City of Mages

Chapter 5: Quenti

"Where... do you want it?" The boy said, just as Quenti snapped, "What the hell does she do in here?"

He let out a small snort of laughter.

"You're rooming with Alara, right?"

"Or a tornado. I forget."

"I don't think she's ever had a roommate before, and she's been here longer than anyone else I know."

"I got as much," Quenti said. She gave a small huff and began shoving clothes and books aside in one of the corners with her feet, attempting to clear a spot large enough for a bed roll.

"My name's Ander."

"Quenti."

The young boy—Ander—was quiet for a few minutes as she cleared a space and motioned for him to put the roll down. Her eyes widened in surprise as he opened his arms and sent the roll into the corner with a gust of wind. It hit the wall with a small thud and landed slightly crooked.

"Impressive," Quenti said. "Unnecessary, but impressive."

The boy blushed slightly at this. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen and he was wearing a pale yellow tunic over cream trousers.

"Sorry. I try and practice as much as I can."

"So you're a wind mage?"

"Magite." His eyes widened slightly. "I still have six years until my terminal exams."

Right. All that stupid nonsense. Quenti looked the boy up and down. She never understood how the Haven could take children at such a young age.

"How long have you been at the Haven?"

"I was sent here about four years ago," he said. "You should have seen me before. My parents didn't know what to do with me."

Quenti saw the fond smile that crossed his face as he spoke. She felt her chest tighten slightly.

Brainwashed.

"I remember one morning when I got angry at my little sister and I accidentally sent her flying out the window. My mom didn't know whether to ground me or jump for joy. She sent for the Council the next morning to have me tested."

"Do you ever get to go home to visit your family?" Quenti asked, voice warm and mind already calculating how much movement there was of magites in and out of the Haven.

"Once we start going on missions, we get to spend some time at home, but not until we get our powers under control. Without control, we're a danger to our families and villages."

Yup. Brainwashed.

Quenti's jaw clenched and she kept silent, knowing she'd probably say something she'd regret if she did open her mouth. Ander's lips tightened slightly, and Quenti blinked, trying to wipe any telltale sign from her face. She'd usually spoken her mind, but even if she didn't, her face usually spoke for her.

The boy's shoulders suddenly shifted, and the tightness in his face melted away. "This is for you, too." He shrugged off the bag he was holding that Quenti hadn't noticed until now. "It's your uniform."

She took the offered bag and looked inside at the contents. A tunic, dark blue, pale trousers, and a long black woven piece of fabric.

"Blue for water. When we gradate, our aguayo," he motioned toward the black scarf, "is exchanged for the color of our powers. Mages wear the black tunics and the colored aguayo. You'll learn all about it in your basics class." Suddenly his face twisted in a look of bemusement. "At least all the littles learn it during their first classes."