— Aster —

Today began like most days, with the sound of gentle music. This was a sound that I was quite familiar with, a nice gentle alarm to get me moving in the morning. That never worked how I hoped, as just like every morning, my hands shot out turning my alarm off, and my heart racing in fear that someone had heard it. There was no real reason for that fear, I wasn’t late, and my parents were usually gone by the time my alarm goes off.

With my heart beating fast I sluggishly sat up and rolled out of my bed. Normally I would just put on whatever was clean in my dresser, but this day was different. Today, was graduation, and for that, we needed to wear the traditional graduation attire, a long white tunic, and homespun brown pants. My mom took this to the next level, taking the term homespun literally, making them herself. I always thought it was strange to were such an old-fashioned outfit in our modern age, but the tradition was weird.

Finally, I would be free. No more isolation, or being left behind. I would actually be able to make my own decisions instead of having to do whatever I was told. If I could have left last year I would have, but I had to wait for graduation. I didn’t blame my friends or parents for the last year. In fact, my parents are great people who love spending time with me. The only thing is this place had suddenly started to feel too small and restrictive for me. Especially in the last year, I felt like I couldn’t do anything I wanted, and when I tried I felt like I was being judged. It may have all been in my head, no one said anything outright, but I could see it in their eyes, and their offhand comments may not have meant to hurt but struck hard nevertheless.

I shook myself out of the spiral I was going down and focused on today. That cheered me up and I put on the tunic and pants, finding the feeling of the fabric a little rough. From there my routine was just like every other day. I grabbed my bag, opened the door, stepped outside, locked the door, and began to walk towards the school. Just like every other day.

Except for today, was different. Today, I did something I never do. I looked back at the place I spent the last eighteen years of my life. There it stood, same as always, a little blue two-story house with a slightly overgrown garden, tiny pond, and a large mimosa tree over the entrance. Pieces of my life were held there and it felt almost bittersweet to be leaving it behind. It felt even stranger not knowing if I would see this place again. I gave it one last goodbye, before turning back to continue my long walk to graduation, only to trip over my own foot and hit the ground. “Ow.”

I got back up and wiped any dirt off, from the fall, and headed off. It was a long walk through the winding cobblestone streets, and my mind began to wander on the last year and what today really meant. Today was the culmination of our education. Like every other school, our final year was battle training to prepare us for the outside world. That was the rule. Seventeen years of education, one year of battle training, graduation. And then you get to go off and get your class. I still don’t even know what I’m going to pick. I bet James and Bay picked there’s last year.

If this year has taught me anything though, it was I was terrible in a straight-up fight, actually, that might not be right as they only ever let me fight once, and I won. I was of the personal opinion that instructor Bora didn’t know how to teach me, she was just so…slow. It just didn’t work for me. Because of that what took everyone else two weeks to learn, took me six months. It was so much harder after those two weeks because I was alone. Six months of kicking the air, punching the air, jumping in the air, looking at air, just air. It was so boring, apparently, I kept losing focus. Bora was completely determined to prove she was right and that I just wasn’t trying. Normally, she wasn’t bad but you could not tell her she was wrong. She seemed to think the slower I moved the more ingrained the move-set would be. She was completely wrong. The only times I could move right was when I was moving fast, and he didn’t even let me demonstrate.

At one point Bora was forced to let me spar, and I use the term loosely. She only ever let me spar with her and even then she never let me move more than a snail's pace, knocking me down if I ever tried to move faster. There was a single day that made me feel validated that he was teaching me wrong, a man named Thorn gave me that chance. It was a glorious day. He was an ass.

It wasn’t until the last week that I actually got to fight someone different. I forget the student's name, but I don’t think he knew who I was. Though, I don’t think the kid cared, since he completely ignored my greeting and just attacked. It all happened so fast I moved by instinct spinning my foot right into his temple knocking him out. This was my only fight with another student, the only fight I won, and the fight where I got in trouble for hitting too hard.

This fight also reinforced Bora’s thoughts that she was teaching me right. Because she thought he was teaching me so well when they brought me back to ask about the fight. She berated me saying I could have pulled the kick easily, and just tapped him. That was what I was supposed to do. How was I supposed to know? This was my first real spar, and there was no way I would have been able to stop, but no matter what I said they wouldn’t listen. I took a deep breath to calm down, thinking about that ass of an instructor… you know what he doesn’t matter anymore. What’s past is past.

I had been walking on autopilot for the last twenty minutes, so after gathering myself I took a look at our small town, on the outskirts of the city. It was a small place, with a few stores, and houses. Everything you expect to find in a small town, not much. It was a place where everyone knew everything about you, even though you’ve never met. Taking in the surrounding I was happy to find I was only five minutes from my destination. Seeing that my pace began to speed up as I turned a corner just a little too quickly, and stumbled into an empty construction site. There was precariously placed equipment that I ducked and dodge under. I decided to have a little fun and used the equipment as a little obstacle course.

I began to run jumping over a work table, diving through a cement tube, and having to grab the scaffolding on the other side, dodging the unseen rebar. I quickly made my way on the other side, heart beating out of my chest from the near-miss. I could only laugh as I kept moving.

My heart was still beating fast when I stood to inform of my school. Big, blocky, made of brick, just like every other school, but this was not my destination. Today I would be going to the temple. The temple was technically part of the school, but it was far enough away that it might as well not be. I turned and made my way down the hill to the east of the school, and up the valley towards the temple, cresting the hill I looked out with awe.

Every time I saw this place I was awestruck, not by the temple itself, but by the scene it seemed to paint around itself. The temple stood at the top of another hill, it was a huge, circular structure made from quality brickwork, stone, wood, and plaster, with built-in columns. Its patchwork of styles should have made it look shoddy, instead, it only accentuated the features of each material. That was only part of the picture as what made everything unreal and the otherworld was the flowers, thousands upon thousands of white daffodils. I was standing where the flowers began with only one or two here and there. The amount steadily increased the closer to the temple until there was no grass only flowers. A sea of white seemingly makes the temple glow. The flowers themselves held some kind of magic as they bloomed year-round, even in the snow. This was the only place in the entire city the flowers grew. I may not like the town itself but this…this I will miss.

I stood and looked at the scene my racing heart having nothing to do with my recent run. I moved and with every step, the flowers began to dance. It may have just been the wind but I like to think they were greeting me and wishing me luck. Man, I’ve been alone for way too long. I let out a self-deprecating laugh as reached the entrance. I turned and gave thanked them for their little show. The flowers just kept swaying and dancing in the wind.

Before I went in I checked the time on my phone, “Time to spare.” With my hand on the door, I softly pushed it open, making as little sound as possible, hoping not to be noticed. The door opened wide enough for me to see inside, and found that I had nothing to worry about, the entire room was empty and felt even larger than it was. The space was designed for hundreds of people. Right now the only thing in here was me, a small podium, lots of chairs, and a really creep red door behind it. It was strange to call a door creepy but it wasn’t just its looks. Five meters tall, solid metal with ornate banding that looked like tentacles. Or the designs near the bottom that looked like roots burrowing into the stone. No, it was the feeling of dread you felt when you stared at it too long, like it was judging you and if found you wanting.

Looking away I was surprised I really was the only one here, not even a teacher to great us. It was a little unsettling. Not wanting to leave I decided to find a spot out of the way and wait for everyone to show up.