The Academy: careful not to cut ourselves on jagged shards

Keira likes the Academy. In truth, as she breathes in the cold air, her eyes settling upon the miraculously beautiful flowers brought to life by Elimmire's power of Earth, she feels more at home than she ever has anywhere else. Perhaps it is a mark of a scholar, the way that the quiet feeds her soul. Keira is unlike her family. She finds no solace, no joy, no satisfaction in a battle field, or in a rank. All of these things are meaningless to her. Yet as she lifts her head, tilting it slightly so that her long, black forelock falls from her eyes, she looks upon Elemmire and finds herself intrigued. It is intrigue alone that keeps Keira from running. A creature of untamed soul and legs aching to be stretched, Keira must be fettered by her will alone.

Keira's eyes are bright as she notes the way Elemmire shudders gently against the passing winds, the way that her burst of spring sways precariously because of the chill. Keira wonders what it is like to gain a weakness. She is such a wild girl - used to wandering, to be fettered and tied only by her own physical weaknesses and limitations, given to her at birth. She cannot imagine inheriting chains and weak points. It seems foreign and unnatural to be anything but what she is - a wild horse with a long, tangled mane and a naturally beautiful face. It seems wonderful, too, and deeply intriguing, a pull that she both wants to defy and, at the same time, be lured in by. Keira, daughter of lightning and of water should be used to this concept, and yet, she is nothing like her family. Keira is as much a daughter to wind and earth as she is to Ichor and Seryth.

"All of the elements are strange," Keira says, lifting her head and feeling the wind brush her coat. She has taken a sudden affection to it, or perhaps, it had to her. And it is peculiar, the way the elements find their companions, or the companions find their elements. It is a process of choosing, of a sudden and immediate knowledge of belonging and truth. "This place, itself, is strange."

Keira is not inhibited as she says this, her tongue delivering the blunt truth softly, melodically. Elemmire is not wrong to compare her to a bird. She belongs to the Wolves in body, perhaps, but in spirit, Keira belongs to no one. In this sense, she is, indeed, similar to both the air and its inhabitants. For this reason, she lifts her head, her keen, glittering eyes focusing intently upon the summoned bird. Keira is fascinated by it, her eyes tracing the glossy feathers, fixing upon its talons and beak and outstretched wings. She is unintimidated, and stands contentedly before it. Keira breathes deeply, and imagines being able to glide upon the wind, just as she is able to breathe it in. She envies the Falcon, and admires it, too. Keira nods at Elemmire's words, taking them in while her eyes remain contentedly upon the bird's. "They are all connected," Keira says finally, when Elemmire has finished. "They rely on one another. It is a circle," Keira smiles slightly at this. "But isn't it all?"

And then the Falcon dives. Keira lifts her head again, this time to catch the burst of wind upon her face. And as though to demonstrate her point, her eyes lower to see that the wind has withered Elemmire's plants. It is peculiar, the way this land dramatizes the ways of the Elements. Keira only watches until Elemmire speaks again, this time, her voice warmer. Keira thinks, as she looks upon Elemmire, that her teacher is a true scholar. Something about her respectful, thoughtful inflection and her knowledgeable words convince the girl of it. And for a while she is quiet.

"I am bound to nothing," she finally offers. When she meets Elemmire's gaze, it is with the slightest of hints at a smile. Her eyes are unknowable as she pauses. "I want something to be important to me," her voice is pensively soft, her tongue surprisingly honest. In a way, Keira thinks, she wants to learn herself as much as she wants to learn about the world.

K E I R A