Magic is a blessing that we must not forget to be grateful for. It is an art that was discovered millennia ago. Generation after generation, we have uncovered different properties of how to perform magic. Its potential seems limitless, but the ability to cast magic must not fall into the wrong hands. I cannot begin to fathom what devastation someone can cause with our people's blessing.
Recovered Writing from the Cindered Archives by Whisperer Kindread – Unknown Author
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Gwynevere Grim stood outside the classroom, palms sweating, her knees weak. She was pretty famished; her mother's spaghetti would be good right now.
She was surprised she had only the very useful "resentful glares" and the ever-helpful suggestion of "Get out of my face." After maybe an hour, two? She had no idea. She was alone in the hallways, standing outside the classroom within Kaldere Academy.
Earlier that morning, the sun's rays were pouring through the gaping hole in her room. The window was still missing and though she was unaware of this fact.
She had overslept.
Her eyes opened, and a pale, round shape was in her blurred vision.
"Food!"
Gwyn shouted excitedly to an audience of one—a small loaf of bread.
She shot up and hurriedly devoured it. After the first bite...
Stale? Are you serious? Even in a world with magic, they still haven't solved something as simple as stale fucking bread?!
Despite these complaints, she finished the stale loaf.
"I hope that wasn't poisoned."
She then noticed that under the bread was a slip of paper. It read:
Take the opal coffin to Kaldere Academy. Your first lesson will be in a classroom labeled "Temptation". This is not a suggestion.
-Aldwyn DeMeteor
Dean of Kaldere Academy
Gwyn stared perplexedly at the letter.
What's a coffin?
Then Gwyn remembered the Head Whisperer's stupid explanation—
Those gem things. And Temptation? What kind of name for a class is that?
She then looked at the Dean's name and studied it.
Aldwyn DeMeteor. Why did that name look so familiar?
Gwyn wished to follow the instructions, if she understood what the hell they meant. She wandered lost in the Gilded Towers for nearly fifteen minutes. Passing Elise's room at some point, who was not present.
Eventually, she stumbled upon the Teleportation Sanctuary. The dragon's skull loomed above. It captivated her gaze every time she was in the massive chamber. When Gwyn stepped on one of the opal coffins, she found herself in another room similar to the Teleportation Sanctuary, but this area was far smaller and had much less grandeur.
After she teleported to Kaldere Academy, the small chamber led into a grand hall. Portraits of elves in luxurious attire encircled the massive room, which was filled with statues of various figures and artifacts displayed in glass cases.
On the other end of the room, Gwyn saw some sort of service desk with two elves standing behind it. Her hood covered most of her face so when she approached, the elves were initially friendly. Quickly the elves realized it was the new Chosen One, they immediately became cold and confrontational.
"How may I help?" turned into, "You can figure it out." Suddenly preoccupied with whatever was in front of them, unable to look at Gwyn. Ignoring her pleas for assistance or even giving her a scrap of direction.
She walked in circles for what felt like an hour. A single lap of one level of Kaldere Academy took Gwyn about ten minutes to walk. Reading all the names of different classrooms made it take even longer.
Anger, Hate, Lust, Envy, Greed, Resentment, Dislike.
The names continued in discontented emotions. Gwyn wondered what the purpose of naming classrooms this way was. Each classroom was different, ranging from massive auditoriums to windowless sheds. The space they filled seemed disproportionate to what the building could accommodate.
Alas, the rooms remained.
After being unable to find anything on the first floor, she moved to the second, where her emotions varied from contentment to admiration. The third floor was similar in that sense. Interesting, but still unsuccessful.
Bronze colored lockers lined the hallways, plants of various species sprouted from the ceiling, and candles floated ominously on their own. The hallway was bright, and candles seemed to emit far more light than they looked capable of.
When Gwyn approached the candles, they all seemed to float a little faster, as if trying to escape her, which was playful and exciting.
When she reached the fourth floor, the names began to appear much closer to the meaning of her note.
Joy, Happy, Ecstatic, Elated, Wonder, Euphoria, Serenity, Love, Temptation.
"Temptation!"
Gwyn shouted, relief swelling within her. The Chosen One's voice echoed off the empty halls.
She took a deep breath and stood outside the classroom, her stomach growled, but tried to ignore it.
"It's only the first day, surely, it can't be that bad."
Gwyn opened the door and was overwhelmed by the aroma of baked goods like fresh bread. Her mouth started to water. The walls were a pastel pink, blue, and green, which was a surprise given the earth-colored hallway.
A woman in a long purple dress tapped a wooden stick to her leg.
"Glad to see our Chosen One is punctual. And here I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."
Gwyn fully opened the door now and looked at the classroom. It was as if she had mistakenly walked into a bakery. The teacher appeared young and beautiful. She had ghost-white hair in a tight bun, and her eyes conveyed kindness, but her tone illustrated otherwise.
Is every elf just so… flawless?
When Gwyn fully entered the classroom, her expression changed from nervousness to pure perplexity.
Children. About thirty of them.
They sat in desks that appeared to be built of different baked goods. Baguettes for legs. Chocolate cake as the desk's surface, for example. Each one portrayed a different baked good. All seemed custom-made.
Gwyn started to back away.
"I'm sorry, I think I'm in the wrong class."
Stupid. Why would I go into a classroom filled with children?Maybe I misread the note.
"No, no." The teacher walked over to Gwyn and pulled her in front of the class. "Class. Say 'hello' to our new Chosen One."
Gwyn noticed she said "Chosen One" with a sarcastic flair.
Every child stood from their delicious-looking desks, yet none said a word. They were all about the height of fourth graders. You could hear a pin drop—a sea of blank faces in a mock bakery.
"Her name is Gwynevere Grim." The teacher turned from the class to Gwyn. "And I am Mrs. Farcroft."
A meek "Hello" left Gwyn's lips as she stood in front of everyone.
Mrs. Farcroft pointed to an empty seat in the back of the classroom.
"Go on, sit beside Griffith, Child."
Gwyn nodded, feeling humiliated by this situation.
Why would they put me in this class?
She got in her seat, which was comically too small for her. Her legs stuck out under the chair of the child in front of her. She accidentally kicked their desk, and you would've thought she murdered their dog. Gwyn scooted the desk back, and it made a loud screech on the floor. Everyone turned and laughed at the disruption.
Mrs. Farcroft's eyebrow twitched and cleared her throat.
"Now, class. I know we were supposed to learn about the creatures of Keceo this week, but with the arrival of our Chosen One, we have to adjust our lessons, if only for a little bit."
The entire class groaned and one child shouted.
"I want to keep learning about the animals!"
Another child accused, pointing directly at Gwyn.
"Yeah, why do we have to change what we're learning because of her!?"
Being shot in the head would be preferable over being in this classroom right now.
"Settle down, everyone." The angry murmurs eventually fell silent. "We will temporarily be switching what we will be teaching in class; today will be about magic."
One kid whined, continuing the uproar.
"But I want to learn about animals!"
"Don't worry, what we have planned for tomorrow will not be interrupted by our visitor."
"Yay! She won't ruin everything!"
"Yeah! She'll just ruin everything else!"
The Children applauded as Gwyn buried herself further in her desk.
A whisper beside her got Gwyn's attention as she tried to smile through the embarrassment.
"Are you really the Chosen One?"