White covered the ground and sucked dry the warmth of summer. The children walked to and fro with every breath sending clouds of white back to the sky. One of these children was of course, Ciaran, but with him were three others. It wasn’t the normal subject of his pestering, but instead his good friend, Caitiff.

Caitiff sped ahead but was reduced to waddling, the cold air scraping at his exposed face. chuckles burst out from behind the boy and a series of tuts came from the surrounding adults. Nevertheless, the boy didn’t feel shame, definitely cold, but the eyes of others didn’t faze him.

Eventually the gaggle arrived at the old wooden doors that had become much too mundane over the years. Ciaran was a bit special, but for the others school was already becoming a dull and senseless obstacle. They were sure that after the engravings that would change, but each day they sat in waiting was a day they spent in anticipation at an escape from the dreary and the bleak.

Ciaran didn’t understand their exasperated sighs, nor their disdain for learning. It didn’t matter though, the group functioned due to its lack of function and Ciaran knew he had something they didn’t. whenever things ever got dull (which they rarely did) he could just look to the aether. Today it was a blinding white, much like the winter before. But in that white he could imagine all sorts of fairies playing and dancing, even a snake slithering in the snow.

Focusing back to the mundane, not much of Ciaran found himself in class. There wasn’t much to note as his hands had carried on listening even as his mind wandered elsewhere. What surprised Ciaran the most was the bell that sounded right after he had started to understand what he had missed.

In their freedom Caitiff lifted their head slightly from being slumped on his desk. The boy then looked to Ciaran and the others before he reached a handout to the sky, and with a plea, he called out.

“Inspiration, so fleeting, so fleeting, whatever shall I do?”

Iris took the opportunity to smack Caitiff on the back of the head with a rolled-up book. The girl then looked down at the boy that was now clutching his head and sighed.

“don’t be so dramatic, ugh.”

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Iris was much too frustrated with the overreaction. In an effort to cease the theatrics, she had made them worse. Luckily hemlock was here to save the day by completely ignoring the both of them.

“So, Ciaran, where are you going to engrave your first circle?”

Such information was something the children were told again and again never to share. At the same level such information could decide a mages fate in battle. there were even opportunities for a mage to be exploited out of battle if another mage knew where they engraved their circles.

Despite the parents, teachers, and even random strangers best warnings, Ciaran’s cheery voice called out.

“oh, I think I’m going to go for one of my bones”

Hearing this Hemlock offered up his opinion.

“Sweet, I’m going for my muscles, probably somewhere in the leg. Actually, I’m a bit surprised you didn’t go for an organ.”

Before Ciaran could even get a word in, Irish chimed in.

“Yeah, me and Caitiff are going for the liver, why are you going for a bone? Organs are the fastest way to becoming a mid-level mage.”

Caitiff also spoke up, a little miffed that Iris spoke for him.

“I understand Hemy going for muscles since they are more well-rounded, but you are going to take forever to reach the next level if you go for the bones.”

Finally able to speak, Ciaran defended his choice.

“If I go for the bones then I will have plenty of room for Aether. I just really like the ability to do lots of stuff instead of being limited to a few options.”

The three were left grumbling, their chance at winning over the smart one failed.

Oh yeah, none of this information was supposed to be coming out of their lips, but let’s face it, there was no way to keep them quiet. Kids will be kids. Eventually however the conversation did still, and the kids were left with some of their details intact.

The absence of their chatter was not filled by another topic and instead the others just ended up fiddling with their hair, the desks and even the floor. The silence was misplaced, and the vibe was killed.

Despite the boy’s ability to just stare at the aether for entertainment he did not do so. instead Ciaran looked to the ceiling where his mind began a wild journey. With wide eyes the boy captured every speck and spot that was stuck to the structure. Eventually Ciaran began to wonder what a little wooden box was doing all the way up there.

Instead of pondering anything the boy was interrupted by a near constant sound. The light and slightly metallic sound was repeating far faster than any hammer.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

Ciaran reached his fingers to his ears; there he dug for whatever was making the racket. Despite his best efforts he felt not a single bug.

Ciaran moved his hand to his neck and began gently rubbing it. he didn’t know how to describe the incessant ticking in a way that didn’t seem like a joke. His only hope was to wait for Mr Luper to return, but then again he could try and ask his friends… but surely there wouldn’t be that much longer left to the break.