The Elixir

~Discussion

 The halls are dead-silent, other than the ghostly, skin-prickling breeze coming in from the shores of the Noxwrought Seas. This time of year, the wind is always so brittle and dry. It's her mother's least favorite time of the year. Xara usually likes the brisk wind, but tonight, with the recent events, it just feels unwelcome.

Headmistress Casktalon doesn't seem the least bit affected by the wind; actually, by the way she walks, it seems as though she doesn't even notice it. Her footsteps are clipped and quick, and Xara stumbles to keep in step with her.

In normal circumstances, she would be sweating with worry and anxiety, her mind eddying with possible reasons for why the headmistress is singling her out. But she's too drunk on elation to even care. A smile curves on her face as her mind wanders back to her beautiful familiar - and not for the first time. She came. She finally came. All this time, Xara had wanted a dragoni like her brothers, but never did she imagine her familiar would be a griffon. A near extinct beast.

Not that she's complaining. When she had crashed through the glass, Xara had known. Something in her mind had awakened, uncurled from wherever it had been hiding all her life. Her awareness of the griffon heightened, and she called to it. How she did it, Xara doesn't know. All she knows is that now, she has a familiar. A beautiful bird, majestic and fierce. She already has names in mind, but none of them seem to really fit.

Headmistress Casktalon banks right, and Xara nearly runs into the wall. The headmistress doesn't comment, merely arches a brow before continuing on. Xara's glad she doesn't bother to turn around, because her face looks like one of her mother's tomatoes.

Another breeze swoops in, lifting the hair from Xara's neck. It makes goose flesh surge across her skin. She opens her mouth to ask when they'll arrive at her office, but she shuts her mouth, thinking better of it. Something about the headmistress warns Xara against speaking out of place.

"You don't need to hold your tongue around me, Ms. Roffinnes," the headmistress calls back. Xara could trace a slight hint of amusement in her tone. "The question is written across your face."

Xara ducks her face slightly. "When will we get there?"

"Impatient to get back to your familiar?"

The mention of her griffon-her griffon- brings a giddy smile to her face.

"Something like that," replies Xara vaguely. When Derald had told her the little tidbit about how late familiars are a sign of immense power, she had thought he had been trying to make her feel better. But he had been correct.

"One word of advice, Ms. Roffinnes," says the headmistress as she pulls open a thick, rotting door for Xara, "I recommend not wearing your emotions so openly. With the kind of power you have, you must be adept at hiding away your true feelings."

The headmistress's voice is grave, and something in Xara's stomach somersaults. She's reminded of the tricks Cass likes to do on his dragoni, often to show off for the neighbor girls. She doesn't ask why; it seems like good advice.

Xara steps into the room, to be greeted by yet another door. The room is completely, utterly white. The door nearly blends into the wall, and she would've missed it if the bronze knob hadn't been there.

Headmistress Casktalon steps neatly around her, and splays her hand against a white keypad. Something pings somewhere, and then everything starts to melt away. The pallid walls begin to disintegrate. But instead of turning into rubble, the walls simply disappear. Xara and the headmistress are left standing in a beautiful office.

It's a circular room, two levels. There are books as far as she can see, on both floors; tombs thick and thin, leather and paperback, gold-font and no font. What she would give to have a library like this. There's a large desk in front of the domed window, giving a full view to Academy campus and the regions behind. The moon shines behind spun sugar clouds. It's a beautiful view.