Songbird

Three

After breakfast all the level zeroes were led by five women in to the White Hall, where all sorts of items sat on on tables that wound around the fountain. Many were tarnished or broken.

These weren't here before….

The Lady in Green was very pretty; she wore a fit gown that ran to her feet to compliment her sturdy hourglass figure. Her lips were as red as a rose, and her hair was a river of tangerine tumbling over her shoulders.

She cleared her throat to catch everyone's attention, and in a smooth voice she said, “Hello little sprouts, and welcome to Grindlewink. As you may have already noticed, we are no ordinary boarding school. Some of you might’ve anticipated this, as you have magical families. As for the rest of you, yes, magic exists,” she looked particularly at Sparrow and a grin caught the corner of her eye. “We will  be teaching you how to harness the magic in your blood and how to use it safely. Some of you may have had magical incidences before, and if you have you will be able to tell.” She held up her hands for the students to see; her fingers were green and shimmered in the morning light. They all looked at their hands. Some had coloured fingers, others didn't. Sparrow pulled off her gloves.

“So it's not a rash,” she whispered.

“Coloured fingertips shows that you have been through some sort of magical circumstance. It’s perfectly normal to have bare hands, and we don’t expect you to know any magic right now. Bare hands make you no less talented.” There were a couple sighs of relief, and Marie goffed.

But I’ve never done magic before…. Sparrow thought to herself.

The Lady in Yellow stepped forward. She was muscular, with intense dark eyes and beautifully tanned skin. “You may have also noticed that you are all separated by colour and if your fingertips are coloured, it matches your uniforms and your rooms. There are five kinds of magic; the magic of Song, rooted in the heart, magic of the Mind, rooted in the brain, magic of the Tools, rooted in the hands, magic of Movement, rooted in the feet, and the magic of Spirit, rooted in the Third Eye. We have sorted you into different classes based on which magic you have, which generally runs through genetics. Peony for Song magic, Aster for Mind magic, Hellebore for Tool magic, Daffodil for Movement magic, and Catmint for Spirit magic. No magic is more difficult to perform or is more important than the other.”

Marie goffed again.

The Lady in Purple spoke up. Her voice was low; they all had to quiet down to hear her. None of her was visible except for her mouth, which was coated in a shining layer of black lipstick. The rest of her was hidden under a lavender cloak held together with an amulet shaped like an eye. “You need to separate into your classes and meet with your headmistress. You’ll then be called up and you’ll choose your instrument. You don’t need your instrument to do magic, but it helps direct it rather than trying to pull from your raw power.”

Sparrow followed the rest of her class to the lady in pink, a plump woman with short, ashy gray hair. It was fluffy, and it hugged her face. She wore a bright sundress with a shawl and little sandals for her small feet. “Alexa,” she called. Her voice was thick and sweet like honey. A girl stepped forward and the lady in pink put her hand on her shoulder. “Just find something that speaks to you.”

She almost immediately picked up an old fountain pen; when she picked it up, it started to glow a vibrant pink. When it stopped glowing, it was shiny and new, with a golden nub and her initials, A.B. engraved in the side. Everyone clapped for her as she hopped back to the group. The lady in pink continued to call the rest of the students.

When Marie was done waiting she pushed everyone out of the way and walked up to the table. She chose a tarnished old tiara; when she put it on her head shined an expensive shade of gold. She turned around and smiled, as if waiting for applause, and when she received what she wanted she strutted back to the group, walking with her chest puffed out assertively.'

“Rue,” called the lady in pink. Rue, the girl from breakfast, silently got up to claim her instrument. She took a bracelet with jingling charms and slipped it over her wrist. This one glowed more than any other object, and Sparrow had to shade her eyes and squint just to see what was happening. Rue smiled proudly at her wrist and stumbled back to the group.

Sparrow was the last to claim her instrument. She stepped up to the table and looked over everything. There were all sorts of things, from mirrors to glasses to batons to teacups. Sparrow reached over the table of things, searching for whatever it was she needed to find. All of the sudden, her fingers started vibrating. Her hand was dragged across the table as if pulled by a magnet: a rusty little key clicked into her hand, which was vibrating so much that they began to feel numb.

An immense light shone vividly through her closed fingers.

It was so bright that it temporarily blinded her; when she regained her vision, she looked down to see a golden key. The gemstone that made up the handle gleamed in the light. She looked up to see the group, gaping back at her in wonder.

She smiled awkwardly, slipping the key into her pocket and rejoining the group.

They were free for the rest of the day to explore campus and to make new friends. Sparrow took Basil out into the fields where she sat braiding flower crowns from the wildflowers. The fields were wrapped with a thick forest, but they had been instructed to keep from entering, as it was restricted.

“Do you like it here?” Basil asked her as he preened.

“Well, it's nice and all, but I don’t really feel like I fit in,” she replied.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, first off, I’m not magical.”

“Sure you are! Look at your fingers! Also, you could find me.”

She looked up from her flower crown. “What?”

“Yeah, humans can only see us if we reveal ourselves to them. I was in hiding, and you still found me.”

Sparrow felt a hurricane of questions rising in her chest. “You knew?”

He ruffled his feathers. “You didn’t?”

“No,” she said, exasperated. “Wait, what about Mr. Kanta? He could see you.”

“How do you think his bread was so good? And the gloves?”

“I always thought he wore them for sanitary purposes.”

“Yes, but he never took them off. He uses Tool magic, which requires you to concentrate your power on your hands. His instrument is his rolling pin.”

How had she never noticed any of this before?

She thought about all the times she spent talking to Basil. People must’ve thought she was crazy, talking to herself all the time. “Did he know that I was magical?”

“He probably knew as soon as you told him about the faeries in the forest.” Her favourite thing to do was to play with the faeries, and she would sing to call them out to play.

That must’ve been my magical encounter!

“But I’m not a princess,” she pushed on.

Basil stopped preening and thought carefully about what to say next. “You might be,” he said. Sparrow smiled weakly.

“I doubt it,” she said.