The Legacy of Ander

Chapter One: Boredom

Thunk.

Caspian groaned, scowling, sitting up at the desk as she rubbed her forehead. She had fallen asleep in the lecture hall again and managed to hit her head in the same spot for the third time this week. There was bound to be a bruise appearing soon; she could feel it.

"Caspian!"

The anxious, familiar voice whispered loudly from the desk in front of hers. There's no point in whispering if you're going to be that loud anyway, she thought, and we're the only ones in here! Everyone else is out in the courtyard for lunch. For once, Finny, use your head. It was not even that big of a deal; she was just frustrated that she embarrassed herself again.

There was a loud shuffling as Finny turned his chair to face hers. She decided to bury the annoyance and met the concerned gaze a few feet ahead.

"Caspian," Finny began again, "are you okay? That one sounded like it hurt!"

Finnegan Dell, though very bright, was not apt to reading people or responding appropriately. As logical as he was, he was quick to worry and had a nervous, yet kind, disposition; he always meant the best, but, more often than not, his intentions were misconstrued and he was thought of as nothing more than an foolishly optimistic mother hen. Or so thought Caspian.

"I'm fine, Finny, don't worry about it," she mumbled, standing up to only sit down on his desk a yard ahead. "We should leave for lunch soon. I'm wasting away."

Finny, now turned back to face Caspian, nodded. "I'll put the books back up. Did you find anything interesting or new?" He sighed, shaking his head as Caspian guiltily looked down. He continued, "That's a shame. I really didn't, so that's a hour wasted. I could've taken a nap," he raised his eyebrow at her, obviously poking fun, "So what did you dream of? Searching for a murderer in a mysterious case? A handsome young man coming to sweep you off your feet?" Laughing at himself, Finny stood to return the fruitless books to their shelves. Caspian, naturally, punched his arm as retaliation to the sarcasm. "No, you dork," she snickered, returning his insincerity, " I dreamt of a grand banquet spread out on a table a mile long, and it was all for me. I was about to dig in before I was mercilessly assaulted by the desk."

• • •

Reedbury was a countryside boarding school for the elite, posh, and snobbish, and Caspian and Finnegan stuck out like sore thumbs. The building itself was about three stories tall and built in the same style as the grandiose English estates in old 'manners' tales. All the wood inside, from the floors to the mantlepieces to the the desks, was the richest mahogany,  and everything was carved with utmost care and intricacy. In the grand hall, the ceiling was gracefully painted with golden flowers and cherubs that looked dopily upward as if to God. Even the girls' bedrooms had delicate floral murals and canopy beds, and every sitting room had a fireplace. Needless to say, Caspian hated every stiff and archaic detail.

The only reason she had not yet torched the place was not because she was not among the rich and affluent, but that she was there on grant and, more importantly, she was on behavioral probation. The local monastery had decided that some "fresh, country air" would be good for placating her hot temper, and she could not object. These were the monks that had raised her, taken her in after her parents had died, and Caspian owed it to them to obey. They had been nothing but kind to her, and she loved them each like a brother or a father.

Despite all her reasons to be grateful, however, she still hated the uniforms.