There is a whole world Azora has yet to discover. That is our world.
The times have changed, humans have changed and somewhere along the way, they forgot about the magical races, forcing them to go into hiding.
Azora comes from one of those hidden r...
Her words made sense. I was a part of the human world for a short time, but I already witnessed what she spoke of.
"It's not that hard for the hidden races to stay hidden," Opal wouldn't admit Ardea was right. "Take my former home as an example. Yes, people did wander off into our territory, but they never came close enough. Even if humans deny it, there is still magic in this world."
Opal was right about that.
"And those who enter certain forests?" she continued. "The ones that get lost and end up walking in circles? A little magic here, a little magic there and they can never find their way out!"
These were all interesting questions, but the question that was still preoccupying my mind, pushing aside all others, was How can I find out the truth about Ms. Cyan?
While I was pretending to read the book, I was thinking about the steps I might take to get to the truth. My previous experience taught me that there is no one I might speak to about the matter.
Well, that wasn't exactly accurate. If Professor Cyan indeed was an Aquantien, Mathias would know. But he didn't want to speak of it, and I didn't have neither means nor he courage to make him talk.
To distract myself, I went to the garden after classes to help Lissa plant salvias, hyacinths and lilies. It didn't do much good. Planting was a quiet task, leaving my mind free to wander.
Is our Professor an Aquantien? Is there any possibility that my assumptions might be true?
My friends noticed my pensiveness.
"Are you sick?" Opal asked me one evening. Apparently, she had been reading the answers to the questions Professor Jasper gave us for homework, but I failed to write a single one of them.
"I'm not sick," I said as I looked towards her. The homework sheet was lying on the desk in front of me, completely blank.
"What's wrong, then?"
"Nothing," I replied. "My mind just wandered off."
"You shouldn't have asked your father to send her that book," Nia stated. She too was in our room with her history homework. As it turned out, fairies liked to live in the moment, so any help with past events was more than welcome.
"How was she supposed to know it would preoccupy her like it did?" Opal asked. Then I got caught in the stare of her honey brown eyes when she said, "You think too much, Azora. I know you were aware of all the changes done to you, but seeing them so graphically must be overwhelming."
I felt gratitude for her misinterpretation of my behavior.
I tried to force myself to push the thoughts of Ms. Cyan aside. "You're probably right," I said with the best fake smile I could feign.
Although Ardea wasn't looking directly at me, I could tell that she cast me a glance that, I was almost certain of this, saw right through my smile. Still, she said nothing.
As hard as it sometimes was to focus in classes during that week, it proved to be nothing in comparison to Professor Cyan's class. Everything she said was just murmur to my ears. The reason for this was the decision to talk to her and maybe end my distraction.
The class ended and once again, I stayed behind.
"Don't wait for me," I told my friends. Although confused, they left with the other students.
"Professor Cyan," I tried to get her attention.
She was putting the books back on the shelf by the door. Hearing my voice made her turn towards me. "Yes?" she said.
"I would like to ask you something." I was nervously squeezing my fingers, not knowing what to do with my hands.
"All right. What is it?"
What is it?
Well, I think you might be an Aquantien and just wanted to hear whether it's the truth or not from your own mouth.
In my mind, answering her question was so easy, but when the time came to actually speak, all I could do was gape like a goldfish in a tank.
She put down the remaining books, adjusted the grey marbled scarf she wore wrapped around her neck all the way to her jaw line and gave me her full attention.
Say something! I commanded myself.
It didn't help.
Ms. Cyan crossed her arms. Dark green gloves matched the color of the long skirt she wore that day.
Speak! the voice of my thoughts commanded.
Professor Cyan was beginning to lose her patience. "Well," she prompted me.
"Um... I wanted to ask... if..." The words were coming out of me as if I learnt how to speak yesterday.
She lifted her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
Just say what you came here to say, that inner voice pleaded.
"I know you're an Aquantien," I bit my lip as the words escaped me.
No! That wasn't what I was supposed to say!
Professor Cyan covered her mouth with one hand and just stood there completely still, like she was frozen by my words.
I felt as if hours passed by although it couldn't have been more than a minute before she asked, "What did you say?"
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