You know that quote pasted on old t-shirts or collages above headboards. "Every family has one weird relative. If you don't know who it is, then it's probably you."
Well, Emoriah always thought she was the weird relative. The odd one out. From the many judging looks she received from her mother's side of the family she learned not to entertain conversations with them.
Or in some cases to even make eye contact. But this was different. This was someone like her. A dragon Lorde. An uncle that might actually like her. The whole concept was completely surreal.
She glanced at the scruffy beard covering his face and the grey hair sticking out from his hairline. To the many crinkles around his eyes and corners of his mouth likely made from smiling a whole ton. He seemed like the caring type.
She felt her lips curl in a smile. "Uncle, sorry for the interruption. I was directed to start school today, by Lorde Hirah."
Her uncle scratched his furry chin and his expression lit up. "Ahh, Headmaster took care of it then. Well!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Looks like we have new student boys! She is to be treated the same as any other boy in this school. Is she to be mistreated in any way you will have a talk with me. She is your future ruler after all." He said, winking in her direction.
Most boys at that returned to their seats. Benches covered the room giving plenty of sitting space, for a hundred or so young men.
The youngest possible boy in this room had to be thirteen to the oldest nineteen. Kaede who was standing next to her uncle stared down on her with a distasteful expression. Like he just ate and swallowed an insect whole.
She hoped he choked on it.
She decided to take a seat in the back on an empty bench in the far corner. Just then the door opened with a crash and a boy with blonde hair and pale blue eyes fell in.
Laughter erupted around the room before Emoriah's uncle hushed them and went on with his lecture of good behavior.
The boy got up quickly his face turning bright pink, before shuffling with his head down, to sit next to Emoriah.
"You're a girl." Emoriah turned her head to see the boy next to her flabbergasted. "Yes, I'm aware."
"No, I mean what are you doing?" The boy said, leaning to her ear. "Girls aren't allowed in here."
Emoriah rolled her eyes.
This sexist thing was getting on her nerves. Girls are just as strong and intelligent, as men. The fact that they don't comprehend that here, is bollocks! Maybe that's what she had to fix!
To bring women and girls into this school. Into Equality!
She shifted back in her seat a determined expression upon her face.
Yes, she will fix this!
"Miss?" She turned her head to see the boy looking at her questionably.
Right! He asked her a question.
"Yes. Right. Well, I'm Emoriah." She said, giving her hand out for a shake.
The boy stared at it for a second before grasping it. He shook it once, before letting it go looking at her hand as if it were a snake.
"You didn't answer my question."
She sighed. She might as well just get this over with.
"I'm Princess Emoriah."
The word 'princess' felt foreign on her tongue as she spoke it.
"So that makes me a dragon Lorde as well."
The boy's eyebrows raised up in disbelief and disappeared behind his sandy blonde hair that fell over his forehead in a mess. "Oh, pardon me, princess, I didn't mean to be rude."
Emoriah smiled at him, liking him by the minute. He seemed sincere and real. Nothing like the rest of the irritating boys in this room.
Her uncle coughed pivoting her attention back towards the front. Emoriah's uncle gestured to four men beside him. "These men are your trainers, mentors, and protectors for this next year. You will treat them with respect and appreciation. Let me Introduce Professor Wyn."
The man next to Emoriah's uncle stepped forward. He was cloaked by an old grey cloth. His beard the same color blended with his cloak and spilled down the front in a bushy mess.
On his crooked nose rest a pair of circular spectacles hiding his sparkling blue eyes. He nodded once then stepped back into the line with the others.
"He is to be your history teacher." Emoriah's uncle said, then introduced the other three in the same manner.
Next was Professor Mabon, who instructed dragon riding. Then there was Professor Lucan, who taught the skills, and technique for a battle. Lastly Professor Loefwin, the instructor for elemental gifts.
"You will all be separated by your years. First years with Professor Lucan. Second Years with Professor Wyn."
Emoriah zoned out the rest of her Uncle's speech, as she studied Professor Lucan. The man looked young, probably in his late thirties. He was dark from the summer contrasting with his bright blonde hair.
There was also something about him that didn't scream Valen. She traveled her eyes up and stopped at his ears. They curved slender against his hair wrapping up to a sharp pointy edge.
Emoriah almost gasped at her realization.
He was a Fae.
His features were very similar to Shay's with high curved eyebrows and bright emerald green eyes.
They also had the indistinguishable slender faces and long blonde hair that glowed in the sun. And of course, the ears. You can't forget about the ears.
But why was he a teacher here?
She detached herself from the bench slowly, then made her way over to the growing group of first years. There were about twenty-five boys including her that awaited upon Professor Lucan, as he had a brief chat with Emoriah's uncle.
Emoriah watched as they both looked in her direction before Professor Lucan nodded his head sharply. Finalizing whatever conversation, they were having.
..
As they made their way into the field of grass behind the school Emoriah noticed a familiar group ahead of her. As the fresh warm breeze tangled with her nose, and she felt the baring sunburn upon her head she remembered they were the group she followed earlier.
Mr. Habla Mucho the nickname Emoriah decided to give the leader of their group made his way over to her.
"So, your Mrs. Royalty huh? Pretty scrawny." The menace said as he examined her. "What are you ten?" His gang behind him laughed at the joke.
They're high pitched squeals sounding much like a pack of hyenas. Emoriah remembered how she used to cower back in London from her bullying. How she still could feel the pain and humiliation burn in her stomach.
She realized since she fell through the portal she had gained more courage and spirit than she ever had in the past fifteen years of living. It's like there was always something missing. A missing puzzle piece and she finally found it. She found a home.
Emoriah looked Mr. Habla Mucho in his eyes and calmed the fiery anger that burned in her blood.
It would do her no good if she were to fight him. She was better than that.
"Gee thanks I actually put this dress on to look just that!" Emoriah said, graciously. "But maybe you should check your own age. I mean who comes up to a defenseless girl with his squad of hyenas to pick on me? To me, it sounds like you're just too scared to do it alone." Emoriah said, realizing she may have gone farther than intended.
Mr. Habla Mucho raised his eyebrows and stood silent for a moment. Probably surprised that a red-headed little girl mocked him back.
"I'm not scared. And I'll prove it to you. This is after all a battle of the arts class." Mr. Habla Mucho said leaning down to her ear.
"You'll see. I'll get you back." The cold breath from his lips sent a shiver down her spine.
Not the good shivers either.
Oh, bollocks! What did she get herself into this time?
..
Professor Lucan had his class warm up their muscles with a couple of-of jogging laps in the field. Emoriah didn't know how unfit she was in till she finished the last lap minutes behind everyone else.
The jostling shook her legs and she could feel the annoyance from her dragons, as they were shaken around in their dens. The boys around her wore black shorts and a black shirt simple yet very practical when running for a mile.
The dress she wore was covered in sweat and clung to her like a second skin. She was a bit clumsy naturally but add in a long dress and little dips in the field. Well, let's just say, the ground and she became quick close friends.
As she fell for the thirty-second time she vowed that she would get her hands on a pair of pants.
They could glare at her all they want. But there was no way she was running in a dress again.
When she finished the last lap she put her hands on her legs, to draw in haggard breaths of humid air into her lungs. She squeezed her eyelids close as the burn from her throat and stomach gradually went down.
She opened her eyes after the pain drained away to see all the boys standing around her in a circle.
"Rule for my class is last person running has to fight a volunteer." Emoriah turned her head to see Professor Lucan standing beside her studying her.
"Who volunteers?" He shouts, looking among the group surrounding them.
The events finally hit her, and she stands up shakily.
She couldn't fight! She didn't even know how to punch, never the less how to hold a weapon!
A lone hand raises from the back. The crowd shifts letting the person through. The boy appears from the crowd a smirk emanating from his face, as he stood there six feet of solid muscle, Mr. Habla Mucho.
She groans inwardly. Well, I'm dead.
The boys around them spread out giving them room for a fight.
Ok, don't freak out. Don't freak out. You're going to be fine.
Just then Professor Lucan returned with two gleaming swords the sharpened edges shining under the sun. Fear pulsed in her veins.
She was not fine.
She backed to the edge and tried to leave the circle but a boy behind her pushed her forward again. She fell to her knees from the force and fluttered her frightened eyes between the Professor and the evil-smiling menace.
The Professor threw a sword at each of them, causing a gasp to fly from Emoriah's mouth. The sword was heavy, so very heavy.
How was she supposed to lift this thing?
She set her quivering jaw and stood up slowly. Mr. Habla Mucho gave her no time to think before he came at her in a run. Her arms moved before she could blink and blocked his sword from stabbing her in the gut.
A new force took over her, as she blocked his swings a couple more times. She didn't know how she was doing it. She felt as if she took a coffee break and turned her body to autopilot.
Mr. Habla Mucho was surprised as well at her pathetic but functional attempts of defending herself. Her hands shook, as their blades crashed together. The vibrations traveled down her arms leaving them aching in pain.
Once Mr. Habla Mucho saw how tired she already was. He started to parry and attack her at a rapid speed that she couldn't keep up with. Sweat dripped down her forehead, as black spots danced in her eyes. She was so tired.
Encouragements shot through her head from Asita, as she thought of throwing down her blade and quitting. She tripped over her dress and fell on her butt. A sharp pain went up to her back and she groaned. Mr. Habla Mucho took this chance to knock the sword out of her hand sending it flying away from her.
But that didn't stop him, nor did the yelling from Professor Lucan, as he swung his sword again at her. Emoriah could barely move out of the way as it came down on her. Slicing into her sweaty, warm flesh.
She cried in pain and fell back her arm spilling thick warm blood, as it dripped down her hand like rainfall. The grass turned red below her, as her blood sprinkled it. She felt her dragons move from their pockets, as their little bodies tightened in fury.
No words left Emoriah's dry lips, as she felt her dragons jump from their pockets surprising everyone. She watched in a trance-like state, as they flew towards with their leather wings outstretched and sharp teeth bared.
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till next time:)