text: ^(Disclaimer: I did not personally come up with the general plot and storyline. This was created verbally between myself and a friend of mine, as we bounced ideas off each other. I decided to try and write it down.) It was her first day of Refinement, and although all the adults made it seem like a big deal, she wasn’t particularly worried or excited. Yes, it was a big deal, the time where she began the classes that would prepare her for her ideal place in society, but to her it was just another class. It was a little interesting that she’d been chosen so young, only six, four years younger than the standard Refinement age. But you didn’t question the Refiners, and although there were some strange looks when others saw her carry her bright blue schedule across the grounds, no one said anything. She had asked a few people if they knew what was usually taught in room 2285, but she only learned that it was just a standard science classroom that hadn’t been used for years. There wasn’t any specific career taught in room 2285. She couldn’t ask about her instructor, either. There wasn’t a name included in her Refinement request, which wasn’t really unusual in itself, but that was only because several careers were taught by multiple instructors, depending on the different subjects involved. She soon came to room 2285, at the end of a hall in a general education building, amidst many other nondescript, unremarkable classroom doors. Room 2285’s door was closed, so she knocked firmly as she had been taught. A calm, authoritative voice answered “Come in,” and she opened the door. She entered a plain room of off-white walls, office-style ceiling, white tile, and black chalkboard mounted on the opposite wall. There were about 20 desks on the floor, and all but one were pushed to either side of the room. The solitary remainder was positioned directly in front of a short black table that matched the height of the desk, behind which a 30-something man stood waiting. The girl walked purposefully up to the desk and sat down. She set a notepad and pen in front of her, then looked up to the man behind the table. “Hello, I’m--” “We will dispense with names in this room,” the man interrupted. “I do not know your name, and I do not need to. From now on in this classroom, we will stick with ‘Teacher’ and ‘Student’, understood?” His voice was soft and kind, but there was a hidden tone in it that screamed authority. The girl nodded. “Yes, Teacher,” she replied, intrigued. “And you will not be needing those,” Teacher replied, indicating the girl’s pen and paper. “In fact, don’t bring anything when you come to this class unless I instruct you otherwise.” She swept the notepad and pen into her bag, which was then deposited by her chair. “One more rule. You will not speak of, mention, or even hint at what goes on in this room to anyone. Your Refinement is between you and me alone.” The girl nodded her agreement. Teacher nodded back and produced a Bunsen burner, setting it on the table. He lit it and made adjustments until it produced a tall, bright orange flame. He then pulled out a piece of newspaper and held it over the flame, where it immediately caught fire. He casually set the still-burning paper on the table to the side, then fixed his gaze on Student. “What will happen if I put my hand in this flame?” “You’ll get burned,” she replied without any hesitation. Teacher raised his eyebrow in what looked like genuine surprise. “Will I? How do you know?” Student hesitated, but only barely. “That paper burned, and that’s what fire does. It burns things.” There was a moment of silence. “Do you want to test it yourself?” Student immediately shook her head. Teacher’s face was expressionless as he studied hers. It continued to remain expressionless as he set his hand over the flame, palm up. The flame touched his hand, lightly licking around the edges. The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she looked back and forth between her teacher’s face and the flame, but she didn’t make any noise. One... two... three seconds passed, and without blinking, breaking eye contact, or giving any indication that he felt anything, Teacher calmly pulled his hand back and showed Student his palm. It was unmarked. “Class dismissed,” Teacher said, dropping his hands to his side. Student blinked and was about to question him, but his gaze was penetrating and final. She stood, grabbed her bag, and quickly walked to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Teacher, who continued to watch her intently. She ducked out the door and closed it behind her. The next day at the scheduled time, the girl walked to room 2285 again. This time, though, there was a sign on the plain door. “No class today, come back tomorrow” it read. The girl read it twice before turning around and leaving the building. The next day revealed the same sign. When she saw the sign four days in a row, she started to worry. Did something happen to her teacher? Had she done something wrong? She had continued to return every day because the class had intrigued her; the sense of mystery surrounding her teacher and her Refinement was palpable. After a week of seeing the sign, the girl decided that she would knock and enter anyway the next time she came by. Maybe this was part of her class, some kind of test. But the next day, the sign was gone. She knocked tentatively and was relieved when she heard “Come in,” almost throwing the door open. The room looked exactly as it did when she had last left it, single desk in front of the large black table, with her teacher standing behind it. She took her seat at the desk. She didn’t have anything to set down. Teacher set the Bunsen burner back on the table, lit it, and made the adjustments. He started to burn another piece of newspaper, again setting it aside on the table. He locked eyes with Student. “What will happen if I put my hand in this flame?” Student was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I... I don’t know.” Teacher raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?” Student shook her head, but didn’t say anything. “Do you want to test it yourself?” Student shook her head again, but hesitantly. Teacher again held her gaze, his face blank. He set his left hand in the flickering flame, palm up for one... two... three... four... five seconds. Student watched with worry, completely uncertain. Teacher pulled his hand back and showed her his palm. Unmarred. “Class dismissed.” The next day, the girl found the sign on the door again. She returned every day for two weeks before the sign finally disappeared. “What will happen if I put my hand in this flame?” “Nothing.” Teacher raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? I won’t get burned?” Student shook her head with only an instant’s pause. “*You* won’t.” “*I* won’t?” Student said nothing. “Do you want to test it yourself?” A minute’s worth of silence passed between Teacher and Student. Slowly Teacher raised his left hand and placed it in the fire, palm up. Student met his eyes unflinchingly for a full ten seconds before Teacher again showed her his palm, perfectly healthy. “Class dismissed.” Student remained in her desk, looking at her Teacher for a few more moments, before she got up and left the room. The sign was on the door for a full month this time. “What will happen if I put my hand in this flame?” “Nothing.” “Do you want to test it yourself?” Student looked at Teacher for a long moment before standing and walking up to the table. She looked down at the Bunsen burner, its orange flame flickering soundlessly. She raised her hand and quickly thrust it into the flame, her palm facing the wall. The orange flame parted around her flesh, conforming to the shape of her hand perfectly, leaving a space of a half inch as it rose. She felt heat, but not enough to cause pain. Student stared at the flame, full of curious wonder, but showing no surprise. Teacher let the barest hint of a smile cross his lips. Student retrieved her hand from the flame after moving it around for thirty seconds, the flame never touching her skin. She examined her hand and found nothing out of the ordinary; no pain, no burns. “Doubt,” Teacher stated, reaching into the flame himself. The flame parted, meandering around his palm. He scooped at the base of the fire and lifted, and Student watched with fascination as he held the flame in the center of his palm. “Doubt is a powerful force. You are told that there are certain laws of the universe. You have even experienced some of them. But your mind is more powerful. Doubt everything. Nothing is absolute.” Teacher closed his hand into a fist and the flame was caught and extinguished. “Class dismissed.” The next day Student walked in and saw that all the desks in the room, save one, had been removed. The table remained, and Teacher was standing behind it. Student took her seat and Teacher procured a glass, setting it on the table. “Have you been practicing?” he asked. Before she could answer, he flung the glass off the table and into the wall. It shattered and Student let out a little yelp of surprise, her eyes wide. Teacher stared at the pile of glass on the floor, then looked back up at Student. “Why did you let that glass break?” he asked. “Wha...?” “That was an unbreakable glass. Why did you let it break?” Teacher shook his head and walked over to the shattered pile. “We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said as he bent and began to carefully pick up each individual shard. Student hurried out the door. “Have you been practicing?” asked Teacher as he set a glass on the table. Student didn’t answer, she just concentrated on the glass. Teacher smirked, then flung the glass against the wall. It rebounded with a chink and Student let out a gleeful gasp, but when it hit the ground, it shattered. Teacher shook his head. “Keep practicing. I’m running out of unbreakable glasses. We’ll try again tomorrow.” He bent and collected the shards as Student left the room. “Have you been practicing?” Student didn’t even sit down today. She just stood behind her desk chair, concentrating. Teacher hurled the glass. Teacher and Student watched as it hit off the wall and plummeted to the ground, where it bounced several times before settling into rest. Teacher looked up at Student. He pulled out a tin cup and put it on the table. “Trick question,” he announced, and immediately pitched it at the wall. The cup shattered as it impacted the wall, pieces of metal littering the ground. Teacher watched the tin rain to the floor and looked back up at Student, a small smile on his face. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I’ll see you tomorrow.