“Did they really have to rearrange our entire class schedules?” I ask Akari as I look down at the printout I’d made of my new school schedule. It’s almost wholly unrecognizable from what it had been just last week — the only remaining part being my archery class with Mr. Yamamoto at the end of the day.

  Akari nods from where she sits beside me on the stone bench outside the school, considering her own printout. The sun is just beginning to rise on the day, and the flow of students into Silver Ridge had only just begun. We still have around an hour before the first bell rings, as I’d insisted that we go and find our new classes before school starts.

  “Most of these classes are taught by teachers I’ve never heard of,” Akari says with a frown. “I’m not sure why they need to give us new teachers for things like History and Math.”

  I run my hands along the cold stone of the bench as I lean back to take in the sky through the glass of the eco-dome. The sky is a pale blue color today, streaked with the grey clouds of a storm system starting to roll in — we’ll probably get rain today.

  “I wonder if it’s because that’s not actually what they’re going to be teaching. They did say that the Sanctum Collective will be holding classes for us. I’ll bet they just moved us into some special sentinel program they have going on at the school,” I comment, continuing to watch the clouds move across the sky. This storm is certainly going to be a big one. Hopefully, that means things will calm down a bit while everyone takes shelter.

  “That makes sense,” Akari says before pulling out her phone and shaking her head. “Where is Baylee anyway? She said she’d come early with us to scope out the new classrooms.”

  I sigh, sitting straight again and glancing over at Akari. She bounces her foot nervously — or perhaps impatiently. The same drive that had gotten both of us to arrive at the GDF Orientation early has us irritably waiting on our less punctual friend. I suppose we should have been more specific than “early.”

  “She’s probably doing her makeup,” I complain. “I don’t see why, though. We’re stars-damned sentinels now. It’s not like we really need it.”

  Akari turns to me, aghast. “Serena! When did you start swearing? I thought the goodie-two-shoes blue sentinel was above that kind of thing.”

  I laugh, “I’ve always done it in my head from time to time, but… I don’t know. Must have been a bad habit I picked up from Audrey or Kayne.”

  For a few more minutes, Akari and I just sit outside the school, talking and bickering good-naturedly. The eco-dome truly is a beautiful place to be. Despite the chill in the air, the space here is bursting with life. Gardens and trees litter the outer edge of the eco-dome, looking just untamed enough to make me believe that the school is in the middle of an actual forest. Birds chirp happily and flit around inside, often flying right up to us and other students on the benches to try for a snack.

  There’s an amazing serenity to just sitting here and enjoying my time with Akari. It almost makes me want to leave Shinara for a time to go hiking or otherwise spend time outdoors. Nowadays, those kinds of pursuits are considered dangerous due to the risk of volcora lingering in the uninhabited areas around the city. However, unless we get profoundly unlucky, we should be fine as sentinels giving it a try.

  Eventually, our moment of serene calm is broken by the arrival of Baylee, walking through the entrance to the eco-dome like she owns the place. Flanking her are two familiar figures, Haruto and Claire.

  I sit bolt upright in surprise, I knew they were trying for a transfer, but I guess they’ve already gotten it done. With a happy smile, I hop up off the bench and jog over to my teammates.

  As I move, enjoying the wind in my hair, I consider how quickly I’ve come to love these people. In such a short time, Baylee, Akari, Haruto, and Claire have become the friends I cherish more than any other in the world. Perhaps fighting together will do that, or perhaps it’s just that they are the ones who understand what I’ve gone through better than anyone else. They lived it with me, after all.

  Bounding up to my team members, I stop at each one of them to offer a quick hug. Starting with Claire, who seems just as enthusiastic as I am, and ending with Haruto, who gives me that — I’m not a hugger — half hug that people like to do.

  “Hi, guys!” I exclaim happily. “Have you seen the school yet?”

  Around an hour later, Claire and I sit side-by-side in our new homeroom class, which we happen to share. The class only has 10 students in it, one of which, much to my eternal chagrin, is Troy. Everyone else in the classroom also looks vaguely familiar to me and it doesn’t take much effort for me and Claire to deduce that all of these students had attended the GDF Orientation with us.

  My mind spins with the fact that there must have been classes like these, made up entirely of sentinels, at Silver Ridge all along. How many sentinels have I walked past in the hall without ever knowing who they really were? Well, I suppose that’s the point, though, isn’t it? Now that same anonymity is offered to me, I can learn from both normal teachers and teachers specifically sent by the Sanctum Collective at the same time — all without needing to worry about my identity as a sentinel coming out.

  Eventually, my identity will come out; I’ve done too much switching between rest state and assault state in the field for it not to. Plenty of people have seen me outside of my assault state while also knowing I’m a sentinel. It will only be a matter of time before one of them spreads a rumor, but I’m hoping it's later rather than sooner.

  The classroom is abuzz with the murmuring of students as our homeroom teacher — a portly balding man in his late forties — awaits the bell to officially begin the school day.

  While we wait, I sketch absently in the margins of my notebook. I’ve been stressed recently, and I haven’t really had time to just let the tension out. Last night with Akari helped, certainly, but I feel the need to just take some time for myself today — to draw and draw until the fear goes away.

  Drawing is a skill I picked up from my mother when I was very young. She’d been an artist of great skill, although she never really made much money off of it — the whole starving artist thing. Either way, when I’d been young and having nightmares or childish fears, she’d taught me that drawing what I was afraid of could help. Seeing something drawn out in the light of day helped me realize that it wasn’t really that scary after all. The terror of the memory would be snatched from my head and placed onto a page where it couldn’t bother me any longer.

  Back then, my art had been crude and rough. Over the years, I’ve picked up the skill and refined it, but I’ve never quite been able to replicate the master’s touch Mom had.

  I bite my lip as I finish my sketch and sit back in my chair; one would think me a horror artist from the nightmares I just put onto the page. As it turns out, the reality of the Volcora is far worse than anything my imagination as a child could throw out.

  Looking at the page, I swallow nervously, the tension in my chest only tightening rather than growing looser. The mind flayer’s horrid eyes haunt me from within the sketched lines of its face, my mind producing images of bodies and gore splattering wet asphalt. That screeching wail it had emitted upon dying seems permanently wedged in my memory.

  I crumple the paper and stuff it in my bag — well… that didn’t help.

  Huffing a breath, I allow myself to listen to the conversations taking place outside my little internal world. And… yep, that was a mistake.

  “If you think you’re so tough, pretty boy, why don’t we have a go? I bet I can take you one-handed!” Claire exclaims, waving her remaining hand, which flickers occasionally with red lightning.

  Troy, because of course it was Troy, sits glaring at Claire. “Just because your team got a guided tour through an incursion to get some sub-ranks doesn’t make you better than anyone. In the end, you're still just a dirt-poor girl who happened to end up with a familiar. No one thinks you’re special.”

  As I watch, red light begins to bleed into Claire’s eyes, and the flickering of crimson lightning starts spreading to the rest of her body. This doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere good.

  Gently, I reach over and place a hand on Claire’s shoulder. Her eyes turn on me the second I touch her, but her aggression starts to fade almost immediately. Almost imperceptibly, Claire nods.

  Troy turns his annoyed glare on me — as if, by calming Claire, I’d entered myself into the conversation. “At least you make sense. The princess of the archery team would end up a sentinel. I just wish they’d give the rest of us the same advantages you’ve had.”

  My eyes widen at his words, and my nostrils flare with annoyance. “Are you calling that incursion zone an advantage?” I ask, a trace of heat lacing my words.

  Troy shrugs, glancing at his cronies, who must be part of his sentinel team. “Isn’t it? For whatever reason, your team is getting fast-tracked. I don’t see how that’s fair for the rest of us.”

  I close my eyes, “Troy… thirty-one people died in that incursion zone. Claire lost her arm… I got impaled. Trust me when I tell you… you do not wish you were there. Just… be grateful for having the training time you do before getting sent into hell,” I say, my voice trembling as I speak.

  Troy, to give him some credit, has the decency to look ashamed. Still, his expression hardens. “All the more reason my team should have been there to support yours. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad.”

  I open my eyes, giving Troy a long, searching look. That response had almost sounded… empathetic. I’ve never expected that from him.

  I offer a slow, sad nod, “Yeah… maybe.”

  At this Troy looks away from me and Claire, turning back to his teammates and starting a softer conversation.

  “Sorry, Serena,” Claire murmurs from beside me. “I was really wantin’ to throw him through the roof.”

  I smile, “It’s Troy. If we can get through a day without wanting to hurt him, it’ll be impressive.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Claire nods before her eyes fall. She looks down at the notepaper on her desk with a kind of angry helplessness. I notice that her pencil sits on the right side of the paper, placed there to be in easy reach of her right hand… if she had one. Oh… I hadn’t even thought about how she’d manage to write if she had been right-handed before.

  Another surge of anger washes through me. Maybe Troy is right. Even if our familiars are special somehow, why should we be the ones to suffer all of this burden? Why shouldn’t the other sentinel teams in our generation be helping us? If they had been there, maybe Claire would still have her arm.

  It’s like what Dad said last night. My team and I are being moved around like pieces on a chessboard — Karma forcing us into fight after fight so we can get stronger. All for this desperate hope that we can somehow save the city… but how can we? It’s taken sentinels like Kayne dozens of years to get to their current rank. Even if we push as hard as we can for this entire year, I can’t see us getting past C Rank and into B Rank.

  So, what is the general planning? What is the purpose of trying to get us to grow in strength? It has to be something to do with the special nature of our familiars, a nature Celeste still refuses to tell me about. It’s incredibly frustrating to be pushed to my limits again and again and never even be told the full reasons as to why. A large part of me wants to get out of class, take a tram over to the GDF, and demand answers.

  The bell rings, cutting off my mental tirade before I make any decisions. Our new homeroom teacher, who’d been standing by his desk with his hands behind his back, claps with excitement, quieting the room.

  As the man walks towards the front of the classroom, he taps a button on the corner of his desk. On his command, a series of small inscriptions begin to glow on the walls — basic sound suppressing inscriptions, I realize.

  “I am Professor MacCorkindale!” the man booms, loud enough that I swear the sound suppression inscriptions flicker. “I realize that can be a bit of a mouthful, though, so you can call me Mac.”

  For a moment, everyone in a group of almost a dozen sentinels sits and stares at this man wide-eyed. Sentinels we might be, but stars, this man is loud.

  “This,” Mac continues, “will not be the same as any homeroom class you’ve had before! I am here to help you learn the basics of being a sentinel. Your other new classes will cover their subjects in depth, but here, we will cover a variety of subjects shallowly. This will allow you to find what you are most interested in and focus your attention there while also informing you about the culture and philosophies around sentinels.”

  Mac pauses, looking around the room. “Before we begin, do any of you have any questions?”

  “Yeah…” Troy comments, holding his ears and looking pained. “Are you going to talk this loudly for the entire class? I have enhanced senses, and my ears are literally ringing.”

  The professor stares at Troy for a moment before walking over to his desk, yanking open a drawer and producing a pair of packaged earplugs that he proceeds to throw haphazardly at an annoyed-looking Troy. For a moment, I feel a pang of sympathy for the aggravating young man. I’ll offer to heal his ears after class.

  “Any other questions?!” Mac booms, the volume of his voice having not lowered in the slightest. I’m mildly amazed this man hasn’t had a sentinel accidentally shove him off a building yet.

  For a moment, I hope someone else does have a question… a long, lengthy question that will give my ears a break. I wonder if my assault state shield would block some of the damage to my eardrums… Sadly, I’m not supposed to be using my assault state again until Thursday to give my mana toxicity a full chance to reset.

  “Very well!” Mac continues. “This week, we will be covering how sentinels are viewed by society, as well as your new place in society. Please pay attention, as there is a lot to cover, and we will have a test on this next week.”

  Once homeroom — blessedly — ends, I have two more classes to make it through before lunch.

  A biology class taught by a professor from the Sanctum Collective who has been studying healing magic for years is the more interesting of the two. The class size is extremely small, consisting of only me and two other blue sentinels from the generation before mine. They’re already significantly more advanced than I am, but the professor takes her time to explain everything in fine detail so I don’t get entirely lost.

  Next is a history class that I’m surprised to find is taught by Prof himself. This one takes place in a lecture hall as almost the entire sentinel generation is in attendance. Rather than history, however, Prof goes over tactics, working with our soldier contingent, and general team coordination and strategy. All of Team Picnic sit together for this class, although Baylee is the one who pays the most attention.

  In each and every lecture, sound suppression inscriptions in the room are activated to prevent other students or staff from easily realizing that the lectures are not teaching standard material. I’m sure the other faculty know, at least a little, that sentinels are being taught in the school, but they very likely aren’t allowed to know the contents of those lectures. While I’d been a bit disappointed that the inscriptions in Mac’s classroom hadn’t been just for him specifically, it does make sense.

  Once classes are over, our team groups together to head for the lunchroom and pick up our food. The room has a massive skylight that normally lights the entire place with streams of sunlight, today however, all that can be seen through the skylight is the gloom of the dark clouds far above. This leaves the massive room feeling darker, and more somber than usual.

  Despite this, lively conversation still fills the lunchroom as students either stream away to get food off-campus or head towards the lunch line. Although we all have the money to afford to go off-campus for lunch with our new paychecks, the food Silver Ridge serves is much better than that of the average high school, and none of us are too fussed about trying to get something elsewhere.

  With our food acquired, a fragrant dish of spiced white rice and chicken, we head for an empty table to sit down. As we settle at the table, I feel a pang of loss. I love my sentinel team, but I have to wonder if me sitting with them every day will drive away people like Benny, who I’ve been sitting with for years.

  Evidently, I needn’t have worried as Lyra, a member of my archery team, spots me and proceeds to practically drag Benny, Vahn, and Kenji over. This fact leaves the table we sit at rather crowded, but I smile happily at my archery team as they settle in and chat with my sentinel team. Finally, a bit of that tension within me begins to loosen.

  I feel safe here; truly and properly safe. My friends are all around me and I’m happily ensconced in my school which also happens to be one of the best protected places in all of Shinara. For a moment, I just close my eyes and enjoy the sensation.

  A few seconds later, a hand is laid gently on my shoulder, and I turn to find Benny, having taken the seat beside me, watching me with concern.

  “Serena… are you alright? You didn’t answer any of my texts this weekend or on Friday,” he says, his voice soft and kind.

  I offer Benny a smile, “No, but I think I’m going in that direction.”

  I don’t lie to Benny… I won’t. As children, we’d made an agreement never to lie to each other, and while I feel that boundary had been skirted from time to time, it had never been broken.

  For a moment, I see Benny not as he is now but as he’d been on the day I first met him. He’d been sitting alone at a table, just eating his lunch and minding his own business, when I walked past him with my tray of food. It was my first day at Silver Ridge, and I was all kinds of nervous interacting with the rich and important people I'd imagined going to school here.

  I remember seeing Benny as I walked past, worrying about making friends and fitting in. Benny had looked so sad sitting there by himself, and so I’d simply plopped myself down next to him. Normally, I’m a complete nervous wreck when talking to strangers, but that day, I’d been strangely calm — like I’d known, even then, that this boy would be one of my best friends.

  Now, looking upon my friend, I can still see that old sadness leaking from him. His life force seems dimmer today, and to my eyes, he resembles a flower that had begun to wilt.

  “Are you okay, Benny?” I ask gently, looking into his eyes. He must be feeling off again today.

  Benny smiles but shakes his head, “Every day is a new adventure… I just wish I could choose my character.”

  I huff a laugh, “Agreed.”

  Both of us return to eating in silence for a moment before a massive crack of thunder shakes the school with a boom.

  My eyes go wide, and my heart seems to stop in my chest. I need to move; I need to act! Something is terribly wrong! Power begins to swell inside me, my nature as a sentinel demanding that I shift to face the danger! I need to-

  “Serena?” Benny asks, looking at me with wide, concerned eyes. “What was that? You look terrified.”

  I shake my head, I’m not there… I’m at the school. It’s safe here; it’s only a normal thunderstorm, it isn’t-

  With a cacophonous bang, a sheet of powerful rain slams into the top of the eco-dome far above, followed quickly by another clap of rumbling thunder. I let out a soft squeak of fear and close my eyes, resisting the urge to shift.

  It’s just a thunderstorm; I’m safe. Calm down, just breathe.

  “Serena… you’re trembling. What can I do?” Benny asks, looking around at the others for help.

  Baylee, sitting to my other side, looks to Akari with concern in her eyes. “PTSD?” she asks, voice soft.

  “PTSD?!” Benny repeats, wrapping an arm around me in an attempt to stop the tremors running through my body.

  My heart is a frantic jackhammer in my chest, and my eyes dart around the room, making sure to check every corner and rafter to verify there isn’t a volcora hiding in their shadowy nooks.

  Baylee nods, forcing a calm expression onto her face — none of my teammates look comfortable with the rainfall. “She went through a traumatic experience recently while it was raining.”

  Benny keeps frowning, “But… it hasn’t rained recently, has it?”

  Another clap of thunder shakes the school, and for a moment, I can’t hold back the need to shift. My eyes and body begin to glow as the shift slowly starts to take me, but I shove it down as hard as I can and am barely able to stop the shift from happening. The effort required to hold back the shift only makes me tremble harder and brings tears to my eyes.

  Flashes of images play before me, corpses in the street, blood mixing with rain.

  Akari leans over and whispers something to Baylee who quickly nods. “Sorry guys, we’re going to take Serena to one of the rooms with sound suppressing inscriptions. Hopefully it will help,” she says.

  Benny stands up, keeping a careful hand on my shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”

  Haruto stands as well, towering over the smaller boy. “There’s no need. We will protect her.”

  Benny looks down at me, worried, then glares up at Haruto. “Parden, but I’ve been best friends with Serena for over five years. I’ve never heard her even mention you all. I’m going with, and I’m making sure she’s safe.”

  For a moment, Haruto and Benny trade glares. Baylee stands raising her hands, “It’s fine, we all just want to help, Serena. Let’s just go and-” she winces at the sound of another clap of thunder, “get her away from the thunder.”

  With that, my team stands along with Benny and quickly begin whisking me off towards the same lecture hall Prof had used for his class — leaving the rest of my archery team behind, looking baffled.

  Mentally, I reprimand myself for my behavior. I’m a stars-damned sentinel! I can’t be crying and shaking because of some rain! My body doesn’t seem to want to listen, though; my heart races, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from shifting and summoning my bow. I want to fight back! I want to run! I need to do something!

  Before I realize it, we are slipping into the lecture hall — which is luckily empty — and Akari is dashing to the front to press the button that would activate the sound suppressing inscriptions. Moments later, the sounds of the rain, like thousands of tiny fists pounding on the eco-dome, fades away to nothing.

  I slump to the ground, my chest rising and falling with heavy gasps, and the tremors running through my body start to subside somewhat.

  Beside me, Celeste materializes herself and scampers around me in frightened circles, flapping her wings impotently.

  [I don’t understand what’s wrong!] Celeste exclaims in my mind, and likely that of the others. [How do I help her? Is she hurt?]

  Moments later, Liora also fades into existence, seeming to attempt to calm Celeste, although I can’t hear her words. Whatever Liora had said, though, doesn’t seem to have calmed Celeste at all as she rushes over and presses herself against me.

  Absently, I run shaking fingers through Celeste’s silk-soft fur, even as more familiars begin to appear around the room — Benny watching with eyes wide with amazement.

  Verne, Haruto’s turtle-like familiar, appears by Celeste and seems to be trying to calm her by conjuring flickers of green barriers around us.

  Claire’s familiar, Blaze, also appears. He looks like a wolf made out of fire, but when he scampers over to me and Celeste, his fur doesn’t burn but instead just feels vaguely warm.

  Finally, Viera appears. Baylee’s familiar is bright pink looking like some sort of hybrid between a bunny and a fox — her ears are comically large.

  As familiars and my friends press in around me, along with the absence of the sounds of the storm, my fears start to fade away once more, embarrassment taking its place. Did I really need to make such a scene? Stars, this is mortifying!

  “You steady there, blue?” Claire asks, watching me nervously. Her hand fidgets nervously with the skirt of her school uniform — something she’d complained about endlessly as her old school hadn’t required a uniform.

  I take another moment just to calm my breathing. “Yeah… I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just… sorry.”

  Baylee lets out a breath. “Honestly, I don’t think any of us were comfortable with the sounds of that storm. We get it.”

  “You…” Benny starts, looking around the room with awe. “You’re sentinels… all of you…”

  Oh… right. He’d seen our familiars and had almost seen me shift. This is going to be an awkward conversation.