Society of the Yellow Sun

Chapter One -- The World Goes On pt. 2

Lorcan stood in the school’s main hall, alone and still. His dark figure contrasted against the immaculate corridor. His parents had agreed, upon receiving the doc’s word, to let him return to school. He knew that class had started five to ten minutes ago, but wanted to take the time to walk the white halls and close his eyes. He wanted to do all that without people staring, too hypocritical to ask the questions boiling in their twisted minds. He didn’t want to be thrown in the noisy crowd of hundreds of students, each going their own way like termites in a smoky tunnel.

London was known to have the best secondary level school of the Union, and as such it was the biggest. The buildings comprising the school were aligned to form a rough ring. In its center, the tallest building, a cylindrical tower, served as the school’s administrative quarters. The first eight levels of the tower were classes for the London residential students.

While Lorcan meandered in the London corridor, getting accustomed to a world where he was now an outsider, his mind drifted back to the day they’d moved to London, how excited he’d been to live in the Union’s capital.

He stood on the sixth floor, where the last year of the secondary level students resided. Lorcan should have finished the second level along with his comrades the previous year, but his abduction had gotten in the way. He hadn’t been happy to start over the sixth and last year with students who were one year younger, but he’d kept quiet, knowing it was a decision in which he had no say.

Lorcan approached one of the walls where a gray box hung. It showcased the previous headmasters of the London Secondary Level School in a reflective frame. He took a long look at his partial reflection. His scar stared back at him as if it wanted to remind him that it was his fault for refusing the doctors’ offer to safely remove it. Not too bad, but it was a detail people couldn’t avoid staring at on first meetings.

Lorcan had been surprised by how much he liked watching them trying not to glare at it, or looking for something appropriate to say. He loved the awkwardness that followed when someone noticed his scar, and he often thought that such a feeling alone would cause him trouble if he mentioned it during one of his sessions with the doc.

“Who in the Prophets’ name do you think you are Mister, class started ages--” As she spoke--yelling would be more appropriate-- Miss Lafeuille, a tall and thin brunette in her late forties and LSLS headmistress, headed toward Lorcan. She recognized him before she could reach him, and both her tone and speed dropped to slow. Lorcan liked Miss Lafeuille. He liked the way she called every student by their last name, being formal whether she had something nice to say or not.

“Mister Falls, you should be in class.”

Lorcan smirked at the sweetness of her tone once she’d identified him. He could recognize it in its every form; he’d heard it as long as he could remember--being the emperor’s nephew and all. Miss Lafeuille had never shown any interest in his social position. Whenever she had something to say, she spoke her mind with the usual cold and dry tone. Now, however, she acted motherly and protective. Lorcan hated it. He didn’t want things to change. Not because of what had happened to him.

“I--I felt like being alone for some time.”

She nodded as if she understood, which was even more unnerving. “I’ll let this one go, Mister Falls,” Miss Lafeuille said on a tone of confidence, “but remember that the only thing you should feel like when you’re at school is study.”

At last, there she was. His lips stretched into a smile, but he erased it rapidly under the headmistress’s cold stare.

“Come on, time to move on now. You can tell Mister Lowe you were in my office.”

After that, she turned and vanished behind a corner. Lorcan was glad after all that she’d shown him a hint of compassion. He trailed in her steps, but instead of turning right where she’d gone, he took the left hall and headed to Lowe’s classroom.

Lowe and Lorcan didn’t see eye to eye. But since Lorcan was the best student of his class, the teacher had left him alone. Lorcan disliked Lowe because he used his elevated position as a teacher to intimidate students. He was mean when there was no need to be, and no matter how hard Lorcan tried, he simply couldn’t see the academic value of cruelty.

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