a deep breath in and out and close my eyes, continuing to breathe deep and slowly. The fuzzy buzzing rises in my ears pounding through with no mercy, building in pressure like it wants to spill out, it gets tighter and tighter until my vision starts to lighten around the edges and the buzzing ceases.

I am in a room, one I vaguely recognize from the vision I had the other day in ability classes. Without the crowds of people filling up the space I can see clearly that it is shaped like a triangle and lit by industrial lighting that is hurting my eyes even in this vision. In the center there is a risen portion of the floor, maybe a foot higher and on it is a desk covered in papers. Three accamides are standing around it gesturing and yelling about something, one of them is the heavily tattooed man from yesterday, one is a skinny beanpole of a man with a turned up nose and beady eyes. The last person is a beautiful woman, her skin seems to glow in the harsh light and she has short hair curling softly around her face.

There is no sound as usual but the set of papers they seem to be debating about is clearly visible and I can see what looks like the plans for some sort of machine. It has large tentacle- like arms reaching out from a stout cyllindrical base studded with dials and buttons. There are many notes scribbled around the edges in a neat cursive, one in particular, written across the top catches my attention it reads "the extractor" I don't know what it means but just the name causes a chill down my spine. The extractor may be a mystery but something tells me I want to keep it that way and Not. Find. Out.

Ok, so I've gotten into a vision now how do I get back out? Do I pinch myself? I don't know but the problem gets solved for me when I am shaken awake by a very sweaty Brielle who is panting in my face.