Wiggin Academy and the Forbidden Curse
Chapter 8: The Fifth Symbol

Mako didn’t know if the distant plead was a dream or a real cry for help, until suddenly, she felt her body shake uncontrollably. “Mako, Mako wake up”-Mako’s eyes opened slowly as they squinted to block out the bright yellow light spilling all over her face. Her eyes felt groggy but the panic in Penelope’s eyes had more of her attention- “we’re late!” She shouted.

Mako jumped out of bed and got dressed as quick as she could. They both leaped out of the dormitory portal with confidence, but their little feet halted when faced against the stone halls and massive staircases- that lead to who knows where.

“What class do we have?” Penelope asked as they began walking straight ahead.

Mako pulled out the piece of parchment their prefect had given them. “It says, History and Origin of Alchemy,” Mako’s finger traced to the name under, her eyes widened at the name. “Professor Grimaldi,” she mumbled. They both shared a look of despair when they realized the first class they’re late for has the strictest teacher.

Their feet began to run a lot faster.

“I think this is it,” Penelope held onto her knees to catch her breath as they both spotted the brown doors with the plate number 204 hanging high on the door. They stepped in and found various students they hadn’t met last night occupying the dark oak bench tables. But before they could even wonder if they were in the wrong classroom, the door slammed behind them and a shadow covered their backs.

“You’ve decided to show up,” the Professor’s ironclad voice trembled through both of them.

Mako and Penelope both mumbled, “Sorry.”

“It won’t happen again,” Mako added quickly. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Take your seats,” Professor Grimaldi ordered. Penelope scurried off to an empty seat. Mako could only find one seat in the far back, so she chose that seat.

“Before we were interrupted-” Mako groaned inwardly- “what were we discussing?” Professor Grimaldi asked the entire class. Mako slipped into the bench next to a familiar kid, when a student at the front answered proudly.

“We were discussing the four alchemy elements, Professor.”

“Correct, Ms. Ainsley,” Professor Grimaldi praised as she reached the front board, that had many notes written neatly with matching diagrams, but from this distance Mako could only see large pictures and curvy scribbles. She looked around and saw Penelope quickly scratching in her notebook while looking at the board.

Mako pulled out her book and began squinting her eyes to get a better look or pray that her eyes miraculously become telescopes. She drew the bold white star on her blank page and then focused her eyes again, when suddenly, something nudged her elbow. The boy that always seemed to be wearing a black turtle neck under his uniform was sitting next to her.

His black beady eyes glanced shyly at her elbow, when she followed his gaze, she saw neatly stacked pieces of paper with black precise letters swirling around on the page, they were notes.

Her eyes brightened with relief, the boy’s pale skin flushed pink. “Thanks,” she whispered, he nodded and went back to listening to the Professor’s distant voice.

Mako quickly sketched the diagrams and the familiar symbols that was taught to them in pre-school. But the star one was new, instead of four elements it had five; one symbol for each point on the star. The upside-down triangle was water, the up-right triangle was fire, then there was earth that was also an upside-down triangle but had a line across the middle, and lastly air, which was up-right triangle and had a line through it; pretty simple. However, the fifth symbol was a circle, and it was labeled spirit; Mako never heard of that one before.

The class went on with Professor Grimaldi explaining the four elements and their main strengths and weaknesses. But she stayed away from the spirit alchemy, Professor Grimaldi mentioned black smoke here and there but didn’t go into detail; not that that was anything new. Mako over time had come to realize that talking about Black smoke users was like discussing a dirty gossip rumour or revealing a skeleton in the closet.

Suddenly, a loud bell tower chimed through their class. Professor Grimaldi knew that sound because she instantly closed the book that was open in the palm of her pale hand.

“Alright students, that’s the end for today,” said Professor Grimaldi. “I expect all of your review sheets to be done by tomorrow.” Simultaneously, they all got out of their seats and bowed to their Professor like they’ve been taught since they started school back home.

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