Title: Fallen Glory

Rating: PG-13

Will Contain: violence, war, betrayal, teenage angst

Summary: Robinson Academy of the Arts is home to the most elite tutelage offered in the vicinity, as well as to some select students also known as Elements. As they continue trying to hide their magical abilities and just graduate, an old enemy from a war before their generation is building strength once again, leaving them no choice but to find each other and work together to take out this threat. But as unlikely as this group is, will they be able to do it?

Chapter 1 Summer

I'm not a bad kid. I just get bored. I mean, you have no idea how painful it is to sit in the same spot for almost two hours listening to some boring lecture when I could be doing something much more fun. Or maybe you do know what it's like and you like it. Then let me tell you something.

You're weird.

And you should probably go to the doctor and get that checked. I mean, seriously. How can you put up with it?

You know, you're probably confused and wondering where I was going with the whole "bad kid" thing, huh? So let me start over.

My name is Summer. I'm seventeen and I go to Robinson Academy of Torturing Teenagers. Or at least that's what my high school should be called, not Robinson Academy of the Arts.

Well, I wasn't sitting in an art class when it happened, though I don't think it would have ever happened if I was sitting in an art class. See, I love my art class, but Chemistry? Ugh. So. Boring.

Yeah, so I was slouching back in my desk, staring at the pristine white ceiling, and pretending to listen to my teacher. I swear, he drones worse than a 1980's air conditioner. Bored with looking at the ceiling, I stared around the room, gazing at the lame motivational posters, glancing at the assignments on the blackboard that I wasn't going to do, and watching the other students as they paid close attention to the teacher.

See, all the students in my class are a bunch of nerds. Where I'm chilling in my desk, resting my hands behind my head and propping my feet on the desk in front of me, everyone else, like good little girls and boys are sitting at the edge of their seats, leaning slightly forward as they take in every word that Mr. Nathan recites. Like I said. A bunch of nerds.

Eventually I got so bored I decided to have some fun.

Did I tell you that I'm a Fire? Maybe you don't know what that is. It means that unlike all these boring normal people, I can control fire. I can create it, manipulate it, and it's so awesome.

But there are rules. I'm not supposed to use it unless it's an emergency. I can only use my element at free will when I become a Master and my parents don't think I'm a Master yet. So, only on emergencies, and it has to be a dire emergency.

I was dying of boredom. That's considered an emergency, right?

I sat up and right away, Mr. Nathan turned his attention on me. See, he thinks that every time I actually sit up, something bad is going to happen. I don't know where he gets this notion from.

Honestly.

I'm a good kid, I swear.

I raised my hand, though I don't need to, because right away, Mr. Nathan called on me.

"Yes, Summer?" His voice had a slightly anxious and wary edge to it.

This amused me, and I slapped a grin on my face when I answered him. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

After a resigned sigh, Mr. Nathan said, "Bring me your agenda so I can sign it."

"I don't have it," I shot back. I don't see the point of carrying it around everywhere. In all reality, I only carry a little black knapsack that has just my sketchbook and a few art pencils. I don't need anything else.

An irritated hand wave was my cue that he wasn't going to try to argue with me and I was free to go. I was out of there in a flash with my stuff. I wasn't returning to the class, and we both knew it. The whole class knew it, really.

I did go to the bathroom, after all, but I didn't need the toilet. Instead I went to the mirror and checked on my hair while I waited for the girls that occupied the bathroom to leave. I have some downright sexy hair; I don't care what anyone says. It's red, orange, and yellow, like fire, and it's all natural, not dyed. Well, because I am a Fire, but I don't really care. It's cool and that's what I care about.

After making some minor adjustments, I nodded in satisfaction at my reflection. I keep my hair semi short and spiked forward, which makes a lot of people think I'm a lesbian. And you should see the disgusted looks I get because of it.

Personally I don't know what's wrong with being a lesbian. Girls kiss better than guys by a long shot.

Not that I would know, of course.

Finally, the girls left, though of course they couldn't do so without giving me a nasty look.

Oh that does it. I didn't do anything to them so that was completely uncalled for. Still staring at the mirror, my eyes narrowed to tiny slits. They're hazel, but they gleam brightly to almost a yellow sheen when I'm about to use fire.

Like they are now.

I wonder how they'll react when they find out their butts are on fire. I guess there's only one way to find out.