Deep in the valleys of Calrithmo, was a school every parent lusted after for their child. It was the only school in the kingdom, where wealth didn't influence your acceptance. Syra was one such child. Neither of her parents exhibted magical ability and instead toiled for their living. So when Syra one day fell from a tree, and floated gracefully to the ground, it was a delight and curse to many.
She was the Daughter of Air.
Meaning she could bend the air to her will, and kill someone with the contraction of her hand. When the annual treaty was signed, it was obligatory for any magical children to be announced. Syra's parents were reluctant to let their only child go. But inevitably, she was whisked away to a school one could only dream off.
On her first day, a Son of Water tried to murder her.
She was walking casually down a path, allowed to venture free for the first time, when three figures stepped out in front. They were all boys, and a little older than her eleven years. Each wickedly handsome as the other, but wore cruel smirks that made her feel frightened and timid.
"Ahoy! Who goes there?"
"It is only I," Syra said with a shaky voice, bowing slightly. She didn't want to cause offense, when she knew bowing was essential for anyone more powerful than her. "Syra Degammon, from the lower village."
"Pond-life," the middle one wrinkled his nose. "We have a name for you."
"I am a Daughter of Air, kind sir, not pond-life as you put it. I am proud to be a Daughter of Air. We help Fire to fan it's flames, and have a peace treaty with Water. Earth is also very symbiotic with us-"
"Hush!" the one to the side, the tallest of the three, was livid. "You're even worse than pond-life! You're one of those pompous Air people." A wicked light shone in his eyes. "I'm surprised they let such a young one, venture into our land. They must've learnt their lesson after we killed the last Air."
Syra suddenly understood what trouble she was in. She twisted heels, and ran back the way she came. But they were after her. Their toying laughter rang clear, as they persued her beside the lake. Syra nearly slipped, but caught herself. The last thing she wanted, was to fall into a medium the Clan of Water had complete control over.
She screamed, when a hand wrapped around her hair. It dragged her to the ground, before a wild kick, sent her spinning into the dark depths of the lake.
She was drowning.
Syra tried to create a bubble of Air, to conserve her last breath. But she knew nothing beyond the prelimineries that she was briefed with. And that information, was the cause for her to get in this mess in the first place.
Why hadn't any of the Air people warned her about the Clan of Water?
Breathrun was taking a long overdue walk. As a sixteen year old student, he was constantly busy with arrear activities. The younger Airs continuely looked up to him as a pillar of strength, and although flattering, it was equally as damning.
He constantly had to be alert for any wrongs, and put them right.
Much like now. As Breathrun rounded the corner, he caught sight of a girl standing up to three boys. An impressive feat made even more so, by the fact she was 5 "3" and dwarfed in size. The girl was strangely ethreal. Claiming to be Daughter of Air, when it was well known, the Air Clan were all blond and fair. This girl had midnight black tresses, and a pointy little face with smudges for eyes.
Her colouring was unique and exquist.
Breathrun watched her suddenly turn tail, and sprint. If she was a true Daughter of Air, she would've caught a wind current, or better yet, flew. But there she was, limbs flailing, and looking panicked. This was the point where Breathrun would step in and intervene. But yet he watched, making no move to save the wispy little girl.
And suddenly the girl was gone, ripples spreading from the point she fell. The three boys skidded to a halt beside the rocky crevice, and stared down with excitement. They wanted her to resurface, so they could push her down again.
He waited a tick longer.
Why wasn't she coming up?
Mumbling curses to himself, Breathrun began stripping to the waist. A silver crescent necklace glinted around his neck, as he began racing towards the shore. A quick Air Blast, made by cupping the hands together and throwing it, caused the boys to fall like skittles.
Breathrun barely had time to glance, before he was diving streamline into the water. This was not his element. He could already feel the water trying to choke the life out of him. But he cast a pressure spell, and caught a dip some twenty yards away from him.
A white angel was coming to save her.
Blond hair swam in the darkness, as he reached out and clasped her hand. Two bubbles came out of his mouth, almost like he was scolding her. And then he was pulling her up, up, up, up, up...
The next thing Syra remembered was her shirt being ripped open, and hands pumping on her chest. She wanted to tell him It's okay, I didn't swallow any water but he replaced his hands with a kiss.
Her first kiss was being stolen by a stranger.
He wasn't even kissing her properly. Breathrun was holding her nose shut, and expelling as much air into her lungs as possible. Being the Son of the Air, he could revive almost any drowning victim. He pushed down so hard, he could hear a rib crack.
"Breath Daughter of Air," he commanded. "Do not let your element down."
Syra coughed up goblets of water. She turned to her side, and let the bile mixed with saliva flow across the floor. Breathrun took a sigh of relief, and immediately vowed to keep a closer eye on this girl.
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