The Prophecy of Destiny

1. Twinning For Detention

'Detention for the Ashwoods!'

One pair of eyes, weary of repetition, met two another, which blinked back with innocence. Miss Rosinah had been so tired of pointing the two out that she did not bother calling them by their first names.

The Ashwoods Miss Rosinah was referring to, were Kanselia and Marcus, a pair of old non-identical twins aged nine, who almost shared nothing in common. Kanselia had long, brown cascading hair, and pronounced facial features that made her look older than she was. On the other hand, with his frizzy hair and stubby build, Marcus resembled a mad scientist after an explosive experiment only he could be proud of.

However, they could be identified as twins for one point - Their unrivalled hatred for pretty much every subject, made them unique even by students' standards. Miss Rosinah's subject, History & Political Science, was an exception, however. The two loathed it more than math, their second-least favorite subject, and that tells something.

Who in their right minds will bother to learn about the past, especially when you have got math to mess up the present and make one regret life? History may explain why activists fought for democracy and the perils of dictatorship, but good luck trying to explain them to nine-year olds despising exams.

Like every sincere history-hater recorded in history, the two usually spent their time either playing tic-tac-toe or exploring their creativity. Whilst Kanselia spent most of her lectures sketching hair for the bald folks from the past out of sympathy, Marcus killed time by doodling cars with wobbly tires or just doze off. Today, it was the latter that landed them in soup.

Marcus was sketching a disproportionate stick figure, with a balloon head, and tiny stubs for limbs. Two triangles made up for eyes with dilated pupils. A haphazard crescent, intended to be a smile, filled the bottom half of a lopsided almond face. It tilted dangerously to its right as if her right eye were made of stone. In Marcus' rough pencil doodle, one couldn't tell if they weren't. For aesthetics, he drew two fangs on the corners of the figure's bottom lip, pointing upward.

Then, he paused to get his sister's attention, and when she glanced, quickly sketched a warthog, twice her stick-figure size, ramming into her rear. Kanselia smirked, but when she looked up at her teach was when she couldn't conceal it. She let out a high-pitched cackle, enough to instill the fear of Tartarus in any child under five, and ensured every set of eyes were locked on the two. If Miss Rosinah had, by the slimmest of hopes missed who'd laughed, she had a class full of witnesses to funnel out the suspects.

The twins frantically pleaded with their eyes, to those sat close to them to divert their gaze but they were now under their teacher's sight, who eyed them with frustration. She studied their faces cautiously as if they were some historic figures reborn and imprisoned in glass jars for everyone to see. Silence fell in the classroom, and hushed whispers broke out throughout, as Miss Rosinah flicked her wrist and absent-mindedly inspected them, seemingly examining her deep red nail polish. Then, she looked at the twins face. The two lowered their heads, but saw the sketch again and burst into uncontrollable giggles again. The drawing by itself was not funny, but Marcus's laughter was contagious enough to make even the teacher's lip curl into a smile.

And that, was how Kanselia found herself with her stupid brother, walking towards Mr. Wilson's cabin, for a time she had lost count of.

Now, Mr. Wilson Bester, their school's Battle Master, didn't teach them for battle training was a subject introduced to children aged eleven, but was familiar enough with them to share an occasional laugh or two.

'What are we supposed to do this time? Boy, we have given a run for Wilson sir's list of detentions', Marcus chirped, without a tinge of noticeable guilt. For a moment, Kanselia doubted whether he had done it on purpose to escape the class. From his nonchalant face, she couldn't tell.