“Aren’t you so nervous? Or excited? Or both?”

Kestek glanced over at Wrija, forcing a smile.

“Of course I am!” she lied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Exactly!” Wrija beamed. “Oh, I hope we end up in the same group. Of course, Piklof’s top of his class, so I bet he’ll choose us both.”

Kestek inwardly winced.

She felt pity for whichever group she ended up in. She was a useless member, as she was a failure in her class.

Groups were to be made up of five members, and preferably of all different classes. The top students were advised to make their group as diverse as possible, which proved hard for certain species—especially Merrow. In fact, even though the choosing of groups was held near the coast so that merfolk could attend, they rarely showed up, instead making their own groups among themselves. 

Students were not required to attend the choosing of groups, seeing as some classes were most helpful when the student stayed in one place—such as teaching younger students or crafters like blacksmiths and glass-workers. 

But any student that wanted to travel and achieve greater things would be present at the choosing of groups, eager to be picked for a group so they could experience the world and maybe save a few lives.

Kestek had come in hopes that someone would pick her, but deep down she knew it was very unlikely. 

The top student in each class had their marks compared by the headcaptain of The Academy, deciding which order they would be choosing in.

Piklof was first to go.

And naturally, he picked Wrija as the first member in his group. Wrija had been at the top of her class for a short while, but she cleverly had given up the position once Piklof had become top in his class so they could be in the same group.

Wrija fluttered over to Piklof, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Kestek could tell that it was killing the blonde that she couldn’t thank Piklof with a kiss.

Piklof paused as he turned back to the students, apparently confronted by some kind of difficult decision. His eyes fell on Kestek, and Wrija beamed at her.

Kestek could see the dilemma.

If Piklof picked her, he would be adding a useless class to his group when he had the opportunity to select someone that could actually be helpful to whatever they ended up doing.

But Kestek was Wrija’s friend, and Piklof didn’t want to risk upsetting his girlfriend.

So Kestek did the only thing she could think of.

She shook her head, mouthing to Wrija, I’m sorry.

Wrija looked confused, glancing at Piklof to try and make sense of what was going on.

Piklof, however, looked relieved. He cast a grateful smile towards Kestek and chose a sprite boy from the hunter class, a warlock from the alchemy class, and an enchantress from the cleric class as his other group members.

The selections went on. The top student from each class picked four other students for their groups, excitedly hugging their friends, and some of them daringly choosing their crushes to join them.

Kestek felt her heart sinking deeper and deeper as the numbers dwindled and she had yet to be put in a group.

But she knew she had nothing to offer any of them.

I’m a failure, she miserably thought.

And then it was over, and Kestek stood there, keeping her eyes on the ground. She didn’t want to see the way anyone was looking at her—the unchosen one. 

“Now,” the headcaptain said, “these are the remaining four uns…”

Kestek froze, then she glanced up.

What?

Standing around the space was herself and three other students—a strong-looking elf girl with red berries sticking out of her dark green foliage; a stocky boy with a crop of curly strawberry-blonde hair, pointed ears, and orange eyes; and a tall, slender boy that had a wild shock of thick, black hair as well as oversized ears and silvery eyes.

Kestek gasped.

She had met that boy once before, a while back. He had come up to her and Wrija to ask if she knew anything about being an apothecary.

The expression on his face was hard to read. He looked shocked and angry and disappointed all at once, as well as… betrayed?

The elf girl seemed mildly dismayed, but also accepting of the situation.

The boy with the strawberry-blonde hair just looked smug, almost as if to say, Called it. 

“Is it just these four?” Captain Awre—the captain of the hunter class—asked.

“Yes. Just them.” The captain of the tailor-seamstress class nodded.

“That’s not enough for a group,” Captain Yuuf—the swordbearer captain—grumbled, leaning back in his seat. “There needs to be five in each group.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do with them?” the spellsinging captain asked, impatiently flicking her tail.

There was a moment of silence. None of the other captains of the many other classes seemed to want to get involved.

“Uhm, if I might, uh, talk...?”

Everyone turned to look at the elf girl that was one of the unchosen students.

“Go ahead,” the headcaptain said, gesturing for the girl to speak.

“I-I have a friend that’s the same age that could be the fifth member in our group,” she tentatively mumbled.

“And why are they not here right now?” the headcaptain inquired.

“Because, um, he dropped.”

Some students audibly gasped. The headcaptain’s eyes widened.

Then Captain Awre moved forward.

“Are you talking about Jelro Thwaullaru?” she gently asked.

The elf girl nodded.

“The boy was in my class,” Captain Awre informed the headcaptain. “If he agrees to join, I think that is a good solution. He is very skilled, but… he discovered he is a silvertongue.”

There was more gasping. Kestek was shocked. She had thought silvertongues were extinct.

“That… would make sense...” the headcaptain slowly said. “It’s unlikely that a silvertongue would want to be a hunter...”

“So, what do you think?” Captain Awre prompted. 

The headcaptain hesitated, thinking about the situation. 

“Go ask him to come here,” the headcaptain decided. “I will see what he is capable of and give a verdict then.”

“Go on,” Captain Awre said to the elf girl. “Bring him. We’ll be waiting.”

The elf girl started off, but the headcaptain cleared their throat, pointedly glancing towards Kestek and the other unchosen students.

“What are you standing there for? Please accompany her the way a group should.”

The three students hurried after the elf girl.

Kestek kept her head down, trying not to feel ashamed. She was unchosen, and now she was being put in a group with a student that had dropped out of The Academy?

She hung back slightly, still keeping up with the elf girl but unwilling to be the first to speak.

The tall boy, however, quickened his pace to fall in step with the elf girl—which wasn’t hard to do considering he was so tall and she was so short.

“So, we’ll be in the same group after all,” he said to her.

“Yeah! We can keep training!” The elf girl beamed.

“Exactly what I had in mind,” the boy said. He smiled and patted the girl on the head in a very brotherly way.

Oh. Kestek wistfully watched the interaction. They already know each other.

Deciding she did want to get to know the members in her group, Kestek turned to the strawberry-blonde.

“I’m Kestek,” she said, holding out her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Luss.” He ignored her offer for a handshake. 

“Nice to meet you, Luss,” Kestek politely said, awkwardly withdrawing her hand.

The boy snorted, which Kestek thought was kind of rude.

“Yeah, sure, real nice to meet’cha, too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets—which seemed a bit odd considering that he was wearing gloves. “What class are you?” he asked.

“Um.” Kestek froze, then she blurted out, “None, actually.”

Luss raised an eyebrow. 

“Was it that bad?” he wondered.

Kestek lowered her head.

“...Yeah,” she quietly said. “I chose the spellsinging class, but I...”

“Can’t sing?” Luss guessed.

Kestek nodded.

“I have amusia,” she admitted in a whisper.

Luss burst out laughing. Kestek glowered.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just--!” Luss doubled over. “How did you not know that before you put your name on the list?” he managed between snickers.

“I guess I just never realized how bad I was,” Kestek said, a giggle escaping her. Luss’s amusement was contagious. “I feel bad for everyone that had to listen to me.” She laughed. “Okay, well, what’s your class?”

“Merchant.”

“Really?” Kestek blinked. “But... you’re... you’re so...”

“Impersonal? Off-putting? Rude? Blunt? Unapproachable?” Luss grinned, crossing his arms.

“Yes?” Kestek ruefully smiled.

“Eh, don’t worry. I can turn on the charm when I want to.” He winked.

Kestek laughed.

“So, uh, what are you?” she carefully asked. 

“Huh?”

“Like, I’m a sprite. What are you?” 

“Uh, I’m a human.”

“No you’re not,” Kestek argued. “Your ears...”

Luss blinked.

“What about my ears?”

“They’re pointed.”

“Yeah—is that weird?” he countered. 

“Humans aren’t supposed to have pointy ears.”

“Hey, I don’t go around accusing other species of not being whatever they are.” Luss scowled. 

“Sorry, I just...” Kestek hesitated. 

She didn’t really want to think of Luss as a human. He seemed so much better than humans were, but if he was one...

“So, if you’re a sprite, you’ve got wing-es, right?” Luss questioningly glanced over Kestek. He fumbled with the word “wings,” slipping in an extra vowel sound before the S.

“Yeah. Not that I’m going to show you.”

Luss snorted.

“Figures.” He paused, then he cupped his hands around his mouth and said to the other two in the group, “Hey, so are you gonna introduce yourselves to us, or do we just gotta guess?”

The tall boy and the elf girl turned around.

“My apologies,” the boy immediately said. “My name is Shayrow Kyremour. I’m of the swordbearer class, and I am a dhampyr.”

Kestek stiffened. Dhampyres were the children of vampires and humans, but there was no telling how long ago that union had happened. Dhampyr children were always dhampyres.

“I’m Adif Agilaz, mwot,” the elf girl said. “Alchemy class, and I’m an elf. Shayrow has been teaching me to sword fight, though.”

Kestek smiled. 

Maybe Adif understood what it was like to want to do something besides her chosen class.

“I’m Kestek! Kestek Leiff. I, um, I was sorta in the spellsinging class, but that’s not what I was very good at. But, uh, I’m a sprite!”

“I’m Luss,” Luss said, cutting off any chance that Adif or Shayrow might question Kestek. “Human, merchant class.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Shayrow said, sweeping a bow. 

Luss turned away, hiding a snicker with a sneeze.

Kestek wished she could sneeze on command, but she also wished Luss would stop thinking everything was so funny.

“So, what is this friend of yours like?” Luss asked Adif. “Besides him being a silvertongue and all.”

“Well, his name is Jelro,” Adif said, “And he’s very friendly. He loves animals very much—so much that sometimes he forgets to take care of himself.”

“And he was in the hunter class?” Kestek inquired. “So he knows how to use a bow and arrow?”

Adif nodded.

“He’s a brilliant shot,” Shayrow said. “Never misses unless it’s on purpose. And he’s even more accurate when under pressure, amazingly enough.”

“Fascinating,” Luss said, his tone extremely bored and sarcastic. “Sounds like a real interesting guy.”

“You have no idea,” Adif huffed.

The group finally made it to the strange treehouse-shack combination, and Adif knocked on the door.

There was a dull crash on the other side. Adif sighed.

Then the door opened. A very distracted boy leaned out, pushing his mop of dark hair from his face.

And Kestek’s whole world turned upside-down.

~ ~ ~