Sahara Ashdell: Threat to Malorsty (Book 1)
Chapter 6: First Week of Classes

The following morning before breakfast, Sahara answers the door to her room and greets a familiar face, Rahlee. “Course Schedules for each of you.” Rahlee says as she smiles at Sahara handing her four mahogany brown scrolls.

“Thank you.” Sahara says as she looks at the scrolls. Each has a name written on a ribbon that is tied around the scroll. The other three elleths quickly run over to Sahara and grab their scrolls. Sahara unrolls her scroll impatiently. She has six courses throughout the week, one every day besides on Saturday. Saturdays were free days. Sunday is Basic Elfism taught by Saitar Truger. Monday is to be Basic Thought Magic with Saitar Hugis. Basic Mystical Combat with Saitar Regald on Tuesdays. Basic Spell Knowledge with Saitar Herglison on Wednesday. Thursdays were to be Advanced Humanism with Saitar Delovis and Friday, Basic Beastism with Saitar Bleavins. She also had plorksol practice three evenings of the week, on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday. She was not looking forward to plorksol because she knew she would have to see Brystol. He was so aggravating.

“What do you have today?” Carol asks Marol in concern.

Marol too sounds concerned in her response, “Basic Humanism.” She snatches Carol’s scroll from her hand and looks as if she is going to cry. “Basic Thought Magic?”

“Bularia, what about you?” Sahara asks.

“Basic Emotional Magic.” Bularia sounds pleased.

Carol looks at Sahara in hope, “Do you have Basic Thought Magic today?”

Sahara shakes her head no, “Basic Elfism.”

“Do any of us have any courses together?” Bularia asks as they all bunch together to look over each other’s scrolls.

“Basic Spell Knowledge.” Carol says excitedly.

“And Basic Beastism.” Sahara points out.

“You and I get to be in Basic Thought Magic together tomorrow.” Bularia says to Sahara with a bump against her shoulder.

“Basic Elfism.” Both Carol and Marol say together before they hug each other with glee.

“Of course, you get Advanced Humanism.” Bularia says as she points to Sahara’s page. “That is a second-year course.”

“Well, she did live with humans for thirteen years.” Marol says as she snatches Sahara’s scroll from her, “I would call that advanced.” She points in surprise to Sahara’s page. “How did you get into Basic Mystical Combat? That is a second-year class too.”

“What?” Bularia snatches the scroll from Marol. “You have to have had all your first year’s courses to get into that course. Why do you not have to take Basic Emotional Magic?”

Sahara is not sure how she would have gotten into two different second year courses. “Maybe it was a mistake? I will check with Rahlee when I get the chance. Sahara checks her classroom number and tries to memorize it before laying the scroll down on the desk beside her bed. Then, she shuffles through the books on the desk and finds her Elfism book as she speaks, “We better get going so we are not late for our first day of class.”

She finds Phylan sitting in the classroom for Elfism. “Phylan!” She moves over to sit next to him at his table. “I am so glad to have someone I know in this class!” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Likewise!” Phylan smiles at her. “If only it was a less boring course. Elf history is beyond dull.”

“Not for me.” Sahara feels awkward. “I only have two days’ worth of elf knowledge, so I may need some help in this course.”

“If you help me in Humanism, I will help you in Elfism.” Phylan propositions extending his hand toward her to seal the deal.

Sahara takes his hand in agreeance, “Deal!”

The students begin to silence as the creaking sound of Saitar Truger enters the room. The wheelchair is moving by itself at a slow steady speed. “First thing to know,” Phylan whispers in Sahara’s ear, “is that some elves can live to be 750 years old. Truger is almost 682 years old.” She tries not to look shocked at the number because she had no idea that elves could live so long.

“So, after five hours of the monotoned Truger, do you still think Elfism is not boring?” Phylan asks as they exit the classroom with a fake grin.

“He was making me rather sleepy.” Sahara yawns and it causes Phylan to snicker. Then she asks him, “You want to eat lunch with me before we go to plorksol practice?”

“We will have to have a quick lunch, because we have to go pick up our plorksol uniforms.” Phylan pulls her with him toward the staircase to descend to the banquet hall for lunch.

Brystol avoids Sahara during plorksol practice, and she feels relieved to have avoided another run in with him. She spends the entire time with Phylan and the other new members learning basic plays under the tutoring of Randolph.

Monday is much more of an exciting day with Basic Thought Magic. Sahara notices that Saitar Hugis is the same height as all the students while they are seated. She wonders if he is a different type of elf because he seemed more like the elves she had seen depicted in the human world. The day is spent working on learning how to move items around the classroom. Simple moves like, picking up a book with your mind and moving it over to the elf setting next to you. Sahara has no issues with the movement of objects with her mind, but Bularia has multiple issues with moving items and begins to get frustrated.

“Move you blasted book!” Bularia yells at the book at she moves her hand toward Sahara’s side of the table. The book suddenly flies toward Sahara’s head and nearly misses her face as she moves out of the way.

Saitar Hugis slaps the book as it zooms past him barely missing his head as well. “No emotions should be used in thought magic.”

Bularia looks remorseful as she apologizes, “Yes sir. Sorry.” Sahara hands Bularia her own book to try and practice on moving. “Thanks.” Bularia frowns toward her, “How do you make it look so easy?”

Sahara replies, “I just think what I want to happen, and it just happens.” She recalls Verdiwild telling her to stay focused and clear from all other thoughts. “Just clear your mind and think only about moving the book.”

Bularia gives her growl, “That is all I have been thinking about the last hour. I can’t think of anything other than this stupid book moving over to you?”

Sahara remembers Verdiwild also saying that some elves use things to assist them in thought magic. “Here.” She picks up a pencil from their table. “Try using this instead of your hand. Maybe it will focus the energy better.”

Bularia takes the pencil from her with a sigh, “I don’t see how it could hurt.” She points the pencil at the book and moves the pencil up slightly. The book lifts slowly from the table and Bularia gets excited. Suddenly, the book flies straight up into the air and hits the ceiling before falling back down loudly onto Sahara’s and Bularia’s table. Saitar Hugis looks over toward Bularia again with a scowl as he runs his short chubby fingers tipped with long pointy fingernails down his braided beard. Bularia sinks back into her chair timidly.

“Just try again.” Sahara urges her. “You are getting there.”

Bularia waits until Saitar Hugis turns around to lift the pencil up in the air again. She bites her bottom lip tightly as she closes her eyes. She slowly lifts the pencil up higher and the book lifts from the table. As she moves the pencil toward Sahara’s side of the table, the book follows and slowly lays down in front of Sahara. Sahara grows a large smile as she looks over at Bularia, who’s eyes are still tightly squeezed together. “That was perfect!” Sahara says as she lightly taps Bularia on the shoulder once.

Bularia opens her eyes and sees the book is now in front of Sahara. “I, did it?”

Sahara nods hastily. “You did.”

“That is unfortunate.” Saitar Hugis says surprising them by his presence. “Lomba thought magic.”

Bularia’s excitement disappears quickly from his words. Sahara leans over toward Bularia after Saitar Hugis walks away to ask, “What is lomba?”

“Blind.” Bularia says as she lays down the pencil in defeat. “It means I can only do thought magic with my eyes closed.”

“Oh.” Sahara realizes that is not a particularly good thing to be when doing thought magic.

Bularia gathers her things and begins to leave. Sahara also gathers her belongings and follows Bularia out of class. “It is alright!” Sahara tries to make her feel better as they exit into the hallway.

“No.” Bularia says as she turns abruptly facing Sahara. “It is not all right Sahara. If I have to close my eyes to do thought magic all the time that means I can’t take over my family’s business like they planned.” Sahara doesn’t understand what she means. Bularia continues with tears in her eyes, “My family owns the manufacturing plant. Thought magic is used to build all the items, like carriages. I can’t work in the plant with blind magic, it would slow the process down and it is a work hazard.”

Sahara feels sorry for her friend. She has no clue what to say to her, so she just stays silent as Bularia runs quickly away from her toward the staircase. A group of second year students move out of their classroom into the hallway, and it reminds Sahara about the scroll in her pocket. She slides her hand into her pocket feeling the scroll. She knows she needs to find Rahlee and ask about her second year courses, Mystical Combat and Advanced Humanism.

She finds Rahlee in her dorm room on floor A. “Hi. I just had a question about my schedule.” Sahara says pulling the scroll out of her pocket.

Rahlee takes the scroll from Sahara as she speaks, “Yes, I expected you would. But I can promise you it is not a mistake.”

Sahara is confused how she could be in Basic Mystical Combat. Advanced Humanism she understands. “But Mystical Combat is not for first years.”

“Ordinary first years, yes.” Rahlee hands the scroll back to Sahara. “But you are not ordinary, Aranel.”

“So, I am getting special treatment because I am an Aranel?” Sahara does not like the thought of her being treated different than all the other students.

“No.” Rahlee lowers her voice so others in the hall do not hear her words. “You are getting special treatment because you need to learn how to protect yourself.”

“From what?” Sahara finds her rationale confusing.

Rahlee shakes her head toward Sahara, “If you want more answers, you will not find them here.” Rahlee begins to close her door as she ends the conversation with, “Sorry Aranel.”

Tuesday, Sahara feels nervous as she enters the classroom full of yellow dressed ellons and elleth. They all turn to stare at her in surprise. Brystol’s familiar face causes her to crumble inside. Just what she needed was to be stuck in a class with him. She tries to show no emotion as she moves further into the room looking for a seat. Sahara feels annoyed as she realizes the only seat available is by Brystol. She scans the room one more time hoping she missed another empty seat, but she sees none. Saitar Regald sounds annoyed as he speaks, “Ah, our special first year. Aranel Sahara.” He bows slightly toward her. “Your seat awaits.” He motions to the seat next to Brystol. Sahara looks over at the cundu in reluctance. Brystol just looks down at the empty chair before looking back up at her. She lets out a large breath as she unwillingly sits next to him.

“Welcome to Basic Mystical Combat.” Saitar Regald sounds unexcited as he addresses the class. “Take out your books and turn to page four hundred and seventy-one.” His monotone makes the five hour class seem like eternity.

Wednesday, Spell Knowledge is a challenge. She realizes she will need to learn the elf language since all the spells are in the tongue.

She arrives a few minutes early for Advanced Humanism on Thursday and finds only one student already sitting in the middle of the room at a table. She decides to try and make a friend, “Hi.” She smiles at the elleth hoping she will be positively received. “Is this seat taken?”

“You must be Aranel Sahara.” The dark skinned elleth stands to her feet and curtsies.

“No. Please. Don’t.” Sahara asks feeling awkward, “Don’t bow to me.”

“I am Tregisa.” The elleth smiles at her. “I had heard you were taking second year courses. Are you in this class?”

“Yes, I am.” Sahara looks around toward the door hearing some students come in.

“Would you like to sit next to me?” Tregisa asks as she sits back down in her seat.

Sahara sees Waizlynn and Brystol enter the room together. “That would be amazing, thank you.” She says as she quickly sits next to Tregisa. She feels her heart pounding from having to be in another class with Brystol but also at the thought of Waizlynn being in class with her too.

“Oh look, Aranel Pukey is in our class.” Waizlynn snuffs toward Sahara as she passes by with Brystol. Sahara keeps her eyes from looking toward them as she opens her Advanced Humanities book for a distraction.

Tregisa leans over and tries to console Sahara, “Just ignore her. She is jealous.” Sahara watches Waizlynn and Brystol sit down next to each other a few tables in front of her and Tregisa. She sighs in relief that she will not be stuck sitting close to either of them.

“They are the perfect pair.” Sahara says callously.

“Tregisa.” The announcement of Tregisa’s name from Saitar Delovis causes the now full classroom to turn and look in their direction.

Tregisa is obviously nervous as she responds, “Yes, Saitar Delovis?”

“If talking with your table mate is an issue, I would prefer you exchange seats with another student.” Sahara is surprised by Tregisa being pointed out as the only one talking, because the entire classroom had just been abuzz with multiple student’s chatter. “Brystol,” Saitar Delovis clears his throat before he continues, “would you please exchange seats with Tregisa?”

The class begins to murmur in speculation while Waizlynn protests the situation. “Why should Brystol be punished? It was probably Pukey not Tregisa.”

“That will be enough Waizlynn.” Saitar Delovis says flatly before looking back toward Tregisa. “Now Tregisa, we do not have all day.”

Tregisa looks agitated as she gathers her things and Sahara looks up toward Brystol who dutifully does as he is told. She feels frustration and wonders why of all the students Saitar Delovis chose Brystol to sit by her. She remembers what Bularia told her about the aran telling Brystol to find her and help her. She wonders if the Saitar’s had been instructed to force the two together. Brystol sits down next to Sahara in silence. Saitar Delovis turns his back to walk toward his desk as he announces, “These will be your assigned seats for the remainder of the year.”

Sahara quickly moves her head in Brystol’s direction feeling in shock. She now is seated by him in two courses permanently. That just can’t be a coincidence. Brystol glances over toward Sahara briefly without expression before opening his book to the page Saitar Delovis instructs. She feels annoyed the entire class as they read about human ways, that she already knows all about. As they are dismissed, she looks over toward Brystol expressing her anger with the situation, “Why are they deliberately seating us together?”

Brystol seems caught off guard by her bluntness and looks around the room at the other students who are glaring at them. She knows she asked a bit louder than she intended, but she does not care. Brystol lowers his voice to a whisper, “You should go visit with Headoreon Shawdlortur before tomorrow.”

Waizlynn comes over next to Brystol and gives Sahara a nasty glare before she and Brystol leave the classroom together.

Sahara looks at the time, remembering she has plorksol practice just after lunch. There is no way she would have time to find Headoreon Shawdlortur today. Her questions will just have to wait until tomorrow after lunch she decides.

As soon as Beastism is over on Friday, Sahara searches for Headoreon Shawdlortur’s office. She takes a deep breath before she knocks on the door. “Come in Aranel.” Sahara looks around the hall in shock wondering if there are cameras. Suddenly, without Sahara touching the door it opens and she stares into the room in surprise. Headoreon Shawdlortur is standing beside his desk with Verdiwild.

Verdiwild smiles toward her as he speaks, “We were just about to send for you.”

Sahara moves in the room feeling anxious, “Why did you not tell me I was betrothed since birth?”

Verdiwild looks remorseful as she watches his hand move slightly causing the door to close behind her. Headoreon Shawdlortur raises a grey wand and begins to make small circles in the air causing a clear blue shimmery curtain to cover the walls of the office. Sahara is not sure what is happening, but she just watches in silence. “Now,” Headoreon Shawdlortur finally speaks, “No one can hear us.”

Verdiwild finally answers her question, “There was to be a proper introduction set up between you and your betrothed.” He points over to the corner of the room where Sahara turns noticing Brystol awkwardly smile at her. “This is Brystol Treegan, Cundu of Holestroy, though I hear you two have already met.”

“Yes.” Sahara narrows her eyes at Brystol as she says, “I am pukey. Lovely to meet you.” She returns her focus to Verdiwild. “Does he have to be here?”

Verdiwild and Headoreon Shawdlortur look at each other as if they are discussing the matter in silence. “Yes. He was to prepare you for this meeting.” Verdiwild says sounding as if he is scolding Brystol. “He seems to have failed his duty.”

“It is the first week of classes. I have been busy.” Brystol defends himself and Sahara rolls her eyes remembering how many times she saw him with his friends and Waizlynn after classes goofing off. “Besides,” he looks nervous as he continues, “how do you expect me to explain everything to her. She knows nothing of our world. It is going to take years for her to learn everything. Someone else should tell her.”

“That is a topic we will come back to.” Headoreon Shawdlortur says. “Aranel, todays meeting is to progress the betrothal.”

“No.” Sahara says simply. “I do not want to marry him.”

The room stays silent for a moment as the three ellons stare blankly at her. Finally, Verdiwild speaks and looks as though he is apologizing. “I know it is all a shock and new for you. We failed to get you here in time to fully prepare you. But the betrothal is not optional your Royal Highness.”

“Is there a particular reason you object to the betrothal?” Headoreon Shawdlortur asks looking curious.

“Besides the fact that the two of us obviously do not get along with each other?” Sahara snaps her eyes back toward Brystol for a moment looking for some support.

“There has to be a way out of it.” Brystol looks remorseful toward Verdiwild and Headoreon Shawdlortur.

“There is not.” Verdiwild firmly says. “And there will be no discussion on breaking it.” Sahara glances over toward Brystol again, who looks defeated as he sits down on a large dark green chair in the corner. Verdiwild continues, “It is expected that the two of you begin to develop a friendly relationship. Move past your differences and accept your betrothal.”

“And if we refuse?” Brystol asks, causing Sahara to begin to feel offended.

Verdiwild answers, “Your future will be unpleasant.”

“And the tri-kingdoms will feel the repercussions.” Headoreon Shawdlortur adds.

“Why are you here just for me?” Sahara asks looking at Headoreon Shawdlortur.

He explains, “Every elf in the tri-kingdoms has heard of your return to our world by now. Though Malorsty is the most secure location for you to be, there are many threats to you. You will be sought out by Patreek and his followers. His followers could be anyone and everyone. The other Headoreon and the saitar can focus on their own duties and securing the other students, but you need special attention.”

Sahara understands his explanation so she changes the subject. “So, I am in second year courses, forced to sit next to him for appearance’s sake?” Sahara asks as she jabs her finger angrily toward Brystol.

“You are in second year courses, because you are advanced in those two areas.” Headoreon Shawdlortur answers her question. “But also, because you are expected to complete the four years in three.”

“Three?” Sahara asks in surprise. “Why?”

Verdiwild steps forward as he speaks, “You turn eighteen, six months before what would be your fourth year.” He looks over toward Brystol and it causes Sahara to follow his gaze. “Cundu Brystol will need to be married before his nineteenth birthday, which will be three years from tomorrow. You will be required to do your royal duties once married and will have no time for your studies.” Brystol keeps his eyes away from Sahara’s and she feels annoyed by his presence as she turns back toward Verdiwild who continues, “You will need to use the summer breaks to get ahead and complete courses.”

Sahara notices Verdiwild and Headoreon Shawdlortur seem reluctant to speak as they glance toward each other. She knows there is more. “And am I required to sit next to him in every course?” She refuses to look toward Brystol again.

Headoreon Shawdlortur plainly speaks, “It is the Aran’s order.”

“He orders us to sit next to each other?” She scuffs.

“He asks,” Verdiwild explains further, “the two of you get to know each other. And not call each other names,” He looks scoldingly toward Brystol, “or be rude to one another. You are each other’s future, like it or not. Finding a mutual respect would make things more comfortable. Yes, sitting you together is the aran’s order since you both have shown unwillingness to get along and become better acquainted.”

Headoreon Shawdlortur sounds consoling as he speaks, “You are not being asked to fall in love, as that is rarely obtained with betrothals, but to simply respect one another.”

Sahara feels helpless as she tries to process what her life is now becoming. She never dreamed she would be a princess and much less a princess betrothed to a horrible prince. Her thoughts are broken by Verdiwild clearing his throat from nerves before he speaks, “The reason we are all here...” He pauses and looks briefly over toward Brystol before returning his eyes to Sahara. “Is that Brystol’s sixteenth birthday is tomorrow, and you are currently both fifteen.” Sahara wonders why that is important as her heart quickens. “We had hoped to have more time to prepare you for all of this and get you more familiar with our world, but under the circumstances.” He pauses again, “There is a custom we must conduct.”

Verdiwild moves over behind the desk, removing a key from around his neck. He slides the key into a large wooden box that sits on the desktop. He pulls out a scroll from the box that is rolled up and sealed with a golden ring that looks like a feather. “The aran has sent me to conduct the priminal binding.”

“The what?” Sahara fearfully asks taking a few steps backwards, “I thought we had until we were eighteen?”

“The marriage takes place after you turn eighteen, Aranel. The priminal binding must take place when you are both fifteen after your magic has emerged.” Verdiwild explains. “It is the first step in fulfilling the betrothal.” Verdiwild moves around the desk with the scroll as he looks toward Brystol, “Cundu.” Brystol stands dutifully to his feet and walks over next to Sahara. Verdiwild stands just a few feet in front of the pair. “Take each other’s hand.” Verdiwild instructs them but Sahara pulls her hand back from Brystol’s attempt to comply.

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