imouthaloliocn

About the poll--should the better answer be 'yes'--the given important information, power creep, and character status, will not be changed. Changes will be relative mainly to whatever the main character does, and whatever the main character's thinking. Since re-reading this after a few months, I've realized why some readers would assume and infer certain things from certain portions of this novel. So I've thought of rewriting those certain portions.

majority was 'YES'. [6] chapters currently edited. I'll keep the poll going for fun

'...'

Their calls were overwhelmed by the waves, swashing, washing the shoreline of its debris and a handful of wet sand. It returns time and time again, only to be removed once more. Removed day after day, from the ground it was found, and it dissipated into the boundless lake, bottomless, lost.

'Return.'

I savored the scent of the sea. I looked along the shrouding mist that lined the horizon. I've always wondered—what I could meet beyond the waters that held myself back. The waters that seemed to flow so freely, that seemed a place where I, too, could've flowed freely. But the waters pushed inward. The waters, bright and blue, pushed me back into the land.

'Back.'

The sea was a barrier that encompassed everything, battering the waterside every second, every instant. Barring my path.

A curious barrier that shaded the land against the mist that dawdled beyond the horizon.

I backed from the shore as I turned to return, my back turned to the boundless truth of what awaited past the shore.

...

But I turned to looked again.

...

And there I saw—a single, miniature form, that split the clouds above.

...

Flying so plainly above even the vast clouds that floated, too, without boundary.

...

I panned my sight along with its route. Free only to watch something I otherwise never had.

...

Because I heard the call.

...

"Return! Borealis! Come back."

She said.

...

"Y- yes."

I replied.

And I walked, step by step.

Every straw, that shaped my sandals, were interwoven through airless mud, and lifeless shards of seashell.

...

"Yes, Mama."

I replied, as lifeless shards pricked my feet, step by step...

...

The chairs were made of hardwood, supported by several metal rods.

Its seats were loosely overlaid in thin, heavy, leather that shifted along whenever I moved carelessly. A mild scraping noise could be heard every time it happened.

I looked around the corners and edges of the room as the others entered, following one after another.

Then I enthusiastically looked for the new set of papers that would've appeared after every passing lesson.

The papers, posted in every corner of the room. They were completely riddled, covered in an assortment of magical formulae. I always relished the quiet rustling of these posters, by the breeze that was welcome through the windows that lined the walls.

I looked through such magical formulae, curious and eager to learn, as the light breeze, icy and cool, gently grazed my face. My hair hopping happily, in the wind by which they were carried.

...

I watched as words were spelled, letter after letter, on the chalkboard near the front. A tap and scratch, every time I watched another stroke trail from the tip of her chalk. She wrote fluently, precisely, as the others talked amongst each other.

...

I watched in wonder as spells were constructed, word after word, on the field outside.

The field outside was rather big.

There were some targets. She told us. We would soon use these to practice spell-casting, aim and accuracy. Spell-casting was always fun, when I did it alone, brashly firing against dead trees, recklessly discovering a plethora of new spells.

But it was never fun at school.

'Strong.'

Because everyone else just had to mind—watching me, as if I were doing anything different from what they, themselves, were doing.

'Flawless.'

Everyone here was a bother.

...

As all the others were seated, and quiet, the freezing gale, dampened only by the barrier outside, continued to be received by the windows whose hospitality embraced anything in attendance.

The sky was dim. The blackened clouds, surging and wild, seemed indefinite.

As indefinite as what the others seemed to see in me.

They stared for a second and always, hesitatingly, looked away once more.

They proceeded to mutter and speak, as usual, in their little friend groups. Watching me spontaneously. Then looking back to their groups. As if nothing happened.

Their glances could've garnered any thought. Any range of thought I could've imagined. But I couldn't tell what—I only ever noticed their glances past the corner of my eyes.

I've never thought of looking back.

I didn't need to.

And they were annoying.

Like the others here.

Like everyone.

They were nuisances.

...

The chalk, in her hands, scratched the chalkboard, that mounted itself onto the wall. Every little tap and scratch refreshed my fatigued eardrums, alike the oppressive gusts of wind that welcomed itself through my skin.

It was this senseless refreshment that forced me to watch and learn.

It was unlike the scream of a fingernail, of ones' hand, that threw a cacophony of wails and ruin—the chalkboard was for the chalk that presented knowledge. Not for the nuisance whose presence was unneeded.

I would've not stayed, if the windows hadn't befriended the winds.

I had always—

Always wanted—

Always...

I returned my focus to the words that the chalkboard introduced.

The words that the chalkboard always flaunted...

...

History. CERULEAN CLAN. 73/2/511.

The Cerulean Clan takes its PRIDE in its COOLNESS. Like yours, sincerely. Your SENSEI. The one who shall bestow an unmatched wisdom, upon all that partake...

...Water and Ice magic. A cerulean power that sends CHILLS down the bones of all that face as such...

"Khh—!"

It was so embarrassing.

She was always so embarrassing...!

Embarrassing...

Did I really need to?

Did I really need to come everyday?

Every single day.

And every single day, I was coerced by knowledge itself—to face the chalkboard.

...

Class was a nuisance.

All I learnt—that it was not for the chalkboard.

The chalk was not.

Never—

—In her hands.

I felt as if it wasn't there when she scratched the chalkboard.

I heard—read—the wails, and the ruin. From every move she made with her fingers.

She was another nuisance.

...

She haughtily told us to call her, either 'Miss Ji.' or 'Greatest of All The Elders.'

She always called herself the 'GOAT. Elder.'

Haughtily. Arrogantly.

But I couldn't understand her. No one could understand her. Nobody understood.

What she thought, through that smirk on her face I could've never avoided.

No matter what I did.

No matter where I pulled my sight.

Her smirk was there, in the corner of my eyes.

Her smirk was there, beside the papers.

Her smirk was there, when I read the letters and words that came from her hands.

...

Social Status. 70/5/511.

Our lands are COLD to anyone. COLD to all who reside within.

But for a GENIUS, alike your SENSEI truly, the Greatest of All the Elders, it was a BREEZE.

Becoming a BREEZE carrying oneself HIGHER up the RANKS.

There is NO 'TOP' within any Family. GREAT ELDERS and ELDERS of a FAMILY take management during their MONTHLY COUNCIL meeting.

Members may directly follow any UPPER ECHELON (GREAT ELDER or ELDER) of their respective family, by CHOICE. And QUALIFICATION.

YOUNGLINGS, like all of you, may choose to follow any willing Great Elder or Elder, of any Family, during their educational phase.

Individual REPUTATION can VARY between each Elder, or Great Elder. Reputation is the MEASURE of FOLLOWERS under a Great Elder, or Elder.

Then UNDER them, those who follow, were the LOWERS and UNRANKED. Like all of you children.

These are divided in different ways, depending on the decisions made by the respective Family...

...

The sky was spotless, empty of clouds that seemed to shade this mint-green grassland dark. Void of its white summer sun. The leaves, rustling, as the branches waved, welcoming me day after day.

I waited long, trapped within the walls of the academy. Everyday. To come to this place. But it passed too quickly. It passes too quickly. Because practicing magic alone was fun. And it wasn't embarrassing.

There was nobody here, nobody to force me to speak an embarrassing chant.

I simply uttered what the 'system' said.

What they were named.

'Ice Barrier.'

The atmosphere was tinted blue as I began. The sky now a medium azure, the forest now a light cyan. The grass froze thinly underneath my feet, extending throughout the barrier I situated.

And the air turned cold. Disregarding the rules that summer seemed to set. The dome was piercing cold. Everything seemed to slow down inside—the ground halted in its movement, the unchanging monotone blue that colored the terrain, and the humid, spirited air that turned crisp and idle.

'Semi-Zero Field.'

'Combo Skills,'

And 'Combo-Casting' in this case.

They led to a vast array of an innumerable amount of different skills.

So I wanted to explore.

To discover what I could paint the lands with—with such a vast, innumerable amount of spells.

So I wanted more knowledge...!

'Semi-Zero Barrier...'

...

Magic 31. 32/3/512

A MYTHICAL ability that all may hold. But NOT all may use. COMBO-SKILLS and COMBO-CASTING.

A COMBINATION of several SKILLS or SPELLS. They may be achieved in quite a VARIETY of different ways.

Along with a FRIEND of yours, or with YOURSELF. A COMBO may be ESTABLISHED by means of casting multiple SKILLS or SPELLS in succession.

A blend, or INTERLINK, of either is POSSIBLE. Though, these kinds of interlinked combinations WOULDN'T be as LENIENT as I, your SENSEI, am with all of you...

...

The walls would've been as bland as the day, if not for the posters which continue to rustle in the wind unceasingly, adorned with magical knowledge.

But for a second, my vision thoughtlessly skipped away from the chalkboard. The sky was bland, empty of clouds that seemed to decorate the boundless wallpaper that loomed boundlessly, over anything that remained beneath its domain.

And for a minute the breeze—that had always breathed—was breathless.

...

The room was perfectly silent. The papers settling lifelessly, the windows hosting not a single incoming guest.

...

Just the taps and strokes of knowledge that I sought, in whole serenity. As such, I watched her along with the class.

...

Writing, and in her hand...

...

Magic 32. 33/3/512.

The ULTIMATE ability. The ULTIMATE COMBO.

COMBO-CASTING, as I, your SENSEI, has spoken the day before... Your SENSEI, the GREATEST OF ALL TIME.

So you better watch and learn...

A COMBO allows one to activate ANOTHER skill OVER whatever skills you interlink. A new skill, that REIGNS over ANY OTHER. But only if the combination you make doesn't SUCK.

BASED on your CONTROL over MAGIC, you could MANIPULATE your combo. Relevant to your 'Layer' of magic.

So here's the DEAL. An example from SENSEI herself.

[Water Blade] + [Ice Bullet] = 'Ice Spear' or 'Water Spear.' Maybe even 'Freezing Missile Blade.'

But of course, some combos may be difficult. But SENSEI is beyond even this realm, of course. I see those droplets of MOISTURE. COLD sweat.

Don't SHIVER. Your SENSEI wont be so COLD in front of you children. She can tolerate a single failure. But, from this, YOU will not be INSULATED.

For you shall face a BLIZZARD of difficulties. And soon. So would all whose lackluster luck has brought themselves against your SPINE-CHILLING abilities.

Lookie here... Keep a COOL head...

"..."

She wrote with utter confidence. Utter overconfidence.

It was, still, embarrassing...

So embarrassing...

As she always placed herself above anyone else within the room.

And the chalk, in her hands, produced a sound that seemed to reign over the silence about the classroom.

It was a sound that lulled my mind, as I watched her hair swim along the invisible current the air flowed by. Momentarily obstructing the words she wrote.

Through the unguarded gateway, the window that never shut. Anything that willed, passed freely...

But beyond the sound of the chalk, was her knowledge that she mirrored onto the board. A mirror that reflected the light of her knowledge through our pupils. Her light glare as she watched the room for a slight moment.

And still—nobody understood her. No one knew what she thought—past her haughty, arrogant stature.

And it was yet unavoidable. That grin on her face. That smirk that I couldn't see through;

That smirk I could never avoid. It accompanied the class, returning a day after another.

Time after time. That unavoidable grin.

That grin that flaunted itself before the corner of my eyes.

That grin that came about as she lay her arms unto the chalkboard.

That restless grin that always led to another sentence she wrote in 'sincere, unmatched wisdom...'

...

I walked, once again, through the grandiose gateway that stood itself above the village, before the colossal building which I went, seeking another point of knowledge.

'Cerulean Interfamilial Residential Academy.'

What the exaggerated sign read, as I listened to the blended noise of every footstep that approached the same destination.

Through the hallways;

Passing by the posters.

Passing by the others.

Through the decrepit hardwood door marked—"GOAT. Elder."

...

Magic 101. 28/4/512.

Final lesson.

Before your winter vacation.

Coming back—

...

She stood up, as the glaring sunshine reflected upon the metallic rods that held each table and chair.

Then the breeze returned for a final instant. The leaves swayed, outside the windows, as their branches waved...

...

—Just a thing to remember. While you're about to do so:

Take pride in your coolness...

And keep a cool head...

And thank you.

Thank you for staying in my class.

...

The white sun continued to shine into the room. Once again, the classroom was silent. Lifeless.

She stood at the front, watching the chalkboard, her right hand in place.

About to write another letter—

'Thank you. Alis.'

"...!"

My sight strayed from the board.

Settling upon her wrinkled face.

...

She glanced at me.

'Everybody else—'

And seemed hesitant to stare any further.

Before turning away, she looked back.

'See you next time—Alis.'

I tried to look away. I didn't know how to reply.

But as always.

Her smile was unavoidable.

"...Nnh."

As I did so, she blinked.

Then she returned, slowly, step by step, to her desk. Her back turned, briskly.

Her back turned, as if there was something she couldn't let me see...

And I, through the door—I left once more.

...

The wind was different on the pathway. It was unlike the classroom, where it carried a bare scent of boredom and embarrassment.

The wind traveling by the pathway was fresh, and carried the distinct scent of nature that surrounded the road.

I looked down to my feet, swinging forward every step I took.

As the crowd of others nearby, around myself, all strolled similarly to whoever was in front.

Until, eventually, they, too, dissipated into their homes along the path.

...

"I- I'm back."

What I first saw as I returned home was Mama.

She always seemed to await near the entrance, whenever I came back from school.

"Borealis."

"Thanks. Mama."

"...?"

She brought me to the living room, the earthy sense of wood engulfing my senses.

"For letting me stay in—with—"

On to the...

"Alis..."

"E- even though—they all s- said—c- called her—"

...

My throat, my mind, always seemed to open when I was with Mama.

Mama spoke coldly. With a cold, unsympathetic voice that seemed to criticize anything in its range.

But I understood Mama.

I knew that.

I couldn't tell how.

And I didn't know. Why I wasn't able to speak, at school. Because even with her—I couldn't.

My voice always seemed to freeze, as it tried to leave—it was always caged, halted, as it passed through my vocal cords.

Even though she was speaking to me—

...

...