The Writers' Circle

It's not very usual that a teacher will set a lesson before school starts. However, the most magical hours are usually at night or in the twilight hours. In which case, you get a lot of tired students making their gloomy way to school much too early.
After pulling on my school uniform - a long black dress with a red tie around the waist - I quickly check that my reflection doesn't look as though I was attacked by a werewolf. My dark hair hangs in tangled lumps around my tired looking eyes. My eyes glow their deep green colour. I'm told they are like my dad's. Well, I wouldn't know that. My skin glows an unnaturally pale hue. Heather sometimes jokes that I look like a vampire's got me.
I pick up my hairbrush and attack my hair.
After tidying myself up, I get down to the second floor, much more easily this time and with fewer falls, and cross to my sister's room.
	Gabriella, nicknamed Ella, is not known for being an early waker. However, I don't think I could claim that either. She lies sprawled across her bed, her long brown hair fanning around her head. I smile. I was going to tell her not to worry, we have an early class and I'll see her at school but now I find I don't have the heart to wake her. I go over to her desk, find some paper and a quill, and jot down a note. I gently lay it on her bedside table and then head downstairs to Heather.
	She's fuming of course. It took me a little longer than expected to get ready. I lost the sense of urgency about half way through. 
	Without acknowledging my presence, Heather stalks out the door. I think she's rather more sleep deprived than genuinely annoyed at me but I don't think I'll bring that up.
	I grab my cloak and follow after her.
	It's getting lighter outside. I still can't see the sun but the sky has changed from being inky black to a lighter blue. Lights have lit up along the street. They are tiny little globe lights, conjured up and trapped in a glass frame. They come on when one of the caretakers in the omble light one. I loved seeing them all flare up when I was younger. I got impressed easily.
	We walk until the lights of the omble have faded behind us. A dark nothingness spreads out before us. The trees wave their spindly branches up ahead, making it look as though there are claws above us. Panicking slightly, I try to calmly take my wand out of my cloak's pocket and light it. Heather beats me there.
	"Efiri," she mutters under her breath, speaking the Magical Language. A strong beam of light bursts from her wand and forms itself into a ball that floats above her head. Strictly speaking, she shouldn't need the wand. Forming the spell in the mind and projecting it outwards with the right spell can release magic instead. Those who are just learning magic to help them focus their magic more use wands. Those who are experienced with magic only use wands for trickier spells. Heather has used hers so she can cast a spell alongside the lighting spell that makes sure I can't see anything in her light. So I light my wand as well and then trip over a rock.
	Heather chuckles under her breath as she helps me up. I sense I'm forgiven for getting up late. But she drops me.
	"Ok, ok, I get it. Help me up now," I groan.
	She does so. "Sorry. It was too tempting." Her playful smile breaks over her face. I pretend to scowl at her.
	"Rithtio," I say, and the spell knocks Heather onto her feet, giving me time to get up and run off without her.
	We reach the clearing where our lesson is taking place out of breath but still laughing. Everyone turns to look at us. That shuts us up pretty quick.
	"Good morning, Miss Combe, Miss Meredith. Take your seats please." The teacher, Mr Bateri, gives us each a disdainful look. 
	There are no seats really. Just the soft grass. We sit meekly down at the back.
	The small clearing is generally used for classes. So much so that it has its own little path at the back, run down by the many trampling feet it has had to endure. A thick circle of trees surrounds the clearing but many small magical plants brave the open air and emerge here. A purple climbing flower just falls above Heather's and mine heads, each flower glowing with its own secret language of light.
	Mr Bateri turns back to the class.
	"The bellosum flower features in many spells. The one I will be showing you today is extremely helpful if you should ever get lost. Bellosum reacts only to the sunlight. As you see right now," here he indicates to the flowers at his feet, "they are all closed. Can anyone tell me how you tell the difference between bellosum and Drygon?"
	A number of people put their hands up to answer. Mr Bateri chooses a faun who is sitting right in front of him.
	"Bellosum contains a lot of water," she says. "If you cut it open, there should be enough to fill at least a jug. Drygon doesn't need water so it doesn't have any inside it."
	"Very good, Miss Rebecca. Also, the bellosum flower has a distinct brightness. It turns white when burning, whereas Drygon turns and red and also emits a faint roaring. At the twilight hour it will give out a very strong white light. This whole clearing will be completely lit up soon."
	Almost as if the sky had heard him, twilight comes forth and immediately the bellosum light up as brightly as a star. Some near the front shield their eyes. However, the glow does not last long. It slowly dies, eventually leaving no more than a faint glow. This is when the teacher swiftly bends down and picks a small bud.
	"Watch closely," he says. He waves his hand over the flower. Its faint glow intensifies. It turns blue and green and brown, all earth and sea colours. Finally, the flower opens. From the centre, a fine mist floats upwards to hover in the air. The class watches fascinated as the mist begins to form a familiar shape.
	"Our home and sanctuary, the Magical Isles," Mr Bateri announces. A floating model of the Isles forms out of the misty glow. Three islands covered in dark, green trees. You can see the mountains in the centre of each isle in perfect detail, with the forest climbing up their sides. There are even tiny villages and I can see the school with the ombles at a distance surrounding it. There are old ruins puncturing the sea of trees and small towns.
	"Which one is Terlim?" Mr Bateri asks. "Ritoth. Come point to it."
	A werewolf who looks like he's had a bad night grumpily stands up and points at the town on Second Isle. "Here, sir."
	"That's right. Now, if you were to fly over this way," he makes a motion around the mountain to the right, "there may be some difficulties. Why is this?"
	Mr Bateri continues asking the class questions, although most people are now ignoring him. I'm still mesmerised by the sight. I had wondered what having a class at dawn had to do with geography. We have one lesson a week on geography after we've been given flying permission, just so we know where to go and where's not safe to fly and such like. Also it makes a study of interesting places and landmarks.
While Mr Bateri talks, Heather nods off beside me as well as many of the class; the disadvantage of having an early class. All of the elves are listening avidly. They love everything to do with the earth. 
	"When picked at dawn, this flower will be preserved until you choose to open it," Mr Bateri continues. "It's a useful way of seeing where you are, for if you look closely, our position is marked with a spark."
	I can see it glistening not far away from the school. I settle back to enjoy the sunrise, forgetting I'm in a lesson. It's too magnificent to ignore. If it had a voice, it would be yelling out, drowning even Mr Bateri's words. I hear Heather snoring lightly and chuckle under my breath. Luckily, Mr Bateri is disillusioned by the elves' interest and doesn't notice us at the back.
	It lasts for an hour. At the end, I nudge Heather to wake her up.
	"Stupid spiders get off of me," she shouts. A few people look curiously our way but most are too busy packing up. Mr Bateri frowns at her but he decides to let it go.
	"Seeing as it's nearly seven, let's go back to the school," he smiles. "I guess some people may want to get some extra studying in."
	Everyone groans. Well, everyone except the elves and a few of the fauns. The fauns are generally bright, diligent students. Less so than the unrelenting concentration of the elves but more so than the rest of us. Slowly, I drag myself to my feet. At least I can enjoy the bright sunshine on the way down.
	We walk in separate packs along the old stony path. An arch way marks the end of the forest. The people in front shuffle along, making sure to touch the old stone griffin head on the top of the arch, just for luck. Heather and I are at the back again. 
	"Why does it have to be so cold?" Heather complains. 
	It is rather cold today. I'm guessing the Isles have moved somewhere to the north. Somewhere cold but with some sun. Oh yes, the Isles move around the world, sometimes it's a different place every day. But it doesn't matter how close we get to the land, the isles are protected from any prying human eyes. Any boats go right past us. There have been studies to see how this worked. The magic to protect the isles was put in by the first witches and wizards, most likely the Old Ones, to make this place the last haven for magic in the world. We learnt all about it in History. However, the magic that makes the Isles move was already in place. Probably by the elves, although they claim it was always there, even before they came.
	We trudge our way over the last hill before reaching the school. We're at the Southern gate, the school stretching out before us. It looks more like a jumble of buildings that have no similarity to each other what so ever. Towers both big and small rise up out of the mass. Windows of all different shapes reflect the dusty morning light. And in the very middle is the Library, the prize of Tranquillity. A huge building made of golden brick with intricate stonework and piled to the ceiling with books. That's what I've always loved about this school, why I chose to go here rather than the other major schools or even a small minor school. That I can sit in that building and read to my heart's content and still be able to say I'm studying. Sometimes, life is bliss.
	Heather knows I'm off daydreaming. She sighs impatiently. We pass through the huge gates. Above our heads, a sign, seemingly woven out of gold thread, pronounces this to be 'Tranquillity, Academy of Magic for elves, fauns, witches, pixies, wizards, werewolves, fairies and merpeople'. Underneath is the school motto, emoma teciaro salis, meaning the rose shuts the gate. People have long ago forgotten what that was supposed to signify. 
The class disperses. I start wandering towards the library before Heather can pull me away.
	"Not the library," she groans. "Come on, why don't we see if we can find Francesca or Simon?"
	"Do we have to?" I say, annoyed at being thwarted in my attempts to reach the library.
	"Yes, now come on."
	We eventually find both in the study hall. A long room with several wooden tables everywhere, lined with a few bookshelves and some sofas for those who do a lot of studying. It's mainly just used for hanging out and talking when the weather is bad.
Francesca is trying to get Simon to help her study for a test, because she's a faun and contentious at that. But Simon is a pixie and has no interest what so ever in studying.
	"Relax," he's telling her as we near them. "It's just one little test. And besides," he adds, flipping through the text book, "I'm sure you know this off by heart anyway.
	"No, I forgot to study last night. Come on, pixie, give me a break."
	"You give me a break. I'm tired of all this work. Oh, hi Cass, Heather." Simon grins, flashing ultra white teeth, made whiter by his brilliant orange hair. His canines are pointed, giving him a mischievous look. As Heather sometimes says, judge by the teeth. His skin is tinged with a light green and his golden wings flutter, eager to get out of studying.
	"You aren't going to get anywhere by studying with Simon," I say, sitting down next to her. "Let's have a look."
	"Thanks, Cass," Fran smiles gratefully. 
	Heather picks up a paper beside Fran. There's a big bold headline 'New Discovery of Creatures in the Forest' with a black and white picture of a gangly child like person. Since we are not the natural inhabitants of the Isles, we are forever finding new creatures of magical origin. There are a few normal creatures here, like cats and some dogs, mice, owls, spiders. This creature actually looks somewhat near human. The experts will have a great time documenting this. 
	Heather scans through the article, just picking out some major points and then touches the centre of the paper lightly. It clears and then shows a new page. 'Mysterious Light seen on Coast'. 
	Heather shakes her head and thinks out loud, "I highly doubt it's anything mysterious. Probably some strange creature they haven't had a chance to meet yet. Now there'll be experts hanging around the beach looking for unusual lights for ages."
	"Well, it's not like we're going down to Newt's Eye anytime soon," Simon says, taking the newspaper off Heather.
	"Hey, I was reading that," Heather reaches to snatch it back.
	I laugh with Francesca as they argue. Then I notice someone coming in and I become self conscious. I slouch more in my chair. Heather, of course, notices.
	"What are you...?" she turns round. "Oh, him."
	"Cassie's got a crush," Simon sings.
	"No, I don't," I protest. "I don't even know him anymore."
	The object of our talk is Evin, in the year above. A very good looking elf who I used to be friends with, once, a long time ago. Before we came here, we used to talk all the time about what magic would be like when we could study it. But once we got to Tranquillity, we barely spoke. We just moved in different circles I guess. I'm sorry for that. Now it's strange seeing him because he's changed so much.
	"Cass," Fran moans. "I need help!"
	"OK, OK," I say. "And you can shut up and all," I add to Simon who's making kissing noises.
Heather returns to her retrieved paper.
	"Pixies," she mutters.