<div class="floatright">(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQbgyjauXhO1CEQQmnGiDe8O0jXLFBLToZgKysWmzMC_63iTaLkxPcPie5lUa77LKvxDJc&amp;usqp=CAU)</div><br/>Raining. Rain was both good and bad, a mixed blessing. It helped people not notice things, absorbing attention and dulling sound, distracting and making observation turn inward.  But it also smothered fire, the elemental rock-paper-scissors game. Fire was fierce and gave light, shelter. The world was cruel and removing fire was the closest thing Alundra identified as sacrilege in a nightmare created by humans being inhumane. Of course the girl understood that her… particular relationship with the element wasn’t the healthiest, or safest. But that hardly mattered, was just a fact to consider and weigh.<br/><br/>The art of sneaking, moving unobtrusively was deceptively simple. You had to not be obvious about it. Many people made the mistake of looking like they were sneaking. That drew attention, caught gazes drawn to unexpected and out of place elements. You had to glide along smoothly, moving through the world without much ripples. Being so small often helped. No eye contact, no pausing to let the spotlight settle. Head down, so they didn’t see how you were watching them. People hated to be watched. And if they would just leave her alone, Alundra was perfectly happy to ignore everything. Perhaps dyeing her vibrant hair would help with the camouflage, but the girl was unwilling to give up the only thing she had left from her parents, whoever they had been. Besides…. Her particular talent and hair dyeing didn’t mix well. Regardless, she was one of the people filtering into class, middle of the pack. Early enough to claim a back corner seat, away from everyone else. And the air around her was unpleasantly warm, noticeably warmer than anything nearby in dreary, gloomy Nevermore. Alundra did not want nor need company. Though the teacher was gorgeous, stunning in the way that could cause problems.<br/><br/>The girl had no idea what classes to sign up for, but fortunately the headmistress had largely solved that issue. Magic, magic, magic, the cure for…. Whatever. Miss Merryweather, what a lovely name to go with the looks, and soothing voice. Yeah, she’d have to work harder just to focus on the lessons, and not the teacher. Alundra leaned over her Nevermore issue notepad, writing the methods down in her awkward, blocky all capital letters. Nevermore had been… a surprise, the kinds of people who handled unexpected problems shunting her to the school without much room for debate. Living an extremely unusual life meant meeting extremely unusual people, so she wasn’t entirely unaware of… Outsider types.<em>There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,</em>and all that. But she was surprised by the number and variety… Gorgons and sirens and witches, oh my. And now her, another kind of outsider again. Always.<br/><br/>The tiny girl tensed, the whole ‘everybody introduce yourself’ thing an utter nightmare. But willing was the keyword, thankfully, a thoughtful reprieve to the shy and avoidant. No way in hell was she drawing attention to herself. That was dangerous. As was technoshaman, probably.  It sounded complicated and prone to going very wrong. But the younger redhead couldn’t help the tiniest bit of lip bite as Miss Professor Merryweather got a little firmer. Yum. Older women was…. A complicated often problematic attraction. Fire wasn’t the only thing Alundra loved, or that caused her trouble. Her eyebrows drifted into a frown… Werewolves. Urgh. Figured the nasty beast would want to play fetch with himself. If any wereanything tried to sniff her butt, she’d settle them quickly. Her discomfort increased at the mention of potion fueled debauchery.. consent was very, very important. People who did notice her tended to have issues with small women. Her breathing stopped, all motion stilled at a particular word from the professor.<br/><br/><strong>Immolation. </strong><br/><br/>Well. That hit close to home.<em>Was it chosen deliberately? A comment directed specifically for me? How many people can play with fire, here?</em>It…. Seemed likely. Especially with the mention of extinguishers. Her room had four, spaced equidistant around the area designed for two people. Alundra had it all to herself, for reasons.<br/><br/>The quiet girl glanced at Pinkie and Pasty, following their questions. Unexpected. Maybe the goth look wasn’t entirely by choice? Her musings about the students was interrupted by the teachers declaration of her own rune. Holy cow. How old was their teacher??? Another little frown, noting that none of the described categories seemed to match her specific situation quite right. Metamagic, perhaps? Maybe, depending on what it even was. Merryweather was so pretty when worked up about stuff… Defending the vulnerable, yep. A good sign. Though the word naked caused just the faintest blush to form. Not fair. Alundra was definitely better at controlling her reactions than Matilda, the least gothy name ever. Silly goths, obsessed with suffering when most of them had no idea what real hardship was. And No Pain gothgirl and Pinkie kept talking, quite distracting. Though it was hardly surprising that others found their teacher so attractive.<br/><br/>Psionics… Another possibility to research. Especially with the hint of another fire word, kindle. The whole… Triangle/leviathan thing made her blink, confusion briefly visible. More things than she knew, indeed.<br/><br/><em>This is the black sea-brute bulling through wave-wrack,<br/>Ancient as ocean's shifting hills, who in sea-toils<br/>Travelling, who furrowing the salt acres<br/>Heavily, his wake hoary behind him…</em><br/><br/>But a tiny sigh as the talk came back to sportsballs. Boys. No drawing runes for her, no messing with things she didn’t understand. At least fire responded to her. Sorta. Seemed like Billy would be her natural rival in botany class. But horror of horrors, a walking nightmare! Even someone as practiced at the iron emotional control that kept one safely isolated couldn’t quite contain the dismay and even fear that coursed through her.<em>Shapechangers!!</em>The worse possibility. How could you know who would betray you if they could change face at will? Danger, danger, danger!! What if they looked like someone trusted? She’d have to be even more cautious than expected. How safe was the school supposed to be? They were teaching potentially lethal skills. Would it be necessary to go to extremes to defend herself? There was the faintest crackle in the air, a sudden scent of wood under the pressure of enough heat to release some of the natural smell. The girl’s hair twitched slightly, waving for a moment under no known breeze.<br/><br/>But as Miss Professor Merryweather snagged her attention again, stilled the brewing problem. Put it aside for another day. That woman sure liked her fire metaphors…. Interesting. Appealing. A little nerve wracking… It was hard to not feel singled out. Surely the strange school had piles of paperwork on one Alundra Volkira. ‘energy to transmute the ambient ethereal magical energy into the physical’…. Maybe that was the how, but not really the why. At least she was well aware that magic could be dangerous. Alluring, enticing dancing danger, to light the world and purify problems. Though it seemed like real magic had plenty of unforeseen pitfalls. No summoning for her, thanks. Wings sounded cute, but her first kiss was something she’d keep. The last one, well. But happy memories were a rare treasure. Automatically, she listed the Pasty one’s preferences. Keeping a file on everyone in her head was an automatic reaction. Necessary for the constant scanning and revising of her threat assessments. Fortunately, she’d tested well out of Freshman Literature, books for people who didn’t like to read. Books were safe. And also burned nicely in an emergency. She didn’t have that class with the shapeshifting abomination. Maybe there was some sort of tracking spell, so Alundra could identify the walking nightmare spawn  no matter what face it took. She’d not be trapped and consumed so easily! Beast didn’t even like Poe. Another black mark on its melty rancid soul.  But she did have a class with Pasty, Tara. Even if the girl, shuffled from home to home and situation to situation, had far more practical psychology than most people ever needed. The girl sat quietly in her chair, both thinking and waiting. Not to be the first one out, nor the last. At least uniforms meant she seldom had to make camouflaging clothing choices.<br/>