The Academy: topsy-turvy into blackhole supernovas

Sky watches as wolf becomes fox becomes horse, and she is intrigued and amused by the flutter of animal changes as they set themselves into a divine procession, not any more unique than the passing of the clouds but somehow subjected only to the power of Elemmire, earthen mare of the Elements. The crimson mare’s lips curve into a smile as she utters a “good night to you also, teacher.” Moonlight creeps through the Academy on this warm summer night, leaving traces of whatever is left of the stardust that had fallen prior nights; but it is still not enough to linger in the closeness or the passive reality that learning is power -- and isn’t it? Red bleeds into black as the ground trembles below her feet, the crackle of lightning at the edges of the Academy but never daring to creep in with vineyard feet and grapevine hands.

She hesitates for a moment, uncertain of her pursuit -- Fire is what she once was, and is, and will always be. Water is the holy extinguisher of her self and her body. Earth is what slithers beneath her feet. And then exists Lightning, the tepid hands of her dead lover search the night and caress her cheek with withered fingers and she knows, she Knows that this cannot be the answer to her search. “Fire.” In accordance with her voice, the Element lets a bolt of light slither across the sky quickly like the predatory dash of the snake, and somehow it is enough for her as she reaches forward to brush noses with her teacher, inhaling the scent of wooded glens and cabins.

Another pause, and then, the fire within her eyes scorches the earth as her crimson coat glistens, yearning for the taste of power amongst the dead and gone. “Skywalker,” she finally says resolutely, “and incase you wonder... I choose Fire because I was Fire. I am Fire.”