Avia Academy

🌊Chapter One: Failure and a Fall

They argue, often, about when the story began.

Claire, self-centered as she is, claims it began when she was ten, with the disappearance and supposed death of her older brother Keenan. And maybe that was what set her on her journey, what led her to this, but that wasn't really when the story—their story—began. And besides, that's three extra years worth of angst that no one wants to tell and frankly no one wants to hear about. So, for the sake of ease, we'll begin the story on the day their paths first crossed.

It was an absolutely ordinary day for everyone except thirteen-year-old Clarity Anika Sable. For her, it may very well have been the worst day of her life—and in her mind at the time, most certainly the last day of her life.

She stood center-stage in front of a panel of blue-eyed judges, in front of an auditorium of blue-eyed children, sweating and hissing and failing.

"Come on, come on!" She grit her teeth, her fingers shaking as she reached toward the little dish of water on the pedestal in front of her. In her mind she was screaming, begging the water to do as she commanded. This was her last chance to get into Avia, and she was going to fail.

If she was thinking clearly she would have paused, taken a breath, and tried again with gentler motions. Just like when she had practiced at home. The water listened then. 

But she wasn't thinking clearly. She was hardly thinking at all. She let her breath continue in ragged, hissing gasps of rage, let her body shake so bad that establishing a connection with the water was nearly impossible.

"Obey me!"

The water bubbled pathetically. A mocking laugh, at best.

And then one of the judges raised his hand. It was over.

Her arms fell limp at her sides. Claire maintains that she accepted her defeat with dignity, but it was only her stubborn pride that kept her from dropping to her knees, screaming and sobbing in front of the entire crowded auditorium.

"Clarity Sable of Bassa, third attempt at Admission. Failed." The judge spoke in a calm, disinterested voice. There had been hundreds of children standing in Claire's place that day. There would be hundreds after.

"A shame," a female judge noted with her overly glossed red lips curving into a frown. "Your eyes are quite bright."

"Like I don't know that," Claire seethed, still shaking. "I can do this. Give me another chance!"

Without waiting for the judges to respond, she raised her hands toward the glass again.

"Miss Sable-"

She ignored the judge and narrowed her eyes in concentration. They were bright. They had shined a brilliant deep blue since infancy. She was talented, she knew that. She would make them see that.

"Miss Sable!"

With a final cry she forced all the energy in her body into the tips of her fingers. The water in the glass rippled, boiled, then erupted in a violent burst of steam that shattered the glass.

There. That was something. That was power.

With a shout of pride, she turned to the judges. The six stuffy Avia Academy professors stared at her in silence. A few, like the man who'd pronounced her failure, looked annoyed. But as she looked closer at his eyes, she realized they were only a pale grey-blue. Clearly, he was jealous. The woman who'd commented on her eyes and the gray haired man at her side nodded and whispered between each other.

"Well?" Claire pressed.

"The test, Miss Sable, was to levitate a sphere of water at least six feet above the bowl for a minimum of sixty seconds," the jealous judge said.