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Misfits

Nick fell in line with the rest of the orphans. He felt his impatience climb as they were

let into the hall one by one. When it was his turn, an usher asked him what his skill

was. He replied it was putting holes in people’s bodies. The usher led him down to

a table away from anyone else.

His table gradually filled with children he didn’t know. None of the other orphans

were seated at his table. He was tempted to just move to where Carol was sitting. He

could see her at least.

“What’s the problem, bud?,” asked dark haired older boy. He had a cigarette in his

mouth and lit it with a candle lighting up the table. A couple of burn scars rolled up

the back of his hand.

“I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be separated from the people I know,

and this place stinks,” said Nick. He thought about how that sounded and flinched

at the whiningness of his comment. “Any chance I can get out of this dump and

head home?”

“Doubt it,” said the smoker. He grinned around his cigarette, blowing out a cloud of

blue smoke. Some of the kids around him choked and pushed out of the cloud.

“The teachers want you to learn something for their trouble. Breaking out means

going over the wall, and if you flew in like most of us, then your home is days away.

You might as well sit and bear it.”

“The goon is right,” said a girl with a tattooed arm. She leaned away from the

smoke. “Do you have to smoke? Some of us don’t like it.”

“It allows me to use my fire magic,” said the smoker. He gestured with the cigarette.

“I need a source to do my thing.”

“I doubt you are going to have to throw a fireball at dinner,” pointed out the girl.

“I heard the turkey is tougher than leather,” said the smoker.

“All of you want to stay here?,” asked Nick. He looked the table over.

“None of us have anywhere else to go,” said the girl. “So keep your crying to

yourself.”

She grabbed the cigarette out of the smoker’s mouth and put it out in the palm of her

tattooed hand.

“Light another one, and it goes in your eye,” said the girl. “Let’s eat in silence

and good air. When we get our rooms, then you can do whatever.”

“You’re not in charge,” said Nick. He winced because it made him sound like a little

kid.

“What’s your magic?,” asked the girl. She leaned back with crossed arms.

“I punch holes through things,” said Nick. He could feel his hand charging up

in anger.

“I punch holes in buildings like this one,” said the girl. “Can you do that?”

“I don’t think so,” said Nick.

“Then sit down and shut up,” said the girl. “Let the rest of us take it easy before

we have to start figuring out what we have to do to get through this. If the two of you

want to go over the wall, that’s fine with me. Please do it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?,” said the smoker. He puffed another cigarette to life and inhaled

the blue smoke. “I can wait that long.”

A teacher came by. She wore the robe of the academic with gray hair pulled back

in a severe bun. She held out a hand for the cigarette. The smoker looked at her, then

handed her the cigarette.

“No smoking in the buildings,” said the teacher. “You should know better than this.”

“Just got here,” said the smoker.

“For future reference, you can only smoke in your rooms,” said the teacher. She

snapped her finger and the tobacco and paper went up in a small fireball.

“I need my cigarettes to work my magic,” said the smoker.

“When you need your magic, you may smoke,” said the teacher. “But we are at

dinner, and about to undergo orientation, so you don’t need your magic.”

“I think you are just trying to hold me down,” said the smoker.

“I just hate cigarette smokers,” said the teacher. “Do better so you don’t need them.”

She walked on, heading for another table of rabble rousers who needed to be calmed

down.

“Do better,” said the smoker in a poor imitation of a voice and hand held up like

a puppet working its mouth. “I hate cigarettes so you can’t have one. Do better.”

Nick sat back, letting the charge dissipate in his hand. Maybe he was letting his

dislike of the place influence his thinking. He certainly didn’t like any of the teachers

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he had met so far.

“If you can do fire magic, why are you sitting with the seven of us?,” said one

of the other boys at the table. He had a naturally sad face with eyebrows hooked

up like question marks. He sat opposite of the smoker.

“What do you mean?,” asked the smoker.

“I would have thought you would be placed with the normal fire students,” said

the hound dog. He indicated the tables where Carol and the other firestarters sat with

a pointing finger.

“I need a source to use the magic,” said the smoker. He acted like he wanted to

lean back, but the benches at the tables had no backs to keep him in place. “So

I carry the flame in my cigarettes. What you in for, Smiley?”

“I can’t seem to learn spells normally,” said Smiley. He shrugged. “When the

Academy swept through, I was picked up with the rest of the talented.”

“I think we are all like that,” said Nick. He noted dashes appearing at the edge of his

sphere of influence. “My one trick isn’t trainable so I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time the Academy tried to train people who didn’t fit the

mold,” said the smoker.

“The people back home say that the last battle with the Warlord happened here,” said

a girl with white hair. One of her eyes was lighter than the other. “Said the

headmaster put him down out in the streets.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” said the smoker.

“What does that have to do with us?,” asked Nick.

“They say he’s been trying to come back and find his heart of power,” said the girl.

“They think that if any word reached him the heart was here, he would do whatever

he could to seize it.”

“I suppose that means killing everyone here,” said the tattoo girl.

“At least most of the teachers who might get in his way,” said the smoker. “Tomorrow

I will definitely look for a way I can get over the wall and away from here.”

“We can fight the warlord,” said Nick. He looked around at the other tables. No one

seemed to have heard him. “We can stop him once and for all.”

“Do you think your one spell will do that?,” asked Smiley.

“I don’t see why it won’t,” said Nick.

“What about going home?,” asked the tattoo girl. She waved her hands in the air at

the pivot.

“If I can kill the Warlord, I can go home and live off the story for the rest of my life,”

said Nick. “The reward itself would be enough to build a better village.”

“I think you will be burned to a cinder,” said the smoker.

“I think my blast will do the job if I can get close enough,” said Nick. He looked

around at his new colleagues. “Who wants to kill the Warlord with me?”

“We’re not here to kill the Warlord,” said the tattoo girl. “We’re here to stay out of

the way and let our more gifted relatives learn enough to kill the Warlord. If a

fireblast is all you got, you’ll get killed in the first exchange of power.”

“So we should hunker down and wait until we have to do something?,” asked Nick.

“Do you really think the teachers will be able to handle the Warlord and all of his

followers if he invades this place?,” asked the tattoo girl. “You know better than that.

We might have to put up some kind of defense to protect the kids too weak to do

anything.”

“You’ll get to punch a lot of holes in heads if that happens,” said the smoker.

“I guess I can go along to get along,” said Nick. “My name’s Nick.”

“Will,” said the smoker.

“Calliope Rose,” said the tattoo girl.

“Steve,” said Smiley. He did smile then, and it changed his whole face. “I have never

been in a secret circle before.”

“You’re still not,” said the white haired girl. “I’m Crow.”

“I’m Calvin,” said one of the boys left at the table. He looked enough like the other

boy to be related. “This is Felix.”

“We’re water wizards,” said Felix.

“What’s the drawback on your magic?,” asked Will.

“What drawbacks?,” asked Calvin. “Our magic is perfect in every way.”

“You are at the misfit table,” said Calliope. “Don’t tell us you got misplaced.”

“It’s not really a drawback,” said Calvin.

“Admit it,” said Felix. “It is a drawback. We can take water and try to shape magic

out of it, but it becomes another element in the process.”

“I would love to see that,” said Will.

“Not now,” said Nick. “Granny Bitter will come along to ask why you are doing

magic when we are supposed to be getting ready for dinner at our new home.”

“Nick’s right,” said Calliope. She shrugged. “If you try something and it changes,

you could catch a lot of the students in whatever spell, and the teachers will issue a

punishment before we can get started learning things.”

“You might be forced to cast spells until you use up all your power and have to

recharge,” said Steve. “I had to do that once. It took forever for me to get back

enough strength to use the minor spell I always keep.”

“A minor spell you keep?,” asked Will.

“I have twelve slots,” said Steve. “Right now they are full. If I have to use a new

spell, I trade it for one spell I don’t think I need. I always keep this one spell because

it does a lot for a little effort.”

“You can show us later,” said Calliope. “After all, we still have to deal with Granny

Bitter.”

“I don’t think she will like that name,” said Crow.

“We can’t call her Mother Dearest,” said Nick.

“We could, but it would look like we’re being asses for no reason,” said Will. “Other

than the fact she stole one of my cigarettes. And you too, Miss Muscle Arms. You

should pay me back for the cigarette you stole.”

“But I won’t,” said Calliope. She smiled at him. “After all, there’s a no smoking

policy in the hall.”

“I have a policy for you,” said Will.

“I think we’re about to hear the motivation speech,” said Nick. He eyed an old

academic with veins visible under his pale skin. His faded eyes took in the new

students as he marched to the front of the classes.

“I know most of you didn’t have much choice in being here, and don’t want to be

here,” said the old man. “Instead of coming here to a magical school, you could have

found someone to teach you things closer to home. That might have been a better

choice for some of you.

“We’re going to have dinner. All of the sections will be shown where their quarters

are in the castle afterwards. Uniform fitting and a tour will come tomorrow bright and

early. Magic testing will come after that. All of the faculty are experts with different

types of magic, and will be able to show you the first steps on improving your control.

All questions about procedures and so on will be answered by your testers.

“Dinner is served.”

The old man walked to take a spot at the faculty table. Carts full of covered trays

rolled into the room. They paused at the end of every table. The lids were placed

aside and food on trays were handed out by older students who had done this before.

Nick passed the food down at his table. He idly wondered what his magic test would

look like in the morning. He hoped he didn’t have to try some kind of general

thing. He was never good at that, despite what he could do with the thunder cracker

and variant spells he could use from beating a monster.

They might just kick him out if they couldn’t mold him.