The Voice and the Word

The Tayend School

Annabel found herself looking out over vast stretches of books as far as the eye could see, she found herself holding her breath as she watched the hundreds of young women wandering around and chatting to each other below her. They were so far away they looked like little dolls, stepping back from the low balcony she finally let her breath out in a great whoosh.

                “Annabel? Will you spend all day peering at the library or will you be joining us?” Annabel blushed and turned back to her lesson, she was a fairly tall girl, with a round face and full lips. Her rich hair was the colour of roasted chestnuts and her hazel eyes shone with a bright intelligence. The old woman sniffed and smacked a ruler onto her desk, Annabel blushed again and tried to focus, standing straighter and clasping her hands in front of her. The woman sniffed once more and began the lesson, talking about how precise measurements of the pentagram she had drawn on the floor. Within minutes Annabel had drifted away again, this time she found herself watching the motes of dust floating in a beam of sunlight.

                “Annabel, you will pay attention or I will have you removed from this class.” one of the other girls sniggered but Annabel didn’t dare look for who.

                “Yes miss.” she said in an effort to appease her tutor, it didn’t seem to work however.

                “See me at the end of this class Miss Riley.” Annabel let her shoulders fall slightly but didn’t argue, she struggled to remain focussed on the lesson till the end when she stood waiting for her instructor. While she waited Annabel struggled to remember the woman’s name, it escaped her and Annabel shifted uncomfortably as the woman cleared the space they had been working in.

                “Annabel you have an amazing gift when it comes to practical, yet you don’t apply yourself enough to the theory. Without the theory you have no practical. Do you understand?”

                “Yes miss.” Annabel said quietly, as if she were actually upset she was being reprimanded.

                “Even now you do not care about the fact I am berating you. I am not saying this for my own sake, you could be so brilliant if you tried.” the woman trailed off staring at Annabel who in turn stared at her feet, eventually the older woman sighed.

                “When you have gained the correct level of respect for magic then let me know Annabel, it’ll be the day the sun falls out of the sky. Now go.” Annabel, trainee sorceress, left without another word.

                Outside in the corridor she came across Tamsin, the blonde was examining her reflection in a polished mirror with several other girls. Annabel inclined her head to the overly dressed teenager who pouted back; Annabel had to stop a smirk from breaking through her impassive face at the other’s vanity. Even so she couldn’t help but readjust her hair slightly as she passed the mirror herself, she had to look her best she reasoned. Everywhere she went girls seemed to be in the process of tweaking their appearances as much as possible. News had got out amongst the students that an emissary from the Janeba Academy was bringing a few students with them for the sake of a learning opportunity, the greatest wonder however was that the Janeba Academy was for boys. Not one of the girls studying at Tayend, the school Annabel was studying in, had heard of male magic users. Whether they were sorcerers, wizards, warlocks or mages was unclear, all of it was irrelevant anyway, magic could only be accessed through one known method, and therefore the name they used was merely a label. Magic was used by defining your intention in an ancient language known as Myiffe-Klaran; the language was used to add purpose to the wild force that was magic, how it had originally been bound to the language nobody knew. The reason the girls were attempting to improve their appearances constantly, through spells and mundane matters; however, was that the one piece of crucial information about the arrival of the emissary’s party that hadn’t filtered into the student body was when they were arriving. Annabel herself couldn’t stop herself straightening her blouse and skirt as she passed the entrance hall, as much as straightening the white top and black pleated skirt that they all wore would make a difference. Annabel eventually reached her dorm room where she glanced left and right before uttering a single, unintelligible word. The door flashed red for a moment before swinging open, several of the children inside turned to face her as she stepped in the doorway.