HAVRING'S SCHOOL FOR THE GIFTED: Anomaly

Trials

The professor left the doctor's now chaotic office along with me, and accompanied me to the Head Dean's office. Barnden then left to prepare his classroom for tomorrow's lesson, and I entered the dean's office. A petite old man sat in a straight-backed chair facing the large window overlooking the school yard. Rain pelted the few students left in the courtyard, and dark clouds washed everything in black. Lightning struck some distance away, lighting up the dreary landscape like a flare. The frail figure of the man was suddenly illuminated by the bright flash. In order to get the old man's attention with-out startling him, I gave a small knock on the open door.

A deep, rich voice greeted me sooner than I expected. "Mikaylie, come and join me. I've been expecting you." I walked across the room and sunk down in leather chair next to the Dean's and stared out the window at the wild countryside of Southern Portvan.

"Hello Dean Vancin. I came to apologize for my disruption of orientation day. I truly am sorry. Professor Barnden asked me to demonstrate my powers, and then everyone started asking questions, so I panicked. Then I had..."

"Mikaylie, I know what happened and why you have come. I am a seer. I can see what I wish to, including the past and the future. You are no surprise to me." The old man looked up from a faded catalog, with only the title visible. He was quite handsome for someone his age, with salt and pepper hair, more salt visible than pepper, and ocean like eyes, rough and untamed, uncharacteristic to his calm demeanor. He started to speak again, his eyes becoming more like the ocean with every passing second. "Little know what I am about to share with you, Mikaylie. This is a closely guarded secret from my students, and I would prefer to keep it that way. You are not to tell anyone, and you shouldn't, because I will know the moment you speak of it. Understood?"

I nodded quietly. "Yes, sir."

"I too am an anomaly." The grave look on the old Dean's face told me he wasn't joking.

"But, Dean Vancin, that's not possible! The government would never have let you be the Head Dean as an anomaly! I'm barely even permitted as an anomaly, and I just wanted to be a normal supernatural." I tried to keep my voice quiet, but my shock overrode my rationality. My voice resonated through the walls, a soft, but powerful echo, and slowly faded until all was silent, except for a gentle humming. The kind old man looked at me with a sympathy, understanding all of my pain, my heartache, and the reality of my situation. As a seer, he had the rare ability to know everything about someone, no matter how convincingly they lied. He could see my miserable past, locked away in the dungeons of Portvan's wealthiest noble, Lord Cyrian. He saw my loving and kind parents, being forced to sell me to the wicked noble, directions from the King. Images had probably flooded his mind of my torture, the lashings, beatings, hard labor, and probing from the scientists. Lord Cyrian was constantly in the background, enjoying every moment of my pain. And then there were the most horrid, miserable, wicked, and painful memories, of the torture Cyrian inflicted upon me himself, the days I wanted to be dead, the days I would have preferred to be strapped to a table, needles and weird fluids running through my veins, screens all around the room, depicting my mutated DNA. Dean Vancin looked at me with more sympathy than I could have imagined possible, as if he had seen my wrecked and bitter past firsthand. My mind suddenly flashed with vague memories of an elderly man, crippled, with a dragon-headed cane and a forest green cloak, reaching his soft hand through the bars of my prison door, comforting me as I silently cried myself to sleep each night. A quick glance around the room told me all I needed to know.

"It...it...it was you." The words fell from my mouth, leaving my lips before I could even comprehend the entire reality of the situation.

He nodded. "Yes, Mikaylie, I was the one, so many years ago, down in Cyrian's dungeon, watching as you slowly wilted away. Oh, how it hurt me, to see such a bright, talented, and wishful little girl become cold, hardened, and filled with hate. Those many nights that I sat with you, I kept thinking of ways to free you from the dark, damp prison, to let you see the sun again, hear the birds singing, and smell the wonderful Silver Alders in full bloom. Alas, that was what I had hoped for, until one day, you disappeared. Gone, unnoticed. Lord Cyrian was quite angered at your disappearance, but I could tell he knew why you were gone. By the time I managed to pry the information from him, it was too late. You had already been erased from society. All those years you spent with Lord Cyrian, the people of your village mourned you, Mikaylie. They cried many nights at the loss of someone so young. But then, one day, you were forgotten. No more did parents tell their children the story of the anomaly, a sweet innocent girl, taken away from her family and village, imprisoned, bound to face endless torture. They no longer comforted your Mother and Father, as they grieved day in and day out for their little girl. You had been erased from their lives, their pasts, and their futures when young King Lewis came to power. He was the one that freed you from the torture, and erased the pain of your family's loss from the village. He despised his father for the torture you were faced to endure, and he took you from Lord Cyrian. Lewis took you, still a girl of nine, away from the endless suffering, and placed you into the care of his palace medics. For months, you were in a state of shock, as I have been told. You couldn't eat, sleep, or speak. When you finally came to, you lived in the medical labs for years, up until the very day you set out for Havring. You did not know King Lewis had saved you, you only knew him as the ruler of Portvan, the youngest Portvan has ever known, taking up the throne, at the tender age of eleven. After your fifteenth birthday, you became the spy for Lewis' court, courtesy of his advice. From then up until now, you have remained a secret from those, excluding your caretakers. At sixteen, you were made re-known to the world, a permitted anomaly, one in many generations of anomalies. The government told the truth, but not all of it. You are from a long line of anomalies, and the government has permitted many of your lineage. They did want to spare your parents and relatives more pain, rather than flooding them with more grief by exiling you. But what they didn't share was your real purpose, your value. Your abilities."

I couldn't talk, or think, or move. My mind was too overwhelmed, drowned with so many thoughts, feelings, and memories. I felt like I had in Professor Barnden's room, about to collapse from over exertion, but I realized I wasn't even using my powers. Dean Vancin had placed a hand on his cane, the same one I had seen many times in my previous years, and began to stand up. He looked at me as I began to crumple, and I realized what his other ability was. Physical and Mental Override.

I awoke in a dimly lit room, underneath layer upon layer of blankets. A humming sound filled the room, coming from an unknown location. Hushed voices could be heard through the wall next to me, though words could not be made out. I thought about using my manipulation to amplify the soundwaves, but I was tired of spying. Heaving the covers off of myself, I warily stood up from what I now recognized as a cot. Glancing around the dark room, I located kitchen, three closed doors, a couch in the same general area of the cot, and an open door, leading to a small bathroom. I walked around the main living space to stretch out the cramps from the physical override in my legs, continuing to analyze the room. It appeared to be one of the dorms adjacent to the school, much like the ones I had toured on a previous government mission at the academy. Finished stretching, I entered the bathroom and flicked on the lights. I almost screamed when I saw my disheveled appearance. My ginger hair was tangled and severely knotted, red splotches adorned my face, and my eyelids were halfway closed from sleeping. Turning on the water faucet, I rinsed my face to remove some of the splotchiness and wake myself up. There was nothing more I could do for my hair than run my fingers through it, somewhat combing out the mess of tangled red hairs. After slightly detangling my hair, I grabbed a rubber band from from around my wrist and quickly put my hair up into a messy bun. I left the bathroom and walked back through the living room where I had been asleep. I decided to let some light into the dorm, and opened up the blinds on the bay window, which I hadn't noticed until I left the bathroom. I still couldn't wrap my head around all the Dean had told me. As I stared out the window, I heard the far door creak open, and hulking, shadowy figure blocked all light .

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Long chapter, I know. But I hope you enjoyed it!!!! This chapter goes very in depth to Mikaylie's past,  which I enjoyed writing!! Please leave some suggestions in the comments for anything you would like to see!!!  Should I write more with King Lewis?? Mikaylie is sixteen right now, so Lewis would be eighteen. ( wish i ruled a kingdom at eighteen ;p)

Nerdy, signing off 🤓