15. Minerva

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Elaine felt the coldness of their glares as they sliced into her like invisible, blades of a storm. A piece of her wanted to submit to that hesitation, that fragile intimidation. Had she been herself a year ago, Elaine might have feigned ignorance, might have exerted guilty obliviousness. But she was different now. More importantly, however, these students, they were bothering her friend.

One of them turned to face her, crossing her arms as she gave Elaine a disgusted once-over. The expression she wore made it seem as if what the girl was staring at was as putrid a sight as a dead rat on the side of the street, or a beautiful dress inflicted with an inky stain. Elaine wondered just how she appeared within those pair of rich, forest-green eyes.

She was a fair-skinned girl with a round face and grayish-brown hair that splattered over her shoulders in glistening streams. There was a small mole underneath her right eye. She stood to be approximately the same height as Elaine herself—perhaps only a few inches taller—and was fashioned with ruby-colored earrings and a silvery ring on the middle finger of her left hand.

The girl didn't flinch as Elaine approached. Rather it looked like she was disappointed by something. No, she was just bored. The yawn she expelled made that apparent.

"And who's this?" she said, cutting a leer at Fearne. "Friend of yours?"

"...I...err..." Fearne stammered.

It was then that Elaine noticed her roommate had already blinked free some tears, and they made her red cheeks damp. This only served to incite Elaine's anger even more.

"Yeah, I'm her friend," Elaine affirmed with a grimace. "And I demand to know what's going on here."

"Hey, watch your tone. She's the one that ran into us," said the lanky student with dark hair. He stalked in front of her with a raised chin, aiming a scowl that made his triangular-shaped face stretch. So it appeared that he bested her in both height and attitude. "We just wanted an apology, then she had to go start squirming and making noises."

Elaine frowned at him. "And just how did she manage to wind up on the floor?"

"Like I said," he smirked, "the fault was her own. She should have watched where she was going. If you ask me, someone as clumsy as her needs to pay better attention. One of these days, she might bump into the wrong person."

"Fearne, is that true?" Elaine asked.

She hadn't a word for her—discounting a cluttered mumbled—and stayed planted where she was, her head held to the floor.

"Well, I don't buy it," Elaine said, shaking her head. "Even if she really did trip into you, it was only an accident. And I don't care whose fault it was, the least you could have done was help her. But you just laughed, right? Leads me to doubt if what you've told me is the truth."

"This is pointless," the girl with grayish hair yawned. "It seems father's presumptions were accurate."

"Yeah, he was right on the money," the boy nodded. "Jeez, and after all the contributions our family has made to this school. These days, I've got to wonder if Glyph Academy is purposefully trying to sully its own reputation."

"There were some decent standouts at Orientation," said the other girl with topaz blue eyes and chestnut hair fixed as a ponytail. Her skin was like cream, a milky ocean covering her face. "Still, from what I've gathered, it isn't uncommon for a handful of...undesirables to slip through the cracks. Case in point."

"Undesirables?" Elaine repeated. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious? Clover's referring to mages like that one back there. Those who are unworthy of using magic, undeserving of the Gift they have unrightfully been bestowed," said the girl with grayish hair.

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