"Class dismissed!" an elderly woman crowed as her pupils stood to pack their bags, chattering amongst themselves with all the blissful enthusiasm of youth. Her bristly grey hair was pulled tightly into a braided bun. As her eyes fell on a certain student they narrowed. "Would Miss Nora Carlisle kindly join me for a moment?" she added.

The elderly professors cold, stormy eyes probed at the girl in question from behind her spectacles, watching her every move for signs of fleeing as she crammed her textbook and notepad into her leather satchel. Noting the vigilant gaze of her teacher, Nora surreptitiously dropped her fountain pen to the floor with a clatter. As a group of her peers passed in front of her heading for the door, she slung the leather strap of her satchel across her body and stooped to pick it up.

A group of her classmates chucked at her misfortune as they passed, well-accustomed to their teacher's futile battle against their habitually truant classmate. The trio was a group of averagely accomplished water mages. Not unusual for this school. Though mages were rare enough, making up only about a sixth of the population, water mages were certainly the most common in this town. That statistic, of course, didn't stop them from having a bit of a superiority complex.

The girls' hair hung in soft waves. The two on the sides had hair of either dull blue or a sort of peacock green that were common in these parts. The one in the middle had hair that was a pale, pastel blue. This color was less common, but extremely popular. Although Nora didn't know the girls from a load of hay, she assumed that the one in the middle, at least, must be fairly popular. Not popular enough to be worth remembering though, Nora supposed.

As the three momentarily obscured Nora from the view of her hawk like observer, the aged educator craned her neck in an attempt to keep her delinquent pupil in sight, but her efforts amounted to nothing. By the time the group of students had passed, Svenivelle Academy's famed escape artist had already disappeared.

Nora thrust her feet into the empty air that marked the edge of the cliff. Her gunmetal blue hair shook softly in the breeze as she leaned her head back, skimming her collarbone gently. Thunder shook the air around her. Intoxicated by the sound, she breathed in deeply. Damp, thick, and cool, the air here was more refreshing than the greatest elixir. Nora reveled in it. A wisp of the incense that she had lit at the nearby temple wafted her way, further increasing the pleasure of the moment.

Finding herself so calmed that her moment of relaxation was encroaching on slumber, Nora opened her eyes and peered out into the emptiness of the space before her. Grey. Nothing but grey mist for the entirety of the ten meter radius that marked her range of visibility. A streak of light traced its way through the clouds in the distance as another rumble of thunder pounded her ears, seeming, as always like it was coming from just behind her, supporting her from behind and pushing her forward.

In all honesty, it probably wasn't the best idea to climb the tallest cliff in the village in the midst of a raging thunderstorm, but that hadn't stopped Nora before and it wouldn't this time, either. She loved this place. It was her favorite place in the whole world, probably in all of them. She loved the feel of the cool dark grey stone that the whole place was carved and built from, always damp from those grey clouds condensing into little droplets and being absorbed into its greedy, smooth surface. She loved the fatigue that plagued her muscles in simmering waves as her bare feet stumbled to find purchase against the winding paths that were cut just a little too shallowly into the cliffside, as her arms tore at the ancient, corroded chains bolted (sometimes pitifully) to the wall that represented her only hope of reaching her destination safely. She loved the pleasant tingling burn left on her hands and feet when she pulled on the rickety chains and struggled to get her toes to grip the jagged mossy path and countless sets of steep and unforgiving stairs along the way. Mostly though, she loved the period of utter bliss that followed the perilous journey. It was the way the coolness of the stone sank into her weary muscles and bones and calmed the burns left by rusted chain and craggy stone. That very coolness sank all the way into her core, building a little nest of ice that calmed her heart and soothed her mind.

Nora supposed that this feeling of comfort was similar to that which was experienced by those who love the ocean and move amongst the waves like fish, but she just couldn't see the appeal. There was no thunder in the ocean, and it was too difficult to breathe. No matter how many times she went swimming with the other village children in her class, she still found it lacking, and time after time, she would make her way to the forgotten monastery in the mountains that surrounded their little port town, thrust her feet into that vast, grey emptiness, and bask in the comfort brought to her by the mist and stone.

Thinking back, 'little port town' wasn't really an adequate way to describe Svenivelle. It wasn't the largest port town on their continent, but that wasn't for lack of trying. The city could only expand so far with the sea to the east and mountains boxing it in from the other three sides. Instead of growing out, it had grown up. The once small fishing village had built itself right into the mountain, constructing towering stone buildings that could hold up even against the wrath of the sea. Held together by a complicated meshwork of stone bridges, the town had continued expanding out towards the sea with little solid land to speak of. The monstrous tide swallowed and exposed entire stories of the city with its ebb and flow, and as a result, most of the lower levels of the city were completely unusable from about dawn until dusk. These lower levels were a world of their own. Operating only at night, they were home to the wilder parts of the city. Bars and thinly-disguised brothels come to life as they are exposed by the tide, their cast-iron vault-like doors opening with groans reminiscent of the acts performed within.

To any half-decent parent, it was common sense to forbid their children from wandering these lower floors, but Nora had no such luxury. Her parents were nowhere to be found, and likely had no idea that the city of Svenivelle even existed, so Nora had to make do with parenting herself. Unfortunately, a large part of being responsible for oneself is securing a place to live, and for a young woman with few options for employment, the only residences within Nora's meager budget laid within the lower levels. It was perhaps for this reason that Nora found the abandoned monastery, nestled amongst the craggy mountains to the north and hidden within the clouds, so wonderfully appealing. Originally dedicated to the worship and study of some long-forgotten deity, it was currently heading steadily towards a state of ruin. Not a whisper of movement could be heard in the misty twilight of the once-grand hall. Here there were no shrieking women or raucous drunks. The walls here were clean and untainted by the sea life that marred every exposed surface of the lower levels. Most importantly, there was no persistent stench of fish and vomit.

Just thinking about the little charms of the lower levels had begun to give Nora a headache. She loved her mountain paradise, it was why she had gone to the effort of dying her hair in order to fit in and marked this world as one of her primaries. It did come with its share of caveats though. The school wasn't bad. The only person who really hounded her about her absences was that elderly hag whose name she couldn't remember. The living arrangements, however, left much to be desired. It was something that could be improved in time, but for now, it wasn't something that she wanted to put up with.

Then there was that hag that insisted on her attending classes. Nora thumbed a lock of her silvery hair. Maybe if she had picked a pretty color like the light blue that that probably popular girl had, the teachers might like her more. Maybe she would even make a friend or two. She knew that her appearance had nothing to do with her social problems, but it was nice to imagine that something so simple as hair color could make someone likeable.

She breathed in another breath of fresh, mountain air, and let the cold soothe her agitated thoughts. She decided right there that she would not return to her lower level tenement tonight. No, this night would be spent elsewhere. She pushed her brows together, and started into the the darkening grey mist as she pondered where exactly she would go. As much as she wanted to avoid it, it was probably time for her to visit home. That place may be full of annoying people, but at least it didn't reek of fish.

Nora closed her eyes and breathed in one last sigh. Browsing through her memories, she recalled the appearance of her bedroom. It wasn't the dingy space she kept in the lower levels. This room had a large window with pale blue curtains and smelled of lilac instead of fish. The large, plush, bed looked hardly slept in. In fact, the whole room had a sort of abandoned feel to it. Dust covered the shelves and dresser. The floor was littered with articles of clothing. Although the room was far from clean, it felt static, as if nothing ever changed.

Home was home though, and as alien as the room felt, it was still the room that Nora had grown up in. It happened without warning. There was no mysterious vortex. No flash of light, no clap of thunder. One second, Nora was dangling precariously off the edge of a cliff. The next second, she was gone.