Born from Fyre

Ch.3: Flame Theatrics

Ch.3: Flame Theatrics

My eyes shoot open, taking a large deep breath as if having been revived. Sweat soaks my clothes. "Gah. It's so hot." Dragging myself to my nightstand, barely on two feet.

With my groans of pain as I try to get ready, you'd think I was bedridden all over again. Six in the morning, the sight of the clock is making me sick.

With a knock, "Make sure you shower hun!" Mother calls from the other side of the door, shuffling back to her bed before I could answer. Rolling my eyes, I mouth, duhh, I know, to myself' in the mirror.

Finishing the morning essentials in a rushed panic, I get to my favorite part. It's customary on the first day to wear your family crest on your robes, small banner, eventful jewelry and guild names, that is until we receive our school uniforms, which is one-hundred percent of the time much uglier.

Jumping into my gray skort along with a auburn dress shirt which perfectly matched with a white-Auburn two tone caplet with my family crest on the back, a Royal broadsword with a Phoenix wrapped around it. "Humph!" A head nod of confidence in the mirror.

The moment took the feeling of nausea from me, which comes back full force with each step I take toward the bus stop.

"Good luck Lyra!" Mother and Amber say with a smile. However, my father stands there with a scowl on his face, arms crossed. Instinctively, I hide my glorified stick wand, hurrying my steps. The fresh air is doing me some good, and within seconds the silver bus reveals itself before me. The doors shoot open, stunned. Staring into the windows glassy eyed.

"We're late LyFyre! And we have one more stop to make!" The bus driver was screaming over the engine. She is robust and witch-like, similar to normie school drivers. So much is happening in a single moment, my movements sluggish, thoughts irrelevant. I turn to look up at my house, at the window I fell asleep under. I'm not even wanted here, Fathers' glare judging my magical prowess. making me feel uneasy. I'll make it without them. I trudge on, marching to the very back of the bus, plopping down and sliding low into the seat.

As we take off at Mach speeds, my house disappears in a blink of an eye. I sit alone, with my own improbable ideas of how the first day will go. Psyching myself out before we even reach school grounds. This massive armored ship of a bus is booming with talkative anxious mages using small harmless spells to show off.

"That's her!" A shriek dispels other conversations.

"No it's not, quit lying!" Turned a small lad in his seat, rearing up on his knees for a better look at my face. I began to slide further down in my seat, purposely hiding from the others.

"It totally is! You can't mistake a LyFyre!" The same girl laughs. A third boy who seems younger than the rest, and for sure a whole lot smaller walks up to my seat, his eyes narrow-slit and his thick black hair flipped over his eyes. His tiny hand pokes at my cheek a few times. "Yup. It's definitely her. Caramel skin, hair like fire. Just as wild at that," he confirms.

"Would you stop poking me!" I smack his hand away from me, and immediately start brushing my hair back. "Yes. I'm a LyFyre. What of it?" Jumping out of my seat.

"Well...Y- you're a great magician at our age. Can you show us a few things?" A small voice from a few seats ahead of me speaks first, not showing her face.

"Course I can! But not on the bus... I might accidentally take this whole thing down with one explosion!" I could hear the Oos and awes. Riding the wave of popularity might be easier than I thought. A smirk grows on my face.

"You're kinda like a hero to us. Saving the school and all!" A taller fellow towering over his seat from the very front.

"It was nothing." Flipping my hair to one side.