First story, don't be afraid to state your opinion and write a review. The early chapters are being worked on, anything before chapter 7 is going to be revised.

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I'm running, running through a narrow hallway. The walls enclose all around me, each vying for my life. Thick, lung smothering smoke surrounds my person, entering my body and forcing me to cough. My little feet do their best to scurry towards an exit but each path I take is closed off by broken and splintered planks of wood, all being devoured by the orange flames.

*Hic*

There, somewhere within this hellish place, I hear the cry of a child nearly inaudible somehow piercing through the crackle of the fire. The sting in my eyes prevents me from seeing the path ahead. I follow the sound, the single sound different from the others, allowing it to guide me. Just barely, I weave under and over the broken pieces of wood. It's getting louder.

From the living room, my right ear bears the discomfort of a higher pitched vibration. Holding my hands up, I wander over to the closet, careful not to stumble, not to fall. Grasping onto the handle of the closet, I slowly pull it open.

Crouched into a little ball, my redheaded little sister Aisha cries into her arms which are supported by her wobbling knees. Feebly, I reach out to her, the strong headed annoying little sister I know shows her terror without restraint. No brave face, no lies. Only horror. Only fear. None of her previous gusto that she once had, none of that bragging about her magic.

*CRACK*

A bone-chilling noise comes from right above me. Run. Hide. I panic and rush inside. The beam falls. There's no way out. Fire blocks the path like fate itself has intervened. There's no place for me, for my sister, to run. Surely we'll die, all those petty squabbles and arguments mean nothing now. If life wanted to teach me a lesson, it's done it in the most horrible way.

And it's working. All those things the two of us argued about, shouted at each other about, seem like nothing compared to this fire.

Within the near yet distant background, two silhouettes stand facing each other. One's my dad. The other has his face hidden.

"We're in here!" I shout. But it's nothing but a hopeless grab for their attention. As if death were teasing me, the roar of the fire masks my cry for help.

I almost choke on my breath, my eyes burn even more intensely. The flames, the undiscriminating killer makes its way here. My vision blurs, and I turn away from the impending doom, eager to twist my mind off the subject of death. Yet, I know better.

Grabbing hold onto Aisha, I pull her in. If the last thing I do is give her comfort, if the least that I can do is protect her for a moment longer, that's all right. Her tears soak my shirt. If only I could do something.

The closet doors catch on fire. Aisha buries her face in deeper crying louder and louder. The fire seems so quiet compared to her...

"A-Aisha," I say into her ear. "I-it's okay. I'm here."

I hear the cackle by my ears. The fire's here. It's crawling up my clothes.

It's just warm.

I burst upright out of my bed, letting the sheets fall. From my line of sight, I spot no fire, I feel no heat, I hear no roars. Instead, what surrounds me is the beam of a new day, it breaks through an opening in the curtains and shines light upon the walls. A mixture of the season temperatures lies dormant in my room with no winds to change the flow. The only sound able to reach my ear is the ticking of the clock as it systematically moves around and around.

I still search the room for any signs of a fire. The uncolored, uninteresting white walls are just that, white. No charred spots, no evidence of any fires here. I bring up my hand, sweat, cold as the early spring showers, run down my arm. I suddenly remember to breathe, the breaths are short, each one rushed, impatiently pushing their way through and forcing my body to take another.

I look up at the clock, it reads a perfect seven.

The things I just saw, the images in my head, the play that just went on. It was nothing more than a dream, a nightmare, a memory of the day my world shattered. I grasp tightly onto the pendant around my neck, a gift from my father, the only thing I have to remember him by.

I roll out of my bed, today's the first day of school. I don't have to time to sit and reminisce about better times, those weren't that great anyways.

Those were the days where I simply remained ignorant of the world, where I believed that each and every human being was inherently good.

I break out of my harmful mindset and get back to getting ready for the day. I slip on my white magician's robe, which is our school's uniform, and put on a pair of pants. The only things that set the uniform away from a normal magician's robe are the simple, yet masterfully sewn on crest of the academy, and the black cuffs that cover half of the forearm. A split comes up from the bottom, right between the legs, to the lower abdomen to allow quick actions.

All the movements I make are quick and efficient. My master sometimes calls it robotic but I've found it the most effective for the tasks he has for me. His tasks are downright brutal at times and the routine he's had me on for four years has hammered those reactions into my very being. In the end, I chose to go under his hellish training for some semblance of power. I can only scrape the bottom of his feet.

The story of the school is for improving one's magic. I was sent here to study. I don't understand why he'd send me here and leave me under the care of someone else. If anything, I think he's enough to teach me magic. My magic has only recently awakened, and they're too weak to be on par with my close combat abilities. He sent me to this school with the excuse of him being too unskilled in magic to properly teach me.

I'm not too sure about following the instructions of someone else, but this school is famous, it's the most well known throughout the continent, even among some of the elven academies. Built under the control of the human empire, the Kaldora Empire, Renard Academy has flourished and spread its name throughout the land. If a child were asked, where would you like to go to learn magic? The child would already have the answer resounding on their lips.

Created a few years ago, more than ten, less than twenty, it's become the pride of the city. The Kaldora Empire, formed five hundred years ago, right after the great war, was built to protect the scattered remnants of the human race, on the northern continent, who were pushed to extinction. Although other kingdoms were formed, the reason why Kaldora became so strong was because of the seven great magicians that helped formed it. One of whom the academy is named after.

I finish dressing myself and get ready to leave the dorm room. Being a student here, I get to live within one of their monstrous ten story dorms, the one for boys of course.

Moving to the exit I slip on my boots, preparing to leave until, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a blue glow. I head over, fully aware of what it is. My master gave me this scroll as a way to contact me. Heh, the man wouldn't even give me one that lets me respond. I suppose it's because he's the master and I'm the student, our positions aren't exactly equal on the scale.

Meet me in Treant Park.

Ahaha. I should expect a message like that, it's from him after all. I've seen him recently but I want to see him again, usually, he'd be the first person I see in the morning. We've been traveling for four or so years after all. He always stayed up later than me to tend the fire, I dislike the silence of the night, so that's why he'd do it although he denies this still to this day.

I put down the scroll and strap on my boots, heading to Treant Park will probably make me late for the first day of school. I sigh as I walk out the door.