Hera, who was expecting the weekends to be a much more enjoyable affair, now groaned as she dragged her feet toward another office of yet another teacher. It was a fine Saturday, the sky a forget-me-not blue, drifted carelessly by some tiny clouds, which did not reflect the gloom now slithering from insider her, a savage snake rising in response to her glares to the oblivious Amira. She was most enthusiastic about this. She had round them up just after breakfast and decided that they should do their detention now if they wanted to finish it by Friday. Hera agreed despite her desire to spend the time in her room. This was partly because Amira didn’t disclose what Hera had done, and partly because Hera was now hoping to get a whiff of the Standouts League.
As the main reason she accepted the invitation in the first place was to unravel the secret of her body, she’s becoming more and more desperate to meet Sheels once again. She knew it was only a matter of time befo
Hera, after accepting Patrick Hemmingworth’s offer, had been trapped in an already tight-knit, which became a lot firmer as days passed. From Ms. Lourdes who kept giving her detentions any way possible, Kioven nagging her how best to behave and what’s expected of a special scholar like her, to the arrival of the Standouts League that, according to the hysterics students, was more likely a perfectly placed net over them. Not only would their movement be restricted, but they’d also have to keep up with new additional rules this League would announce later on in the meeting. If it’s a question of choosing to attend or not, Hera would have picked the latter without much thought; however, something about the anxious look on Kioven’s face as he cornered her just outside the building of the dormitory earlier bothered her. It was almost as though he’s as shaken as the students, and that’s saying something. After all, he’s a part of the staff, no matter how young he might look.
The breeze of the evening wind was cold and tensed. There’s only silent, almost mournful, murmur in the Filling Hall, which made the food served on a silver platter trivial, pointless even. So, eating rather hastily, she made to go back to her dorm, deciding to sleep early despite the pile of homework she still had. Hopefully, the arrival of the Standouts League would make the teachers a little bit tolerant. “A word, Hera, if you please.” Hera almost jumped as Kioven’s voice rang in the silence of the doorway. He was leaning, arms crossed, on the doorframe, wearing a smug look, and was staring into nothingness, his eyes out of focus. Looking over her shoulder, she saw no disturbance from the others who were too busy talking with each other, barely eating. Sighing, she looked back at Kioven. Now that she knew who and what position he’s in, it seemed as though Hera’s seeing him in a new light. It was, after all, not an easy feat to be a Minister in his age. She
Hera woke with a start on Tuesday, a tight knot on the pits of her stomach making her body a little heavy. She sat straight, wiping the wet off her cheeks, and stared at the open window. A feeble light was starting to creep upward, crowning the still, dark horizon a tinge of brightness. Hera sighed. Another day was rising, yet she didn’t feel elated. She dreaded the time when the sky would turn blue and the sun was already way up above, for then she would have no excuse but to face the school. It’s not hard to guess by now that it would be just as miserable as her former week, or even worst, considering the terrible presence of the League.For a moment there she didn’t know why she’s sinking in misery, but the sight of a pamphlet lying helplessly on the tiled ground brought the memory back. She felt a little queasy. Shaking it off, she went to the comfort room and lay on the tub. It’s starting to become a hobby of hers. Waking up, resting on the
As August approached, the rain lashed on the grounds of Psyche Sect. Fortunately, they have working sewage that prevented flood to bank on any part of the school. The only problem was how distractive the pound of rain could get. It was almost as though it was drumming on the roof, as though showers of pebbles were actually falling from the sky.Hera was stuck on her afternoon classes. They’re barely spent half an hour from their first session, yet it looked like the horizon had yielded in the storm. The sky outside was covered with dark clouds that it seemed the night had decided to come early.The chairs in the theater-like room were shoved in the corner, giving a wide berth for the students to face each other. Students were paired and were seated facing each other on the flight of steps, Mr. Castro sweeping the room to assist their attempts. Hera had so far regarded this activity dull and less intriguing than the rage of the storm outside. Even her classmates w
Inside the elevator, alone and a little bit soaked, Hera stood. She was shaking a little, her palms on her chest. There was a mingled look of surprise and irritation drawing her face as she stared at her barely visible reflection. In the silence, the drumming of her heart was almost audible, a rapid tick that agitated her soul. As she shifted from where she’s standing, the elevator door opened. The three students stopped talking once they realized who’s inside. They looked at each other for a moment until the door started closing. Slipping in, Hera moved to the corner, fixing her hair so that it obscured her features. Hera tapped her feet, trying to steady her breathing. Once in a while, the girls were glancing in her direction and those short moments of attention knotted her stomach and clenched her heart. It was almost a relief when she reached the seventh floor. Without looking at them, she swept past, but her expression turned blank at the party awaiting her. The
Hera had had to admit she’s confused with herself. The main reason she’s standing on this very ground was her resolve to unravel the secret of that body transfer. It seemed prudent that she was to use it. While fate had blessed her with an accursed life, it had, miraculously, bestowed a redemption, that which would give her the chance to experience grandeur or a living beyond what she already had.And yet, she refused point-blank to associate herself with the Standouts League. She had managed to evade Sheels for a week—a feat she never thought possible—and she didn’t know until when she could keep this up. All she’s aware of was that authority would never suit her. She’s better on the backside, behind the curtain where no one would be any wiser to give her any attention.If she’s lucky slipping from the hands of the League’s leader, the same couldn’t be said to Mr. Castro. As they had classes four times a week
When the morning of Friday bloomed in its entirety, Hera was to wake with the rich and bright rays of the sun peering from the window. It was lukewarm. Hera smiled as she clenched her fist on the ledge, looking down at the school. The trees were dancing with the morning breeze, watched by the blue horizon, cloudless, just as ecstatic and weightless as Hera’s heart. Despite the feast of nature, the rest of the school was still in their slumber, but the silence was more than enough for Hera. It was an orchestra that which her ears kept longing to hear. Forcing herself to look away, Hera turn the light on and sat down on the bed. Five books were propped open on it, the contents highlighted and annotated. Hera was reading them when she fell asleep yesterday. It was weird and natural at the same time, as though she was meant to be a bookworm from the very beginning.
“You are equally guilty when you don’t do something to the crime unfolding right before your eyes,” said Sheels irritably, sitting cross-legged on a spindle table just beside a circular table where the two other League sat, one of them detached from what’s happening and one of them eyeing Hera furtively. Hera kept her head down. She had suspected this nagging ever since she received the text and it didn’t give her satisfaction. Alright, she’s guilty about it, but they didn’t need to make it look as though she was the one who bullied Janna. Even if she tried to help, Shaine might end up beating her to a pulp as well. In a way, they should be grateful there’s only one victim. “Oy, are you listening?” Blinking, Hera stepped back. Sheels was waving her hand right in front of her, looking annoyed. Sh