Ciaran woke up to the bitingly fresh air of a new day, he got dressed in joy thinking about all the cool stories he could hear today and then stood proud and ready before heading down for breakfast.
once Ciaran sat down at his chair he realised he should have went up to the attic and grabbed that funky piece of metal before coming to breakfast, realising it was too late Ciaran gobbled up his soup intent on enjoying the new day.
Ciaran's parents saw their child's joyous behaviour and found his childish antics cute until they saw their second child copy him and the cuteness was overpowered by silent concern, they could handle one Ciaran but a second was out of the question.
Ciaran quickly finished his plate and then looked over to his mother’s bowl to find that there was still ¾ of the soup left, a little dejected Ciaran was about to think about what to do in his time when his mother gave a light chuckle and beckoned him to come as she got ready to leave for the academy, seeing this Ciaran looked over to see her plate now empty. The now confused Ciaran happily obliged and followed his mother out the door taking his satchel from a servant on his way out.
on Ciaran’s way to the academy, he kept his eyes peeled for more of that funky metal with a different Aether, he looked at the bread shops, he looked at the paths he even looked at the people. Ciaran eventually did see a piece of metal with a different Aether however, Ciaran dismissed it as him seeing things as it was on the sword of a really scary looking mister. Ciaran arrived at the academy without any progress, but he didn’t feel bad because he had his mother behind him, who could ever feel bad with her nearby? Ciaran sadly had to depart with his mother at the door, he said his goodbyes and got a hug from his mother before heading in.
when Ciaran entered the classroom, he found there to be a few bookshelves filled with many different colours along the walls and seven tables with chairs spread around the room. Ciaran saw all of this and thought to himself that he was done with the stories and now they would be learning something cool, like magic… he was so utterly wrong it brought a strange pain in his heart whenever he thought about how wrong he was, it was handwriting practice, an entire day of writing letter. Every time someone talked or tried to take a shortcut Mr Luper would swiftly put an end to it, Ciaran did not know how, but that man’s orders could not be disobeyed, not even tears could escape his influence. When the bell for the first break tolled Ciaran decided to talk about his hobbies to escape from the fact he had to do more handwriting afterwards. Ciaran learned a lot about his friends, he mostly learnt that his friends don’t have hobbies and just help around the house or go out and play but he did find someone that he felt meshed immeasurably well with him. That person liked to relate things like Ciaran and even had access to a lot more sharp tool. That person’s name was caitiff he was a boy even though he had long hair and such a small stature compared to the rest of the boys in the class. Ciaran enjoyed his interactions with Caitiff and when the second break came around, he spent most of his time talking to him before being forced back to work once more.
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When class ended for the day Ciaran like most of the class ran from Mr Luper’s classroom before separating and heading towards his mother, there he voiced his complaints.
“You said we wouldn’t have to use our books until we were ready and could learn the important stuff.”
“no, no, no I said you would use them for notes when that time came, did you take any notes today.”
“no”
Ciaran responded in a dejected voice, he couldn’t blame his mother and even more so he couldn’t let her know that he lied, he didn’t use any books at all, it was all Mr Luper’s paper, now that Ciaran thought about it, how could Mr Luper fit so much paper in his pockets, are his clothes mostly pocket?
Before he knew it Ciaran’s mother had grabbed his hand and was leading him home. when Ciaran remembered to look for funky metal he was barely in the mood for it, but they soon passed a blacksmith’s shop, there he saw it, there was amongst all the other tools a few that had Aether unbefitting of their materials. Ciaran intent on figuring this mystery out himself decided to wait until he got home then form a plan.
Ciaran mulled over the events from the day while wandering the garden, he did this for two reasons, the first was because the flowers smelled nice, and the other was because he thought it made him look smarter and in turn made him smarter. Ciaran thought of many options, but none seemed to fit, he could escape and go see the blacksmith, but then what if he got caught or the blacksmith didn’t want to talk to him, he could go to the blacksmith on his way home but then his mother would find out, he wouldn’t be allowed to walk by himself until he was older. A servant soon came out and informed Ciaran that his father had returned home, hearing this Ciaran ventured into the main hall to see his father and complain about handwriting.
After Ciaran had annoyed his father sufficiently, he decided to head upstairs once more, not to create anything but to play. Ciaran pulled out a shabby box from a corner of the attic and then moved over to one of the few windows and emptied the contents of the box onto the floor. The box contained not toys or tools but a collection of different shaped woodchips and metal chunks, Ciaran then organised the pieces onto three areas, the largest of which had few metal chips and few small woodchips while the second largest held most of the metal chunks, the smallest had most of the small woodchips. Ciaran then started moving them and playing with them, he enjoyed thinking that they were ships and that he was orchestrating a grand battle between three factions two rival kingdoms and the measly pirates. Ciaran played until the light had set enough to ruin his fun, and thus he had to pack up and head down for dinner.