Snippet #2464935

Peridot made her way through the double doors, taking a seat at the very back of the left hand tables, as the Chatelaine had directed. She sat quietly through the Headmaster's speech, noting his peculiar lack of accent. She had lived in both Shadowtown and Aeolia, and had never met anyone who didn't have one accent or the other.

When the Headmaster brought attention the the subject of weaponry, Peridot, not for the first time, felt the loss of her dagger that she had always kept on her hip in Shadowtown. The worn leather handle had been too big for her slight hand, and the indents from the previous owner's grip had been too far apart. However it had been her father's, one of the last items her mother kept when she was forced to sell their home and most of their belongings. She had always kept the blade sharp and polished, until her step-father had insisted that a young lady had no use for such an object. She had made one last plea, before leaving for the academy, but her step-father still refused to give it back.

At the Headmaster's mention of the doors leading to and from the Academy, Peridot couldn't help but look at the one that led to Shadowtown, her old home. It would be so easy to slip through, leave this place. She could begin a new life, on the streets. She shook her head to clear away those thoughts. It had been so long since she was in Shadowtown, she had forgotten the layout, and with no money to start out with she wouldn't survive long. As much as she loathed to think it, Aeolia was her home now.

The Headmaster finished his speech and the room grew quiet. None of the first years seemed keen to be the first to introduce themselves. With a sigh Peridot decided it was best for her to go and get it out of the way. She stood, and turned to face the Headmaster.

"I am Peridot Zircon." Simple and concise, with no elaboration, she sat down again.