8 Chapter 8 : New Faces ( Part 1)

"Lizei"—the eighth month of the year—was the spring flowering season, when flowers flowered in all their splendour and dead trees and flowers sprung with new life as they arose, symbolising a new beginning.

It was also a period when young boys and girls would strive to enlist in magic academies in an effort to achieve great success in the future as they started a new chapter in their lives—one that was full of obstacles and youthful, innocent love.

I was on the ground floor, cleaning it like marble by washing it down and scouring it.

I cast a quick glance at the newcomers to the Academy, the young people. I saw boys and girls from all walks of life arriving with the hope of living successful lives as I watched them enter their respective classes, different looks on their faces, conversing and making new friends on their first day, yet ignorant that their lives were going to be cut short.

There will be a great deal of deaths, anguish over them, a lingering sense of loss and failure, seeds of fury and hatred planted their minds, friends becoming enemies, and a great deal more.

But then again, it wasn't a concern of mine because that was what it was on this world—a terrible fate created by the creator who passed away—a world so harsh that many young, innocent minds would twist in favour.

I finished cleaning, and it was time for me to travel to the auditorium with other things to attend as the headmistress was ready to make a welcome address to the new faces.The auditorium was enormous and had hundreds of seats. The teaching staff sat near the left of the empty principal's seat, while non-teaching staff members, including me, sat in the far right corners and continuously observed from the sidelines.

An elderly voice with a gruff tone said, "How are you, Narvi?" It was one I knew well.

"Good, as always, Mr. Blorak," I answered.

Mr. Blorak, the academy's head gardener and a close friend of mine, was here. He was a frail, elderly guy who had been employed by this institution for a decade. He was in his late 80s—an age at which he ought to have been relaxing at home with his family and not working here.

Blorak responded, "Good to hear," sporting a wrinkly grin.The only friend this frail elderly guy has is you.

I responded to Blorak, "Then I hope it won't be the only one," who had just made a quiet, frowning chuckle.

Then I asked him the question I had always wanted to ask: "Why are you still working at this age? Shouldn't you be taking rest and spending your remaining days with your family?"

He paused before continuing, his expression displaying a tinge of melancholy. Perhaps it was a bad idea for me to ask that.

"You don't have to respond if you don't like it." I said. "I apologise for asking something like this."

Blorak said, "Look, the students have come," as they poured into the auditorium and took their seats one by one. "Don't we have a lot of fresh faces now, Narvi?"

"We most definitely have," I answered his question, though I was aware that it was an attempt by him to get away from the preceding query I had asked. "I'm hoping there won't be another Marie Marisa; the current one is already problematic."

"Right from the moment you joined, that girl has been nagging you, right?" Blarak enquired.

"Yes, she has, and she certainly appears to love it, "I remarked, thinking back to each time we met. "It sometimes makes my job very difficult."

Blorak responded, "Regrettably, we can't do anything about it. We are, after all, poor people."

I remarked, recalling one instance, "It never ends well for the poor if they defy the wishes of the rich and powerful."

"You must speak from experience, don't you?" Blorak enquired.

"No, I simply heard it someplace; although I couldn't recall the name, it was a story about something that took place in a distant nation."

"I see. Tell me more about it." Blorak stated. "It would be a fun way to kill time before the speech begins."

"There was this one rich guy who was full of vanity and had nothing but cravings for women and pride in his authority."

"Rich people, especially rich men, are the same everywhere, regardless of the country." Blorak muttered in a slightly irate tone.

"One day, he ran across a stunning woman; black was her hair, her eyes were blue, she had a rose-coloured grin, and her complexion was pale."

Blorak listened in silence, but I could see that he had something on the inside of his thoughts since I could see his attentive countenance.

"The wealthy man desires her for himself and looks at her with greedy and ravenous eyes. So he sent his one of his men to find out more about her."

Blorak gasped with horror, "That's terrible."

"He discovered that she had a sick father and was in need. For whom she was attempting to get money for his illness' treatment." I spoke with a tone that was both melancholy and a little guilty. "So he made the choice to exploit her."

Then Blorak's angry and enraged expression and his brittle fists tightening caused me to halt.

"You all right, Blorak?" I enquired out of worry.

"I'm fine, but hearing this story just made me think of my daughter," Blorak muttered as tears slowly trickled down his wrinkled cheeks and fell from his eyes.

"What transpired with your daughter?"

"It's just like this tale. I had a beautiful daughter who was really kind and was trying to get money for me because I was ill." He carried on. "One day she said that a wealthy man had agreed to assist her, so she went to his place and never returned."

Oh, that's some coincidence.

"My apologies," I apologised. "I hope your daughter is doing well wherever she is."

Blorak wept tears from his crow's feet and eyes, saying, "I hope she is. Now look, the speech is about to start."

He was correct; the welcoming speech was about to begin as Edriva, the headmistress of the Academy, entered the auditorium wearing her favourite Grape-designed a-line dress.