Chapter 143
A snap of fingers right at my left ear drew me up-I was sucked into a vacuum, away from the bleak rainforest-from my dreams, into the slightly furious eyes of a blue eyed professor.
“Sleeping in class on your first day p>
A repeat of the sentence scrawled past his parched lips which informed me that his voice had been what had interrupted the dream.
I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful for that or not.
On one hand, I had been cut off from being plagued by those wraiths, and on the other hand, I wasn’t sure if I had learnt something new.
If p>
wait a minute!
I pushed my body up to sit upright on the chair, as I found out that I could remember the dream very clearly. Had this being the purpose for its repetition? For remembrance?
“Professor, I think a blast of magic on her cheeks would wake her up faster than a snap of your fingers p>
I knew that voice. Rachel. There were a few bouts of laughter at her suggestion.
“You think so, Rachel p>
When had she joined the class? Had she been in the meeting?
I shook my head to tell the professor that it was not necessary, or rather I tried, then gasped from the pain that went through my neck down my spine. The pain had followed me from the dreams to the physical. It was good then that the professor had woken me. I thought, when I tasted something metallic in my tongue, and my head swooned by itself.
“You must have slept in a difficult position. Although sleeping on your desk isn’t quite proper. Push your back further and rest on the chair.” The professor was speaking, and I listened, still shutting my eyes, when the pain hit my waist.
What the hell!
“You know you can open your eyes now. Are you ashamed p>
I wanted to shake my head, but remembering the earlier pain. I muttered a no. And then I opened my eyes.
The professor was right in my line of sight, amusement rather than anger coloring his features.
“Welcome back, Dora. Care to explain why you fell asleep in class whilst the lesson was going on p>
I inhaled deeply to dispel the disorientation that was clogging my mind. From afar off, I could still hear the scream of the first female, the one that had awakened me to my bleak surroundings.
A deep breath in. I am no longer there. I am in a magic school. I’m in class.
“I didn’t fall asleep whilst your class was going on, Professor. I think I will remember that. I had fallen asleep when there was no teacher in class p>
The old man, who should be in his late fifties or so, who stooped a bit whenever he walked and was glaringly bald gave me a small smile, then retreated to the front of the class. I didn’t understand what the smile meant, but it felt wrong.
I surveyed the classroom again, remembering my first impression of it. It was still making an impression.
When I had left Sinclair by the doorpost, and stepped into the class, I, immediately, had been struck by the sense of wonder and mystery that filled the air. The room was unlike any classroom I had ever seen before, with tall, arched windows that let in streams of golden sunlight, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the stone walls.
The windows themselves had seemed to be enchanted, with their panes adorned with sophisticated designs-there were even seemingly monsters and angels- that danced and shimmered in the sunlight. It was as if they were alive, watching over the room with an otherworldly gaze. It reminded me of the windows of a Catholic Church. Had never been in one, except in stories.
The walls of the classroom were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and magical artifacts. I had stored the information at the back of my head to ask around about it after classes.
There had been potions brewing in cauldrons right behind the classroom, inside a separate room that shared a common door with the classroom which had been open when I had first stepped in.
I dared a look behind now, the door was shut.
In one part of the classroom, actually under the blackboard-I will ask Sinclair the purpose later-there was a fireplace, its flames crackling and dancing merrily as if they were alive. Across it hung a portrait of a stern-looking wizard, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he surveyed the room.
The desks and chairs were arranged in a neat row, each one adorned with complicated yet interesting carvings and magical symbols. It had been clear from the start that this was no ordinary classroom, but a place of learning and discovery, where magic thrived and dreams came true.
When I had taken my seat, I hadn’t been able to help the feeling of excitement and anticipation, cloaked with a bit of nerves. This was my first time after all at a place where I would learn to harness the power of magic, to unlock the secrets of the universe and become a witch.
If I was one though. Maybe I could be powerful, not someone always left at the mercy of others.
Mr. Fekon, the mathematics teacher, had been a man that looked like a woman, that talked like a woman, with flowing white hair that almost touched his waist. When I had stepped into the room, there had been a hushed silence that a pin dropped to the floor could be heard perhaps miles away.
Mr Fekon was a tall, imposing figure, with long, flowing robes that billowed behind him like the wings of a majestic bird. I had wondered if all the professors or teachers wore long robes. If there was a time we would wear long robes.
I had been tempted to look into the other document which contained the list of the requirements I would need here, to check if the long robes were there too, but his eyes held me captive. Gray eyes ringed with dark brown. Eyes that sparkled with intelligence and wisdom. I had known then that I was in the presence of someone truly extraordinary.
’Who are you p>
His voice had been low and melodic, and I had known that I would enjoy his class.
’Dora Akwoods. New student p>
His gaze had burnt me over again, before he had gestured with his hand to join the others. There had been no welcome speech, or introductions from me. I had liked it. Had liked it when he continued teaching in that same tone of his, had liked it when I hadn’t seen Rachel and Raul in class, just some unfamiliar faces, which I knew I was familiar to. Had liked it when none had approached me after Mr Fekon had left the class without dropping an assignment, had liked it when the rumor had gone flying that we had a free period since the teachers were in some kind of meeting, had liked it when I had fallen asleep fitfully, with the knowledge that perhaps this was were I belonged. This content belongs to
“Ms Akwoods, could you answer the question p>
My head throbbed when the professor’s voice sliced through my thoughts. His voice and everything was opposite of Professor Fekon who hadn’t looked a year older than twenty five. I even think I might develop a crush on the latter if I allowed it.
“Ms Akwoods p>
I looked at the professor. There was a smirk on his face. I didn’t even know his name. Had he made an introduction? I don’t think so.
I looked at the board. History.
I snorted, out of hate for the subject, rather than the man teaching it or his question. He misunderstood it. Of course. There was the wrong smile on his face again.
“Was that for me? Ms Akwoods p>
“Not all, Professor. I’m just not a fan of history classes.” I said, indicating with my head at the seven lettered words that had been sprawled on the black board in a handwriting that was an excuse for a handwriting.
“Well, that’s not my business now. Is it? Answer the question. Do you even know the question p>
That small smile again. It was beginning to grate on my nerves. I knew that he knew that I wasn’t aware of the question, not to mention the answers. I knew he just wanted me to make a fool of myself. But why?
I didn’t dare look at my fellow students. Didn’t dare look at Rachel whom I could hear snickering a few feet away. Was Raul here yet? I didn’t want to check. My entire focus was on the professor, and on my next words which I knew might earn me my first punishment here.
“Well, that’s not my business is it?” A hush silence in class, and the transformation of the professor’s smile to a frown were the first warning I received, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Do you bully your new students? Is that a habit to you? Do you get off on it p>
I shrugged my shoulders. “That’s alright though. Everyone has their fetishes, but I refuse to be the object of yours. And please wipe off that smile on your face. It’s creepy p>