“Looks like most of my classes are in Gold” I said as I read my schedule before I looked around at my room as I rose my hand and with a flourish and snap, my bookbag and various things moved about my room as they started setting themselves up. I didn’t have a list of books or materials yet, but I mean, this will be my fourth year of college, so I do have a good idea of what kind of materials I’ll need or want in terms of things like note taking supplies and other generic school supplies I may need, but who knows what I’ll need for magic school. My mind instantly went to stories and movies where I’ll need things like a broom, wand, cauldron and things along those lines before I was able to disregard those ideas with a laugh as I looked back to my laptop as I took a note down in my planner as I took down my class schedule to properly map things out in an hourly manner, there is a map of the school I’ll have to open up so I can physically map out my classes.

              Probably because of the nervousness or how I was feeling, but I got that feeling of coming rain, I looked up at my ceiling knowing that that cloud that looms above me constantly was probably getting a bit antsy, magic keeps nonmagical people from seeing the cloud, but I’m not sure it magic could make the house like dry if it’s under a perpetual rain. I closed my eyes as I leaned my head back, focusing on quelling those nerves as I more felt than heard a soft peel of thunder. I was able to stave off the rain, but…nerves are something that you’re never truly free of, but that’s a good thing, nervousness is a sign that something matters to you and that you want to do it well or make a good impression, nerves…they keep you humble.

              I stood up from my desk as I walked over to the windows, opening one as I sat on the sill, letting one of my legs dangle outside and down the backside of the house as I leaned back on the frame, looking up towards the midday sky above; the bright blue mottled with splotches and streaks of white, that rusty monolith of the Golden Gate just a stone’s throw away and the expanse of the city sprawling out in all directions, the baying caws of seagulls and the sound of traffic mixing in my enhanced hearing with the sound of wind, the surf and pretty much whatever else makes sound. It was a little odd constantly flipping between the city and Pearlbay, the city is so much louder, congested and almost claustrophobic feeling at times, but Pearlbay…despite being many, many times larger: it was quiet, the forest of skyscrapers never felt claustrophobic or congested, the air never smelt of low tide or garbage or smog, there was never that city din of car horns and other sounds found in a concrete jungle. Pearlbay was somehow both the antithesis and the perfect example of a city. It was interesting to think about just how different the two cities are when they exist as mirrors of each other, though Pearlbay is older.

              I looked down to my hands as that idea…a mirror lingered at the back of my head, I looked over to the floor length one to my right as those words Mom said replayed in my mind, “we’re shape-changers, it’s what we do best.” Maybe it was some part of my subconscious that knew that my school-life balance was an unhealthy one that is making me…act a bit strangely with the idea of Mystic, or it was part of my conscious that I hadn’t realized was there yet, but there was part of me that was using the change I had gone through, unlocking my magic and everything…as a further, more personal change: a fresh, new start, a new environment, new people and a chance to be…like everyone else in a way. It was always my dream growing up to follow in the footsteps of my parents by getting my degree from Berkely, I had always wanted to be an oceanographer or an astronomer growing up, something along those lines, but now that I had all of magic opened up before me…the options I had before me grew so numerous that I couldn’t count them all nor could I tell how many were feasible paths for me.

              “The weather” I whispered as I looked back up towards the sky, the weave hasn’t told me, more showed me that while it’s not really something rakshasha do, but something more personal, the source and root of my sorcery magic…was that of the weather: storms specifically. I’m not sure what about me would root me to something as chaotic and natural as storms, most people would not affiliate myself with either of those words unless “is not” was between my name and them. I’ve always been as studious, as organized and calculated as possible…even when I was a kid, so it mainly confused me why storms was the core of my magic. I rose one of my hands as my dark blue cloudy magic swirled as lighting crackled through it, the electricity rippled up along my arm as it hit my hair where it turned to clouds and the small bolts met each other, filling the air around me with the smell of ozone. “What is it about storms?” I asked myself and kind of the ether itself, the weave won’t give me direct answers, that’s not what it does, but…there was a curiosity there as to why storms were so important to my magic. I wasn’t born during a storm, nor have I had some traumatic or intense event during a storm…the best idea I could come up with was that the weave itself knew how kind of boring my life had been and decided to forcefully inject some chaos into my life. That’s probably my best bet for now at least. Mom explained to me about how the weave is in everything, anything and everyone, but the idea of the weave seeing me and thinking I need some chaos or unpredictability in my life was…it was equal parts amusing and concerning, but as much as it kills me, why storms…it’s not really a question I’m supposed to know the answer of. The weave chose it for a reason and whatever reason it had if for it to know alone and for me to just spend my life contemplating and thinking about. I’m not one to take something in stride, I am not a “roll with the punches” kind of person, I love schedules, plans, itineraries and everything like that, Mom said herself, I love a deadline…so, it was extremely uncomfortable to just kind of force myself to just go with whatever magic comes to me and all of those things, but I know that it’ll be better for me to do so than to go searching for answers I’m not supposed to have access to.

              As I looked up, that cloud that constantly hangs over my head almost dripped like some sort of slug over the roof as it floated out to beside me as I reached over, my hand dipped into the thick cloud as I felt static electricity entirely cover my skin as it deepened and darkened where I touched as a few flashes of blue light burst from within the dark clouds.

              “I’m sure you couldn’t tell me why the weave chose storms, right?” I asked the cloud, which obviously just floated there, it’s a cloud. It was much more solid to me than clouds should be, if I wanted I could probably sit on the cloud and ride it around like an anime character, it allowed me to dip my hands into it and manipulate the more cotton like texture of it as I turned to have both my legs dangling out the window as I pulled my cloud onto my lap and rested my arms on it, digging my elbows into the cottony poof as I rested my chin on my hands, looking out and just…letting my mind wander about…what my classes at Mystic will be like and…how I can be a me I like more while I’m there.