Oracle (Book I)

Volkorn & the Missing History

Making their way to Professor Earithean's lesson through the morning throng, Caprice asked, "How is your wound now?" It was beyond her how Bossa was up and about after receiving such a blow.

Bossa flexed her shoulders around, hunched them inward. She winced.

"Still a wound but healing quickly. I'll be healed completely by tomorrow."

"That's really something, Bossa." A wound like that would've killed or nearly killed the average witch, especially given the trepadora's deadly poison.

"You know why now." Drawing a deep breath, Bossa rushed on, "Caprice, I may not be what you thought I was but there's plenty of blood drinkers out there, vampire or otherwise. Not all of them...'suck without conscious', I think that's the saying. So...are you sure this doesn't change things between us?"

As they walked, Caprice briefly searched for what to say.

"This morning...you startled me. When we met and you hugged me I smelled flowers, sunshine, and blood. I thought it was strange, but I wasn't afraid. Not of you. So, no. The only thing that's changed is I do feel more curious about blood drinkers."

"Really?"

"Yes."

With a hesitant smile, Bossa said, "They might talk about us in magical creatures. I hear the Night Class practices drinking from other students as a class assignment. With their permission, of course...."

Bossa's mood dropped as they entered the schoolroom and took the same seats from yesterday. Thierry came in, waving at someone outside as he did.

"Morning, Thierry," Caprice said.

"Hey, Preece." He gave Bossa a glance. "Bossa." To which he received an unenthusiastic utterance as she made her quill float up and down with her finger.

At the front of the room, Professor Earithean waited until the bell chimed, waved the door shut with her wand, and began.

"Each day, the first half of your lesson is dedicated to studying the origin of magic. But we will not only study the origins of magic. We will also engage in its basic practical application—called casting." Earithean sent a stern look around at the class. "Well, what are you doing? The lesson has started. Write that down."

There was a scramble for book bags, quills, paper, and ink. Caprice took out the supplies she'd been granted by the giving pen and her book. It was a wonder to her what she should be doing should since she couldn't take notes.

Earithean passed her desk as the scratching of writing instruments filled the room. Her flowing, brightly embroidered robes billowed around the corner of Caprice's desk. As the trailing robes fell away, Caprice noticed a sheaf of parchment on top of the plain paper she had placed there.

Rounding back to the front of the room, Earithean continued, "Everything contributes a piece to our knowledge and understanding of magic's order and the depths of its mystery. There are many different laws that govern magic in our world. For every rule, there may be just as many exceptions..."

Caprice stared as words bled into the parchment as the professor spoke. She and Thierry glanced at each other and she knew she wasn't the only one who had gotten magical parchment from inside the curtain of the teacher's robes as she'd passed by. Still lecturing, Professor Earithean gave a small nod in their direction.

~

Nezzle met Caprice, Thierry, and Bossa in the hall after first lesson.

"What's your next lesson again, Preece?" Bossa asked.

"History."

"You coming, Bohs?" Nezzle asked.

Walking backwards down the hall, Bossa retreated.