I’ve always been nervous on the first day of class, but this nervousness was next level. I was about to enter a class full of advanced water-wielding, fire-bending (yes, I watched Avatar) Astrals, who were years ahead of me.

I hesitated in front of the classroom doors. My stomach ached in a way I knew to be nerves. I bit my lip. And then a warm feeling came over me. Like I had been standing in the sun and the warmth had settled just below the skin. I’d felt this before when I’d summoned Ophiuchus—well, not exactly the same. That had felt like light rushing through me and emerging into this world. This felt more like a hug—like a you got this sort of thing. Could the Constellations communicate like this with their chosen?

There was so much I didn’t know, and I guess I never would if I didn’t step through the door. I reached out one hand and pushed. The door swung open easily. In front of me was an amphitheater-style classroom, with constellations etched into the stone near the ceiling. At the front was a whiteboard and a small desk for the teacher, which made for a weird combination beneath the ancient-looking inscriptions above.

The students were spread across the seats, but the cavernous room was mostly empty. It was a small class, around 10 people, where everyone seemed to be around my age. And tucked into the corner by himself was Castor, fastidiously not looking at anyone.

“You going to stand there staring or are you actually going to go in?” a cocky female voice asked from behind me. I jumped and turned around to see a tall woman in a leather jacket standing behind me. She had long black hair, with bangs framing two large silver eyes that would have been distractingly beautiful, if not for the fact that her jacket pockets were brimming over with still-growing flowers that couldn’t help but spill out.

“I’m not sure yet,” I told her.

“Well, take your time. Lord knows I don’t want to go in there,” the woman said.

“What, is the professor hard?” I asked.

“The hardest,” the woman said solemnly. We stood there for a moment until I felt too silly not to go in.

“I guess I’ll go in then,” I said.

“Brave choice,” the woman said. She held out a hand. “Name’s Nike.”

“Aris,” I said.

“Better take your seat then, Aris,” she said as she headed towards the front. “I dock points for tardiness.”

She’s the professor?! I wondered if it was possible to die of mortification.

Still unfortunately living, I had no choice but to slide into a chair next to a small girl, her pink hair done up in two space buns. She gave me an absentminded but warm smile, then slid her textbook between us, letting me share. Written on her notebook was Property of Poppy. A small spray of water spewed from the palm of her hand, upward like a miniature water fountain. She gestured and the water gently spilled into a small palette of water colors next to her. With a motion of her hand, the colors went spiraling from the palette onto the page in front of her, where she was working on a stunning sunset in various shades of purple, orange, and blue. 

“Some of you have been training your whole lives for this,” Nike said to the room. “And some of you are only just discovering your powers now.”

She didn’t look at me as she said that, but she might as well have. Half the heads in the classroom turned my way.

“But no matter your background, you are all equals here. You are unranked Astrals,” Nike said. Her voice commanded your attention—gripped you and made you listen.

“Without us, this world could have been destroyed many times over. By Dark Stars. By Phantoms,” she said.

Phantoms? The confusion must have shown on my face.

“Phantoms. Creatures created from dark matter that manifests in areas of great emotional trauma. They wreak havoc wherever they go. They must be eliminated immediately when found,” Nike explained.

“As you climb your way through the ranks, I hope you carry what you learn here with you. Someday it may save your life. You may never climb as high as say, one of the Twelve—“

“One of the Twelve,” the girl next to me, Poppy, whispered under her breath. Her awe was audible in every word.

“Who are the Twelve?” I whispered to Poppy.

“You don’t know who the Twelve are?” Poppy asked, scandalized. She leaned closer to me. “The Twelve are the strongest Astrals to ever exist. Together, they rule over all of the Sidereus Society,” she sighed “I would give my right arm to train with one of the Twelve. No, my left arm. Well, an arm.”

“You two done up there?” Nike said, looking at me and Poppy. We both sat up straight.

“Then let’s go to the gym.” There was something quite vicious in the way she said that.

***

The gym was a massive assortment of mats and mirrors, as long as a football field, and I didn’t know how far underground. Lined up along one wall were a variety of weapons: swords, bows, staffs—and weapons I’d never seen before. 

Nike had us line up in front of her, gesturing at us with her staff in hand. Next to her was a training dummy, in the shape of a man.

“Calling your Constellation should always be your last resort. You risk draining your energy—and if you pass out, your Constellation will fade away. Then—” Nike slammed the staff onto the ground. The class jumped. “You’re dead. So what do you use to fight? How do you defend yourself?”

Castor raised his hand. Nike nodded at him.

“Elemental power,” Castor said.

“Exactly,” Nike crowed. “So let’s see what we’re working with.”

She called Poppy up to her first. I watched, anxious, from the top of the line. Next up.

“Use your element to knock this guy over,” Nike said, slapping the training dummy on the back.

Poppy nodded and threw her hands out towards the dummy. She summoned her power. Water emerged from her palms and shot towards the dummy. The water hit the dummy—but it didn’t move. 

“Again,” Nike ordered. Poppy tried again and again—but the dummy didn’t move an inch.

“Enough,” Nike said. “How’s your detail work?”

Poppy took out her notebook and handed over one of her paintings. Nike’s eyes roamed the page. 

“Beautiful,” she praised, and it sounded like she meant it. “Work on your strong attacks. Next!”

I stood in front of Nike and waited.

“Knock this big guy right off his feet,” she told me, one hand on the dummy. 

I summoned my fire—and blew the dummy clear across the gym. It slammed into the wall and slid down the wall.

“You’re bringing that back over here,” Nike told me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I jogged across the gym. After I’d dragged the singed dummy back, Nike passed me a piece of wood.

“You clearly have the strong attack down. Let’s try detail work. Burn your name into this piece of wood.”

I took the wood—and it immediately burned to ash in my hands. Nike passed me another one. And I burned through it even faster than the first.

“Way too much power. Try reining it in—focus that power into a smaller flame, something that works for you rather than letting it overcome you. Next!”

I joined Poppy on the other side of the room. We watched while the others passed their elemental tasks—and with each passing student, I felt like more of a failure. 

Nike sent the others forward to work on weapons, while Poppy and I were stuck doing remedial elemental tasks. I had to make small balls of fire—smaller than I’d yet managed—and then pass them from hand to hand. I finally managed to make a ball, but it warped and pulsed, refusing to hold shape. Eventually, it popped, turning into a massive flame.

In contrast, Poppy was told to build a massive wall of water, as tall and wide as she could. Which, for her, was barely as big as she was. We shared a look of misery over our failures. 

I had to catch up. I had a feeling I didn’t want to find out what happened to Astrals at the bottom of the class. And if they kicked me out of here, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.