Around 30 minutes later

After finishing their meal, they still had roughly 30 minutes left in their lunch break. While an hour-long lunch break was unusual in some parts, the school’s longer-than-average schedules made up for the time lost, and lengthy breaks were believed to improve morale. Rachel had proposed the idea of exploring the halls before lunch officially ended. Naturally, there were no objections from Jack, and the other two displayed alacrity towards the proposal as well—both for their own reasons. So, the newly formed group set out to inspect the school’s intriguing architecture. They ascended a winding wooden staircase to the third floor, intending to reach the auditorium balcony and peer down at the large performing arts center below. As they made their way there, miscellaneous chatter ensued.

“By the way, I love your nails, El. Ever since I arrived, I've never seen anyone around Hoal with that type, and it’s a nice color too," Kana said, stepping off the last set of stairs onto the third floor.

Rachel outstretched her hand and looked down at her nails. She recalled the reason she had painted them in such a hue.

“Oh! Thank you! I got them like this because it was the same color as Jack’s eyes. I tried to convince him to get his painted green so we’d be matching, but he didn’t budge on it." Rachel shrugged, seemingly unbothered by her friend’s lack of cooperation.

“Whaaat?! No, he didn’t! I’ll tell you what: next time we should match instead. You get your nails a reddish brown, and I’ll get mine green,” Lafayette interjected, breaking away from the conversation he had been in with Jack. A wide smile was splayed across his face—one that would soon be broken.

“Are you a fucking homo?” asked Jack as Kana elbowed Lafayette from behind, pushing him forward to break his composure. She shook her head disappointedly.

“Don’t blame Jack for not being gay like you. And don’t listen to him, El. Match with me instead! A darker blue is way better than a reddish brown." Saying that last part made Kana cringe at herself.

Lafayette’s mahogany eye color suited Rachel’s hair more, but she wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that. Regardless, before Rachel could respond, Kana hooked her arm into hers, smiling with a face that showed she wasn’t willing to take "no" for an answer.

As Rachel struggled to voice her decision, she heard a thud nearby, prompting her to instinctively turn. “Watch where you’re going, stupid Rawshal,” said the boy that had bumped into Jack. Jack recognized him and the brown-haired girl that was next to him. They all shared the same homeroom. However, Jack's focus was drawn to what he had been called: "Rawshal." It was a derogatory term for those who had Raw Magic, as Raw Magic was an unorthodox genetic mutation. Anyone that possessed it was often looked down upon and stigmatized.

Jack wasn't angered, though; his placidness remained unperturbed. He was fully ready to let the whole situation go, but just as he was about to walk away, he heard Rachel pipe up from behind him.

“Hey! Don’t call him that! What gives you the right?!” she said, aggressively pointing at the incendiary. In response, the boy shoved Jack aside, his eyes narrowing on Rachel as his grip on the girl beside him loosened. “I’m sorry, I could have sworn a stupid bitch just interrupted me. Did I hear that right?” He exhaled in a gruff tone. With his head held high, he was tall enough to tower over Rachel. A chill ran up the red-haired girl's spine. She took a half-step back, and her eyes widened in fear as she pulled Kana closer.

The aggressor’s hands were concealed in his pockets, but the veins around his forearms were bulging conspicuously. A moment later, from his peripheral vision, he spotted a knee heading straight for his chin. When it connected, his head flew up, knocking him off balance. He awkwardly waddled backwards, falling into the wall of lockers behind. The thunderous sound of human muscle colliding with hollow metal echoed through the halls.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure I heard that too, except that same stupid bitch also interrupted a girl," Jack said, maintaining a piercing gaze as he lowered his leg.

“Tom!” exclaimed the brunette.

Tom ran his hand over his mouth, his eyes glaring as he regained his stature. With his mind guided by vindictive anger, Tom prepared to start a full-out fight with Jack.

Meanwhile, Lafayette sneaked over to the brunette, placing his arm around her shoulders and nonconsensually dragging her along. “Oh my god, girl, I love your hair.” He continued to push her—his eyes flirtatiously locked onto hers and his mouth confidently widened—until they reached the theater balcony, where he swiveled the knob to unlock the door. “Don’t worry, I know this place like the back of my hand. My mom used to take me here whenever she left for work... before I started attending school, at least. By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”

"Uhm—okay? I’m Daisy… But shouldn’t we be worried about what's going on back there?” The uncomfortable brunette ignored his irrelevant comments and quickly gave a look backwards before Lafayette gripped her shoulder, making her turn to face forward once again.

”Call me Lafayette, and you shouldn’t be so concerned. Trust me, they’ll hug it out soon enough. Oh! I know! You know what would complete your look right now? My jacket!” He took off his blazer-style jacket, draping it over the girl’s shoulders. It had an intricate yet flamboyant design consisting of an array of silver flame symbols. “Come on, put your arms through!”

Daisy reluctantly heeded his words, sliding the blazer inwards and looking out to the theater below as they walked out on the balcony. She had never been here before; it was indescribably breathtaking. The theater was three stories tall. The wood carving looked personal and handmade, and the polished stage and pillars that held the curtains whole looked fresh despite having been around for 23 years.

Her eyes sparkled, forgetting about the uncomfortable situation for a second, as Lafayette directed her to the corner of the balcony. He moved his arm across the horizon, showing the theater like he was trying to sell it. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lafayette's other hand furtively pulled the stage hook from where it was caught flush with the wall. He had been coming here since he was a child, watching every play to ever take place—yet, in that time, he had never seen the hook actually being used.

Lafayette slipped the hook onto his jacket's hanging loop, making sure to maintain his secrecy while upholding a pleasant smile. “Yes, it is. It really is.” Daisy nodded, leaning over the balcony to get a better view. Lafayette then swiveled around to face the two boys brawling near the open door behind them. “Jack! Tom! Check this out!” he shouted. The flurry of fists stopped momentarily. Jack and Tom diverted their attention to the eccentric theater kid, as did Daisy, who had snapped her head towards him, before she felt his hand push her off the ledge. The sky and ground swapped positions, and she fell head-first down to the hardwood floor three stories below.

“Daisy!” Tom exclaimed, manhandling Jack off himself as he broke into a sprint, firmly grabbing the railing before looking down. However, he was too late—or he would have been, had Lafayette not flicked the lever that stopped the hook’s rope from giving slack about halfway through, which meant Daisy was now dangling upright around the second floor. “Help! Help me, Tom!”

“Shit, dude. You’re stupidly insane!” Tom said.

"Oh, what the hell?” Jack muttered incredulously, having run after Tom.

“Lafayette! Wha-how-what?!” Rachel questioned, arriving with her arm still inextricably locked with Kana’s.

"Okay, I gotta give it to him. That’s a pretty cool way to stop a fight,” Kana added on.

Daisy gulped in fear. She could feel the jacket digging into her armpits and loosening, as if she was on the verge of dropping.

“Quit staring, you stupid dumbasses! We’ve got to pull her up!” commanded Tom.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“As much as I hate to agree, he’s right," replied Jack.

All eyes were laid on Lafayette, the one who apparently knew how this whole system worked. He sighed, shaking his head as he opened a small trap door that was usually nearly flush with the wall, right beside where he had gotten the hook from. There rested the rope that fed the hook.

“All right. If you want her back, get to pulling,” he said to the two. They both nodded, moving forward. They grabbed the rope tightly and tugged down, but it didn’t seem to move—not even to budge slightly—as if there was something locking it. Jack and Tom looked at Lafayette.

“Oh yeah,” he said dismissively, rolling his eyes as he released the lever. A shriek came from below. Daisy had fallen several more feet. The two boys finally managed to get a complete grasp over her after pulling the rope down again—one hand at a time—until she rose to the level of the balcony. Once there, the hook on the jacket Daisy was wearing was removed by Kana and tossed at Lafayette aggressively. “It may have been badass, but don’t do shit like that again,” she said, reprimanding his behavior. “Noted. I’ll do something more high-stakes next time,” Lafayette joked mischievously, wrapping himself with his coat and sauntering towards the open door of the balcony. Rachel fell to her knees with Daisy, placing a hand on her shoulder as she bombarded her with questions like, “Are you okay?” “Does it hurt anywhere?” “Do you feel faint?” and so on. The two boys also took a seat on the ground, huffing from their exertion.

“The bell’s about to ring,” Lafayette warned.

After leaving the theater balcony, they separated to get to their respective classes. Kana and Rachel went one way for art and orchestra, Jack and Lafayette went downstairs for gym and theater, and Daisy and Tom departed elsewhere.

“Who do you have for PE?" Lafayette inquired, walking downstairs alongside Jack, both feigning ignorance of Lafayette’s earlier stunt.

Jack glanced at his schedule. “Ms. Wanderbout. Weird ass last name, but apart from that, I'm not sure it’d be different from any other gym class."

“Vanderbout. It’s pronounced Vanderbout.”

“Huh? How did you know?”

“'Cause it’s my last name.”

“Oh! My gym teacher is your mom?!”

“The one and only.”

“Give me two weeks and you’ll have a new stepdad,” Jack said, smiling playfully as they reached a fork in the hallway.

“I’ll make you ‘fall over’ like I did to Daisy, but you won’t get the hook courtesy. Anyways, see you later, bro,” Lafayette said nonchalantly, holding his hand out for the second dap in one hour.

"See you,” Jack responded, welcoming the gesture with his own hand, and nodded before they both went their separate ways.

#

Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tugging the collar of her shirt. She felt trapped. She was in a setting she had despised since she was little—an orchestra classroom.

Rachel began to flashback to eight years prior, when a traveling bard had come to town. The bard’s music was rumored to be pleasant, and he played for an astonishingly cheap price, so her dad had agreed to let her go just once. Afterwards, Rachel was absolutely enamored with music. Her ensuing conversations would always involve a garrulous mention of it. It became so noxious that her father gave in and bought her a violin. At first, Rachel was thrilled. However, the wonder quickly wore off as the true hardships of playing such an instrument dawned on her, leaving her regretting having ever opened her mouth. She attempted to forsake the violin countless times, but her father was persistent. He insisted she was exceptional and that it helped her development. Rachel had surmised that he just didn’t want the money used to purchase the instrument to go to waste. Ever since, music has been a topic of trauma for her—even faint melodies could trigger harrowing memories.

Rachel crossed her legs, tuning out the speaking teacher before her. She slid an arm down to her lap and held her head up with her hand. The teacher then started going around asking which instrument they knew how to play or wanted to learn. Rachel wasn’t particularly attentive; her gaze was directed to the window to her left as her leg trembled with stress, and she was oblivious to the teacher's approach.

“And you?” the teacher asked, smiling softly. There was a pen in his fingers that tapped the clipboard he held in a predictable pattern.

“Huh?” Rachel asked, snapping back to reality.

“Instrument?” The teacher repeated, his voice laced with concern.

“Huh? Oh, right... Violin." The teacher scribbled on his clipboard and moved to the next student. Rachel sighed, zoning out again. “This class freaking stinks.”

Lafayette’s mother did not look like him—that was the first thing Jack noticed. She had straight, dark brown hair, almost dark enough to be black. Their skin tones also matched, but that was where the physical similarities ended. And while his priorities weren't as salacious as he had joked, that didn’t mean he wasn’t intrigued by their connection.

“Alright kids, time to run the track. For the first day: one mile!” The teacher’s cheerful announcement was followed by groans of annoyance that reverberated through the gymnasium.

Heading out to the track, Jack pushed through the hoard of students, overhearing their conversations in the process. His uninterested ears ignored most of the chit-chatter, but one line did catch his attention: “Fucking Rawshal, making us run day one, what a bitch." He recognized that word; the same slur had been used against him earlier. Based on its usage here, Jack guessed that the gym teacher had Raw Magic as well. “He has Fire Magic, and his mom has Raw Magic, so his dad must have Fire Magic too, then, right? Yeah, there’s no other way.”

It was reassuring to know that someone could relate to him. With new-found appreciation for his teacher, Jack would do the unthinkable and take the mile assignment seriously, running as hard as he could and making it within the allotted time frame easily.

After the midday electives, the students returned to Brewer’s class to be taught the core subjects. They finished the day with math, language, ancient elvish, and history all back to back. Brewer was nice enough the second time they had him, much less passionate or violent when it came to these subjects. The rest of the day dragged on until the sweet clangor of the bell finally rang, liberating the class from Brewer’s humdrum lectures.

“The ‘Ysh-’ root in Yshaulkadera means lizard at face value. With context, however, it’s often understood as a magical, large lizard,” Brewer would be saying before he was cut off by the bell. He sighed, going silent, aware that it would be meaningless to talk further.

The group reunited, walking down the halls together before they got out the doors of the school, where their paths split. “Bye Laffy! Bye Kana! Stay safe!” waved Rachel. From behind her, Jack also waved. “You too! Stay safe!” Kana and Lafayette responded as they left.

Rachel instantly slumped, succumbing to her weariness. “Ugh, first day of school, and I already want it to be over," she grumbled. The duo strolled back to the way they had come, seeing the small, compact, painted clay houses that were visually less glamorous now that they weren't gaping at them through the school's lofty windows.

Their enthusiasm had completely swapped: Rachel didn’t utter another word, keeping to herself for the rest of the walk. Jack did have something to say but kept quiet, not wanting to exacerbate her moment of brooding.

Finally, they reached the blacksmith’s house. The same, dusty smell of the abode that hung around in the morning still lingered in the afternoon. Jack was positive the miasma would stick around even if the place was demolished.

As Rachel stepped up to the door, she straightened herself, turning around and throwing her arms around Jack.

“Bye. Let’s meet again tomorrow, Jack,” she said, her voice muffled from her face pressing against his shoulder.

He returned her hug. “We always do, El. And cheer up. One bad class won’t ruin your year,” Jack said, pulling away and leaving Rachel startled by his correct assessment of her situation.

“Fine, I will.’ Rachel opened the door and stepped into the house. There was a familiar, unrelenting sound of metal being hammered coming from deeper inside. She took off her shoes, sighing as she walked through the desolate house to find her dad working with a sword on an anvil.

Before acknowledging her presence, he dipped the glowing, hot blade into a barrel of cold water to harden it.

“Hey, dad,” Rachel said casually, leaning against the side of the door frame. Her dad began removing his gloves and apron as he approached.

“Hey, El. How was school today, honey?” he inquired, wrapping his arms around her to squeeze her tightly.

“It was alright. They’re forcing me to play violin, but that aside, I made some friends.” She refrained from hugging back, waiting for his embrace to end.

"Great to hear. I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Maybe you’ll even come to like it again,” he said, moving to the forge, where the weapon was waiting. “I’ll be here a little longer to finish this order. Feel free to get a snack from the kitchen."

Rachel only nodded.

Jack had gone home after dropping Rachel off. As soon as he started to twist the knob, the door swung open to reveal his boisterous mother. He felt her grab the contour of his jaw, pulling him down to peck his cheek. “Jack! Hi honey! So… What was my little prince’s first day of magic school like?” she asked vivaciously, an expectant, wonderstruck gleam in her eyes.

Jack was too enervated to deal with her boundless quantities of energy. “I made some new friends,” he said, keeping the conversation short.

“I see, I see. How’s Rachel doing?”

“She’s fine, just a little bummed is all.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I give her my best wishes!”

She returned to the kitchen, where the soothing aroma of home-cooked food was permeating the air.

“Dinner’s almost ready, by the way!”

“Any Hawaiian Tusk this time?”

“Jack Royalis!!”

“—Just kidding, mom.”