Inheritor of Strength (Book one of Alfireán age)

And So It Begins

Alf stared out the window as the last of the sun sank beneath the horizon. He sighed then turned to Harold who sat in the waiting room's plush couch. "Do you really think a school uniform is necessary?"

Olivia pushed the door open and slipped into the room. "They're almost ready. Mister Weaver is just adding a few final touches."

"Excellent," Harold replied. "And to answer your question Alfonso, yes, I do. Much of what our students are wearing is not only impractical, it is also causing undue tension."

"I guess," Alf answered. He couldn't argue the impractical part. The puff sleeved, flowing blue gown, one of his female students had worn to combat practice that afternoon, was proof of that. But to be honest, Alf looked forward to seeing what crazy things his students were going to wear next. Watching someone try to mimic the royal attire of the Emperor often served as the highlight of his day. If they mandated a school uniform, that would all be gone.

"I think this uniform idea is wonderful," Olivia said. "It'll stop a lot of the ridiculous posturing the teachers have to deal with during classes. It will also cultivate a more orderly feeling in the entire school."

"But what about individuality?" Alf asked.

Olivia frowned at him. "They're here to learn Alf. Right now they're just lording over each other whose family has the most money or political power. We have to stop that, and this will help us take a step in that direction."

A knock sounded at the door.

Harold stood up, folded the paper he was reading, and set it on the couch. "Come in."

Mister Weaver, the tailor that had designed the clothes Alf currently wore, strolled into the room. Round spectacles perched on the edge of Mister Weaver's long nose and a silver goatee graced his narrow chin. "I'm pleased to announce," he said, "that my new masterpiece is a tour de force of style and practicality." He clapped his hands. "Come in lad."

Edging through the open door, the young dark-haired boy, who had been admitted into the school three days earlier, trudged in wearing the school's newly proposed uniform. Nose scrunched in distaste, his expression looked as if he'd bitten a lemon. Larth—as Alf recalled his name—was clearly displeased about being chosen for this task.

In spite of its reluctant wearer, the uniform immediately drew Alf's eyes, and to his surprise, he quite liked it. Far from the cookie cutter clothes he'd expected, the shorts, combined with the vest and short-sleeved shirt, had character.

Harold circled around Larth, examining the garment with a thoughtful eye. "Impressive, though I'm not sure about the height of the coat's collar or the hanging sash. Are there any spells weaved into it?"

"Yes," the tailor said. "For starters, there's five button gems. The two button cuffs on the short sleeves are fire and lightening, since I know how much teenagers adore them. They should help absorb any magical backlash from failed spells. Hopefully, it'll lessen the students' burns or wounds. The three button gems on the chest are water, earth, and wind. They're not highly refined so they aren't too expensive, but they will also help absorb damage if the children get carried away."

Harold rubbed his chin with his right hand, "Admirable forethought." He reached down and brushed his thumb along the fire gem disguised as a button on the lad's shoulder. "I sense other frequencies in the cloth itself?"

"There are, although they aren't self-sustaining, so the students will need to charge them every morning."

"You see," face glowing with pride, Mr. Weaver launched into a lengthy explanation, "the outer coat uses faint sound frequencies to vibrate the threads, making it stain resistant and self-cleaning. The undershirt-"