Mace Perovay took a deep breath in and flipped the page to the next chapter of her life. She skimmed through Aethowix’s orientation pamphlet. It was very thematically appropriate and the author patted himself on the back.

She sat on the porch with her mother and waited for the coach. Mace could have walked to school, but her mother insisted that she wait with her. Something about wanting a traditional goodbye. She looked over at her mother. A few of her brilliant orange hair had whitened, but Mace would always see her as she did when first met her mom.

They sat quietly for a while while late summer waned around their townhouse. The Hickory-Perovay home was one of the few homes in the city that had a manicured garden. Ever since the New Gods left without a whisper, wild plants crept all over the city. Their experiments had made many of Munth’s natural flora stronger and more adaptable, and there were few place where they couldn’t grow. Even vast deserts that had once been barren grew coral-like forests, colorful and alien that they were. It was a constant battle against the elements, and the Hickory-Perovays could afford mercenaries in the war with nature. Their gardeners were off for the rest of the season, one of Yufizard’s many acts of generosity. And while Mace liked the look of the slightly untamed garden that grew in the gardeners’ absence, it did not agree with Mace’s allergies.

“So…is Yufe going to get here before or after the coach?'' asked Mace idly.

“Um..” said her mother. Mace was confused, was that a controversial question? “He already went ahead yesterday,” her mother tried to say apologetically. “He said he wanted to see you off but had some pre-class work to attend to. He figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh,” said Mace, and that was all she could say. Her uncle had become increasingly busier as she got older. Well that was no big deal right? He was made headmaster when she was thirteen. And while she did miss all the attention he gave her when she was small, she understood that cuteness wore off and adults took less interest. It was just a part of growing up.

The coach rolled up, and before Mace had time to process, the coachman was loading up her luggage. Mace’s stomach dropped, not in the freefall of sudden anxiety, but the slow amble of goodbye and an uncertain future. The world slowed down around Mace and her mother. They both knew it would happen, but neither was prepared. A slight twinge from the corner of Mace’s mouth, a hard swallow from her mother’s throat.

Time was relative, as most knew. What most didn’t know was that time sometimes moved around relatives. There are no words to describe the emotions of a mother whose newborn baby is leaving home. The moment was both too slow and too fast. All that could be exchanged were looks they hoped could say everything. Her mother started to tear up.

“You’re going to do so well!” her mom sobbed.

“Mom, if you’re going to cry I’m going to cry,” said Mace, already feeling her throat tightening.

The Perovays hugged and cried and wept and already started missing each other while the driver took his union guaranteed fifteen minute break, trying to ignore the wailing.

“I’ll see you at Winterkiss!” cried Mace.

“I’ll visit you on the weekends!” sobbed her mom.

The storm of mother-daughter emotions gradually wound down to less embarrassing trickle. Mace wiped her eyes and gave her mom a final kiss and hug.

The driver gave her a sidelong look and she sat down and rubbed at her red eyes.

“Sorry, just late summer allergies.”

Her mother waved until the coach turned a corner, and took her daughter out of sight. And something inside her told her that she would never see Mace the same again.

Mace’s coach waited in a line of coaches that circled the Aethowix’s palisade. She had first seen the school as a five year old, and each time was just as exciting and magical as the last. But now, the thought of actually attending had her stomach in knots.

Luckily, the line of coaches that dropped off students and luggage had slowed to a crawl, and butterflies in her stomach landed on the flowers of boredom. She felt numb. Like every worrying thought was playing in the back of her brain while the front was just staring off into space. She was in the state of mind so sought after by astral projectors but came naturally to the anxious. Reality was no longer real. This event wasn’t real. Was she real?

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She snapped out of it as her carriage pulled up. Reality gradually set back in place while her limbs struggled to catch up. Mace climbed out the carriage to a cacophony of excited new freshmen, crying parents, and overworked seniors. Upperclassmen were roped into carrying up the luggage under the promise of free food and a nearly minimum wage.

Again, Mace’s mind went numb. But instead of dissociating, it was grounded in the sights and sounds of everything. She had become a singular receptor for the universe that moved around her. The smell of late summer grass stains on the seniors’ boots, salty tears on a particularly emotional father’s face, greasy food wrappers littering coach floors. It was overwhelming. But her eye caught one thing to focus on.

Doctor Yufizard Hickory stood in the center of it all, directing staff and shaking parent’s hands warmly. Mace found her anchor. She dodged a precariously balanced luggage cart and shouted to get his attention.

“Mace!” she smiled, then frowned. “I’m so sorry about not carriage-pooling with you, it completely slipped my mind. I promise we’ll have a welcome dinner in my office tonight. Just you and me!”

She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. You were better off missing the waterworks anyway.”

“I see, I hope your mother didn’t have too much of a hard time letting you go.”

She shrugged. “Just the usual hugs, tears, kisses and such.”

He nodded, she nodded.

“Well if you can excuse me, I have a lot of new students to meet. It’s going to be a very interesting semester!” And he just walked off.

Mace was taken aback. She didn’t expect the conversation to end so awkwardly and abruptly. She and her uncle had barely spoken in the last few months, and that was their big reunion? Mace watched her talk to a dozen more families before she put the thought at the back of her mind. Now where was her dorm room?

The day ended faster than she imagined. She found her dorm, met her roommate, unpacked, and laid on her bed waiting for dinner. When Mace pictured her first day at Aethowix, she knew she shouldn’t have expected a tour or some grand welcome, but she thought there would at least be some commencement ceremony. So far, college wasn’t anything like the stories she read. There was no great feast, no sorting by personality type, not even some rich kid rival who would later turn into a love interest. If real life seldom reflected stories, then where did the tropes come from, she wondered.

When the dinner bell struck, and a sharp echoing sound that made her glasses tremble, she went to find her uncle’s office. Aethowix was mostly wood and flowery wallpaper instead of regal stone, so it took her a few wrong turns to find the huge double doors that lead to her uncle.

Mace gently pushed, then moderately pushed. Was it locked? She pushed hard. Her uncle was expecting her right? The door opened and she nearly fell into her uncle. He looked just as surprised as her, then he grimaced.

“Oh gods Mace I’m so sorry! My scatter brain completely forgot about dinner. You can join us if you want!” He gestured at the table in the middle of his office. Four surprised freshmen were staring at her.

“Everyone, this is my niece, Mace Perovay. Mace, this is everyone.”

They gave her awkward, half hearted hellos.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise we’ll have that dinner tomorrow night,” he murmured to Mace.

She just looked at the table confused. Seated was a dwarf girl with highlighted hair all over her body and three humans. A tall thin boy, a pretty dark skinned girl, and a slightly lighter girl with wide, innocent eyes. The last girl was in the midst of turning her arm into a cobra. A scion?

Scions were the product of New Gods. They had taken a generation of Pusher and messed with their bodies’ internal chemistry, giving them the ability to do so as well. When the New Gods left and their Naked Priests exiled, Scions took up the reigns of power. Who was going to stop them? Some could transform their hands into wolves or their feet into mushak legs. Not to mention a boost to strength and life expectancy. Wizards had long given up on trying to alter their own internal chemistry, too many genetic abnormalities. Scions took these abnormalities and turned them into weapons. Yes, a wizard could make a fireball, but it would flash and burn out in a moment. A dragon scion could sustain a torrent of flame long enough to vaporize bone. A wizard’s strength was in utility, not in raw power. A scion’s strength was in power…and utility if they were creative with the animal parts they grew. Initially, wizards thought it was very unfair, to which non-wizards rolled their eyes. ‘Oh no, a group who were lucky enough to be born with superpowers, what a nightmare!’ they said. Wizardkind just grumbled something about it ‘not being the same’.

There was something about this last girl that set Mace on edge. Something about here was…uncomfortably charming. She wasn’t extraordinarily stunning, but there was something about the way she looked and smiled at you with those big doe eyes. Mace always tried to look for the best in people, even if it was a small ember. But the best in this girl was a blinding sun.

Mace shook her head. “I’m pretty tired, so I can’t do tonight. But I will take you up on tomorrow night.” she smiled weakly at her uncle.

“Great!” he said. “Again, so sorry. I will clear my schedule for tomorrow night.”

He gave her a quick hug and a handshake. “Welcome to Aethowix Academy, Mace, he beamed. “We’re all very proud of you.”

The following night, Mace, fortunately, didn’t get her hopes up. Uncle Hickory apparently had an emergency meeting, and would have to reschedule for next week. Next week became sometime soon, sometime soon became Elderwine weekend, and Elderwine weekend became nothing. Mace had long dropped her plans for dinner. She suspected he dropped them long before her first day.