Cyrus Days's Story

4PM
The first day of school. Cyrus had waited, and waited, and it was finally here. His first day. He looked out the window as students began trickling in through the front gates. A few had turned up earlier, a few would turn up later, as he had observed in previous years. He watched as teachers directed new students to their dorms, handing out day planners and pamphlets.

Shortly, he would go downstairs to the common room and greet his fellow students, a task he felt surprisingly daunting. He watched the shapes of people skitter past for a few moments longer before flinging himself off the bed, shrugging on his coat, and leaving through the door, quickly moving his hand through his hair to flatten some loose tufts. He pulled the door closed behind him and quickly made his way down the stairs.

It had only been a couple of days since he'd moved into the dorms and he was already starting to become familiar with the place. Before he'd officially been enrolled, Ryan had only let him explore the dorms a few times; mostly between terms, when most of the students were away. It was annoying having to leave most of his things in Ryan's house though.

The fireplace was already lit. Good. He sat in front of the fire, warming his hands. For a summer day, it was quite cold. He probably should go out and greet students as they came in, but he decided to wait here, and greet anybody who bothered to come to him. The excitement warmed him more than the fire.

"Indeed I am." Cyrus replied. "I'm Cyrus. Junior night dorm president." He rose to greet the new arrival.
Unpromptedly, she greeted him back "I'm Vynce... It's my first time here." She said. Having met nobody yet, she was surprised to having run straight into the dorm president first.
"Nice to meet you." He held out his hand. "Have you got a room number?"
It took Vynce a couple of seconds to respond to the boy's greeting. "Nice to meet you too!" She said, grabbing his hand in an awkward attempt to handshake. "I haven't been assigned one yet..."
A person stranger than himself. Lovely. "You should have been given an ID card? Should say on that." He pulled out his own card to demonstrate, with the room number 14 printed on the card.
Vynce placed the sack she was holding on the couch, then quickly went through the stack. Spare notebooks, a bunch of leaflets she had yet to read, a bunch of books she was unfamiliar with... Then she found it: a transparent file containing a card that resembled his, and pulled it out. "Found it." She declared. She held the card out to her new acquaintance. "Is this it?"
"Yeah, that's the one." Cyrus looked at the card, tapping the room number. "Room 12." He said with a smile. "No last name?" He noted. In his head he was already trying to compile what little information he had. He'd avoid going through her head, for now.
"Thanks a lot!" Vynce responded, reaching out to grab her card again. Room number 12 it was. "Yeah, um, I never had one... I've been living with-" But she decided to shut her mouth and end it there. There was no need for her to expose her past life so hastily to people she's just met. "I never had one." She smiled back
Stranger and stranger Cyrus thought. "I see." He stared at the fire for a moments, unsure of how to continue. He only had so many topics of conversation. "Well...." His eyes began glowing faintly as one of the smaller logs in the fire flew out into his hand. He span it around a few times before asking; "What can you do?"
The log took Vynce by surprise, she flinched and took a step back as response to the fire launched towards Cyrus. But the question he raised bugged her even more. "What can I do... You mean like, in terms of school subjects? I'm good at Maths!"
He shook his head. "No I mean-" He threw the log back into the fire. "I can move things without touching them." Among a few other abilities "You'll learn quickly that everyone here has some sort of special talent. So, what can you do?"
She recalled his previous reaction to the torched timber flying out to him, how naturally he pounded it back without even thinking of it. She was standing here herself, in her bare white skin and staring at another person while in it. At this point, she could easily assume what was going on with this school, and judging by Cyrus' abilities, she could theorize what other students could, potentially, be capable of performing... Tasks of magic, or other extraordinaire, similar to her innate shapeshifting. It was the first time, however, that someone actually asked about her abilities without amy sort of interrogation going on. "I would love to." Vynce finally responded. "But I really can't within the school perimeter." According to the cab driver at least, but then again, she hadn't actually tested it. The familiar tingles started running through her veins on the spot, the skin trying to change to the appearance of Cyrus himself. However, there was no response from her brain, as if the gateway between her consciousness and her innate ability was somehow cut. "Yeah, I really can't. I was informed about this." Vynce disclaimed.
Cyrus stares at Vynce for a few moments. "Err.... sure." What absolute bullshit. He thought. "Well, I'm going to sit down. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." And with that he flopped back into his chair.
As he lowered into the chair, Vynce was left standing speechless in front of the fireplace. I totally disappointed him she thought, and having nothing more to talk about, she started making her way to her room. Just as the hearthy warmth of the fireplace began to fade, Vynce turned around to look at Cyrus and ask "See you later then?"
"I'd be surprised if you didn't." He smiled before closing his eyes to relax by the fire.

I looked to my right after a few moments to see whom I was sitting with, and I found several quiet people reading intently, discussing intensely, or sitting… incurvedly. Among them was someone, a young-looking, pale adolescent (though he seemed to be on the verge of ‘blooming into a handsome young man,’ as my mom would say), whose energy seemed to draw me toward him. He was someone important, someone with whom I could orient myself and get my bearings in this new, scary world. I put my bag on my lap and awkwardly scooted a few cushions over, as he was just at that awkward range where it was weird to get up to move to him but it was also weird to scoot over to him.

Nervousness clawed my belly, as this was my first impression toward everyone out there, but I put on a half-smile, and said “Hi, I’m Teriksa.” My bag was clutch to my chest, though not tightly so, as a shield against the possible social ramifications of my greeting.