Dark Heart, Bright Eyes |ONC 2024|

*6*

Zara sat in the back of the classroom, trying to make herself small and uninteresting. A skill she had honed to near-perfection over the years. She stared down at a blank sheet of paper, already trying to outline their first assignment.

While decently interesting, Familiars was turning into a class heavy with demand. Her professor had all but blasted through the syllabus, gave them two seconds to breathe and immediately dove into a lecture discussing how familiar contracts worked. The legalese had induced a temple-pounding headache that had yet to quit, even though Niki and Zara had gone to lunch immediately after.

Apparently, there were some things not even food and caffeine could fix. 

Zara put pen to paper, but instead of the beginning of a mock familiar contract, she found herself doodling. After a while, the doodle turned into a drawing of Miroku, her father's raven familiar. Homesickness swept over her, and Zara threw down her pen in disgust.

A loud thump made her flinch back in her seat, hand shooting to her hip as she looked over. A very pretty boy with long, ice-white hair tied back in a ponytail raised a pale eyebrow at her. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, voice laced with a soft accent she couldn't place.

Zara stared at him for a minute, trying to discern what flavor of monster he was. Slowly, she shook her head, tensing as he immediately flopped down into the seat beside her. Her hand hadn't left the soft leather, but she didn't reach any further.

He began winding a long stripe of hair around his finger, staring at Zara. She stared back, refusing to drop his gaze. No hint of weakness could be allowed. Then, he smiled, the severe angles of his face softening into something a little less...monstrous.

"You are the Morrigan," he said, gaze drifting to the left side of her face. To that unremarkable, mundane blue eye.

"I'm a Morrigan," she corrected, peering over his shoulder toward the door in the vain hope their Potions professor would come in right when she needed them to. "The Morrigan is my mother."

"Hmm," he hummed softly, unwinding the stripe of hair. He opened his mouth again, but was cut off by the sound of the door banging open. Everyone looked over to see a striking woman with blood-red lips and ice-white hair stride in to the room. 

The long-haired boy shrank into his seat as she stopped by their table, but her gaze skipped right over him to settle on Zara. "Miss Morrigan."

It wasn't said as a question, but Zara nodded, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. "Yes."

"Are you allowed in this class?"

Zara frowned. "Sorry?"

The woman--the professor--sighed. "Everyone in this room knows the heir to Family Morrigan is magicless. Can you compete in this class?"

Ah. Zara fought hard against a blush, forcing her face to stay calm and her body language unbothered. "I can read. I can measure. I can stir both clockwise and counterclockwise. I also have a fair voice. I can make a potion, Professor. I do not require anything other than your teaching."

The professor raised a pale brow. "Oh? And how will you do the simplest step of all?"

Zara stared blankly at her, wracking her brain. Simplest? Potions already were the simplest form of magic. One of two she could touch. One of two she could wrestle power away from. 

"How will you start your fire?" With that, the professor walked away, effectively letting Zara know she was on her own. 

The lecture began with a short preface on classroom expectations and that the professor--Professor Blanche--couldn't be brought to care about things like attendance. Either you cared to pass the class, or you didn't and it really wasn't her problem either way.

Then she flicked her hand at the board, words scrawling themselves across the dull green surface. "You have until the end of class. Grading will be based on appearance of potion and final outcome of intended effects. Points deduction will come from how many times you are forced to start from the beginning and if you manage to accidentally poison your seatmate."

The white-haired boy and Zara glanced at each other. He lifted a pale brow. "Are you sure you can brew a potion?"

Zara curled her lip at him. "Guess you'll find out one way or another."

Word Count: 718

Total: 5,098