The Faeyrwynn Prophecy

The Faeyrwynn Prophecy: Chapter Two

    I made my way down the main road, mist swirling and dissipating as the sun rose. I shivered, more out of nervousness than the damp chill of the morning. I took a deep breath.

I could do this.

   How hard could it be? After all, I only had to do this for a year. People did this all the time, relax. I self-consciously arranged my hair so it covered my left eye.

   Since the accident, I learned that the glass had cut into my eye, discoloring it an odd mix of purple and blue. I was mostly blind in that eye, my left half of vision hazy and distorted.

   Ever since I was three, I had always seen random glimmers of things, never anything substantial enough to put a name to it. At first I thought I was only imagining things, but eventually I wrote it off as some weird side effect. I never mentioned it to anyone, for who would listen? I didn't want to be known as the crazy blind kid. You know, because blind kid was enough for me, I thought bitterly.

  People naturally avoided me at first, and I didn't blame them. Not to say I never had friends or anything, it just took folks a while to figure out that I wasn't deranged or antisocial.

   I slung my bag over my shoulder, following the trickle of students down the sidewalk and up an ornate drive. The fog finally cleared up, and I looked up uneasily at the grand building.

   Spread before me was an estate that looked like looked like a slightly smaller and more modern version of Hogwarts itself. I gaped, awestruck, as I took in the towers of stone and decorative windows. Trimmed hedges lined the brick drive, which had complicated designs and swirling colors inlaid into it. Students poured into what I assumed were the main doors.

   Being used to America's public school system, I was impressed, if not slightly intimidated.Mentally, I shook it off, walking determinedly into the school.

   The inside was just as impressive, if not more than, the outside of the building. Granite floors and cherry oak paneled walls as far as the eye could see, and matching spacious lockers lined the walls tastefully.

   I kept walking, trying not to look too lost. Thankfully, I came across an ornate wooden door labeled OFFICE in worn golden letters. Cautiously, I opened the door, stepping into a warm, cozy room lined with various stylish desks.

A matronly lady looked up from her computer, smiling kindly.

"And what are you in for today, young man?" she inquired, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses.

I cleared my throat.

   "I uh, just moved here a few weeks ago and I need my schedule?" The uncertainty in my voiced framed the sentence as a question, and I winced internally.

"Oh! Right, you must be Seth!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.

"Err... right, yeah, Seth Reyne...." I replied, feeling awkward and flashing my ID at her.

   She passed me a schedule and a map, along with a set of keys.

"For your hall and gym locker," she explained, smiling.

   I thanked her and left quickly, walking swiftly down the halls as I scanned the walls for my locker. After the third hallway, I found it and dumped most of my stuff into it, as the locker was quite spacious. A nice change from the tiny lockers back home, mind you.

   After twenty minutes of wandering around reluctantly, I found my homeroom class. Knocking timidly, I swept my hair to the left automatically. After a second the doors opened and I was ushered into the room by a male teacher who looked to be in his thirties. 

   "Ah, you must be Mr. Reyne!" he cried, clapping me on the back.

   I winced, not really from him, but more because every eye in the class was now trained on me.

"Why don't you tell us about yourself, then?" he continued enthusiastically. I groaned internally, and angled my body so that I was facing the class.

"Er... hello, I'm Seth..uh, I recently moved here from America..", I said quietly, willing myself not to stutter.

   Everyone stared curiously, and I could practically hear them judging me. Maybe I was being a tad paranoid, but I knew for sure their gazes were not friendly.

   After a few moments of awkward silence the teacher coughed, and began talking again in a weak attempt to mask both of our discomforts.

“Right from across the pond, isn't that exciting, class?”

...More deliberate silence...

I studied a crack in one of the wooden panels on the back wall.

“Okay then, I do believe I have a seat for you over there by the window...” he said, giving up and gesturing to a seat on the end of the third row.

   I sat down gratefully and began sketching on the cover of my notebook absentmindedly, as Mr. Edwards (the instructor) ran through the class syllabus.

   The bell sounded not too much later, and I hurriedly put my stuff away, glancing back at what I'd drawn. Etched into the glossy cardboard cover of my notebook were the symbols. Again.

   Odd that it still surprised me every time, even though I must have done it at least a million times by now. The problem was, I was never truly conscious when I drew them, my mind was always elsewhere and I could never remember after what I'd been thinking.

   Yet another thing I never mentioned, for fear of judgment or harsh criticism. The weirdest thing of all, though, was that each and every one of those markings were extremely familiar. As if I could almost understand them. They were drawn in different sizes and at different angles, but it was like the clusters of curved lines and dots were more than drawings.

   Focusing on the task at hand, I hurried off to my second period, ignoring the pointed stares and loud whispers directed at me. I passed a group on girls who were bouncing on their toes and talking excitedly, and I caught a few words as I walked by, pretending to ignore them.

“Cute, and definitely-”

“I know! But did you see his eye-?”

“Who cares?”

“Reckless Americans-”

   I rolled my eyes, slightly annoyed at how shallow they were all being. Some things never changed, even when you were halfway across the world. Sad.

Thankfully, though, my class wasn't too far away, and I slipped in just in time for the warning bell.

  As the rest of the day sped by, my notebook was positively plastered in multicolored symbols. No one approached me whatsoever, and kept a careful distance. It seemed like everyone had a theory or opinion and was eager to share it with whomever would listen.

Needless to say, my screwed up eye and I were a hot topic.

….Wonderful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This chapter is EXTREMELY rough, currently editing it. (4/4/12)

(8.8.12) Lightly edited again, added a few lines here and there and fixed a few grammar mishaps.