The Chosen

My blood thumped at my temples. I knew it was irrational, but I never felt more scared in my entire life. Not from the mention of my attackers that would eventually come for me and my power, or from the disconnect I had with my parents when I was twelve, or even when I personally read the prophecy of the Godrich clan and what it instilled in me. Never before this. Who was Nicholas Christopher? Why hadn’t I ever heard of this boy before? My mind sped, analyzing every moment I ever shared with the boy – from when I arrived to this school to the events that passed between us today. Nothing had ever seemed odd or unique about him. My mind would’ve picked up on that the first time I laid eyes on him. He most likely came from old, passed down magic like most of the students they had here. So why then would he have this effect on me?

I mentally paused to relieve myself of the pent-up emotions that were racing through my body. I needed to clear myself of hasty thoughts, as always. What I needed to do was get down to the bottom of this little mystery and find out who Nicholas Christopher really is, and what it is he had just inflicted on me.

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It was midday, and I had managed to deduce a couple things about this Mr. Christopher from a healthy dose of persuasion of Mrs. Patris, the keeper of all student information: He came from Greek magic – his mother being an oracle since she had been born, his real name is Nicolas Cristovano, this was his seventh year at the boarding school, and his best class was the one I had made a heated pursuit out of this morning. I had better background knowledge on the boy, but it would take a peek into his mind to really find out what his secret was.

I stepped outside into the courtyard that had been sprouting lovely tulips and green shrubs in the late September weather we’ve been having. If I wanted to fully concentrate – this would be the best place to do it. I closed my eyes and let the world drift away with an intent purpose.

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Lunch time. Just the thing I needed to relax after a very confusing to the start of the day. The cuisine today was fettuccini alfredo – a big hit with the majority of teenagers that stayed here. I was sitting at my usual table with my best friend, Danny Ross. He and his sister Emilee had arrived at the school a year or so after I did. They came from Britain – Liverpool, to be exact – and their family was known in their ties to pagan religions. He and Emilee were the only people I had and could trust in this place.

“Danny,” Emilee nudged her brother, “isn’t that the Sadie girl you talked to me about the other day?” She gestured to the short, pixie-looking red-head that had lithely slid in to sit near her group of friends.

He grinned his usual crooked smile, and swept his dirty blond hair back off his forehead. “That’d be the lass, sis. I’m bloody set on takin’ her to Solstice with me.”

The solstice ball. He’d be talking about the winter solstice ball our school held every year. The only purely social event anyone in this school ever looked forward to. We had a consul of students that would make it their priority to uphold the yearly tradition – and Emilee had been a part of it for as long as I can remember. Why’d she’d get involved in such a tedious, unimportant celebration I had no clue.

Danny clapped me on the shoulder. “Are you willing to find a lass to go with me, Nick?”

“That’d be a no, I think.” I chewed briefly.

“Aye, that’s all I hear from you. How about that Céline everyone’s been jabberin’ about today?”

So he had heard the latest news. I scratched the back of my neck, thinking of a way to explain it to him. “She and I didn’t have the best interaction today.”

He nodded, not surprised. The fool was always knee-deep in gossip – I swear it purposefully came from Emi. “What I’d be likin’ to know is what in the world did you do to make her so bloody mad?”

I’d like to know that one myself.