Renaissance Academy for the Gifted

Althalos Cartwright

From the highest tower in Renaissance Academy for the Gifted, the grounds spread out before Althalos Cartwright, full of promise, and danger. It wouldn't be long until the school was to be filled with children ages 11 to 18, for the . . . the what year now? Althalos shook his head, he couldn't remember. Not that it mattered, time was a tricky thing, he of all people should know that. Turing from the window he crossed the large, oval room to what he liked to call the Wall of Time. It was full to bursting with paintings and photographs of students long gone. One would think that is must included each year’s previous group of students from the amount of work that hung there, but it was in fact an exclusive wall. It featured each and every True Gifted students that had walked through the doors of the Academy. And only the True Gifted.

It wasn't that Althalos didn't care for the more traditional gifted children, those that drew and sang and acted and danced, he did, more than he cared to admit, because they weren't part of the plan. Ah the the plan, what a tricky thing for Althalos, it had started as nothing more than a need he saw and now evolved into a full scale school. Renaissance Academy for the Gifted was started as a haven for children with extraordinary gifts, usual gifts, dangerous gifts. But above all superhuman gifts. The other children where simply a cover, a way for him to disuse the Academy's true purpose. But what was it's true purpose? Althalos wondered now days. In the beginning it had all been so simple.

But nothing in a True Gifted's life could stay simple, another thing he knew well. His own life was living proof of that. Althalos had started the school lifes ago, but what for? That was what was bothering him today, with a deep sigh he sat down in a plus red armchair. Protection? Training? A place to belong? These were all the things he wished to provided for the True Gifteds, but he wondered if that was all that was driving him. There had been offers of course. Dark offers. From people that were interested in these superhuman abilities. But he was beginning to fear that these offers would soon turn to force. Some people would be willing to do anything to get as these children, he knew this. But that was why he was here, to prevent harm from coming their way.

Althalos was still in his chair as the sun sunk over the horizon. The room was bathed in a deep red for a moment, and Althalos felt his eyes grow heavy. All this indecision was taking a toll on him. The last thing he thought before falling asleep was that he could have power, more power then he could ever dream of, if only he had the strength to do what needed to be done.

Teddy Nicole Morgan

Teddy was frantic, she would be arriving at school in only hours. They always arrived before dawn on September first. But not just her, all of the children at Renaissance Academy for the Gifted. It was something has puzzled her for her past 3 years attending the Academy. She saw no point to it, the school was exclusive she knew, but it was already so well hidden that surely arriving in the dark had nothing to do with keeping its location safe. And yet she couldn't help but wonder. Odd things happen at the Academy, she knew it, all the students did. The real questions was what. And despite her love for people, she tried to stay away from all of this, preferring to stay within her own house, art.

Her thoughts her interrupted as her parents car hit a large bump in the road. She wished she could be taking the train like some of the other students, or at least have better drivers for parents. It wouldn't be long now until she arrived at the one place she didn't feel like she had to "dumb down" her talent. She would be free to paint to her heart's content. Well almost free. There was still her other classes of course. But she would have time to think about that later, for now she needed some sleep.

Hours later Teddy woke up, the car was going much slower now, and she knew they must be nearly there. A few more minutes as she saw she was correct. Children in wearing different colored clothing wear gathering a the start of a forest. Those wearing light blue where member of her own house, green was drama, and the red clad children were in art. She couldn't help but notice how much the colors clashed. She was glad that the uniforms, if you could even call them that, as they were any clothing in the color of your house, need only be worn at the start and end of terms, school productions, and some holidays.

The car stopped on the now gravel road and she practically flew out of it. With a quick hug for each of her parents, she grabbed her luggage from the tuck, said "Yes" "I know" and "Ok!" to their contest reminders, and ran to join her friends. They would drop their luggage in a pile just inside the wood were the Care Taker would move it into the Academy and then make the rest of the journey on foot. Once they arrived on school grounds they would make their way to the dining hall to here the start of term announcements and welcome the new students, as well as feast, and then retire to their house rooms. They would be given the rest of the day to do as they please, and then on September 2, the fun would start. Teddy couldn’t wait.

Lucian DeCicco

Lucian stared blankly out the window of the taxi, internally humming with expectation. There was a smell of old leather inside the yellow car and stale awkwardness; the driver had self-consciously changed his radio to the classical station when Lucian's mother grandly announced he would be the next Mozart, and now she wouldn't stop chattering about the weather back in Italia. It all made him quite uncomfortable, but he was going to Renaissance Academy, and he would bare a walk over hot coals for the gleaming, immaculate instruments waiting for him, waiting to be played, waiting to breathe.

It took an hour to drive from the airport to the school, but when they finally arrived, Lucian felt it had taken days. The taxi driver hefted his three bags from the car, a briefcase, a suitcase, and another bag for his trumpet. A crowd of students had already gathered at the gate, where the forest began, stretching back in a shadowy expanse to the obsidian walls of the Academy.

Craning his neck to spot his fellow third years, he absentmindedly answered his mother's questions--You have your books, no? You have your brush, your paste? You have denaro, sì? After a while, she pulled him into a rough embrace. Then, stepping back, she regarded his placid expression.

"Come ti senti?"

Her hands began fluttering like caffeinated hummingbirds, fidgeting with his red tie, dusting his pristine uniform--black dress pants, burgundy shoes, white shirt: he felt quite overdone--patting down the gelled slick of his hair. Only on the first day and performances did he tolerate gel. He planned on washing it out the second he was inside the Academy's walls.

"Bene, bene, Mamma. Sto bene, realmente." Lucian kissed his mother's cheek, staving off her maternal fussing long enough to give her a reassuring smile.

"Sì?" she breathed.
"Sì, Mamma."

Eventually, she left, waving goodbye through the foggy glass of the taxi's window. Lucian deposited himself and his luggage beneath the shade of a large cedar, nodding to familiar faces and exchanging small talk with acquaintances. As he waited for the rest of the students to arrive, he couldn't help feel this year would be different than others in ways he couldn't perceive. It was all he could do to hold back his broad grin.