Long way from home (Sol)

[YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED]

Early September 2022

At first, Yas had been immensely disgruntled that her parents had sent her so far away for school. The least they could have done was transfer her to Uagodou, but no. They had to send her to this hot, humid, wet corner of the world that was probably better off forgotten. Though, Yas did have to admit that the colours of the rainforest in which the school was hidden birthed great inspiration for her artistic side. Yas had never been particularly shy, but there was something immensely overwhelming about the South American school for magic. The walls were enchanted so that all languages spoken were shared, but Yas still felt uncomfortable knowing that the professors were speaking a language she hadn’t yet mastered.

Eager to escape the daunting walls of Castelobruxo, Yas wandered into the surrounding protected rainforest, keen to spark her imagination. The transition here had been harder than from Egypt to Britain, but perhaps that was because she’d been younger. Infinitely more malleable. She struggled to find common ground with her classmates, but maybe that was what her parents had wanted. To break her so she could be tamed.

Huffing indignantly to herself, Yas pushed through the lush tendrils of both magical and non-magical plants, muttering irritably to herself. She stopped abruptly at the cracking sound of a broken branch and looked around. She was definitely alone. She looked up, and spotted the source of the sound. ”What are you doing up there?” asked Yas before she could stop herself. She didn’t even know if the language enchantment worked outside of the walls of the castle, but the girl hanging low in the canopy seemed more than at home with nature.

Marisol Leandra Lobera Navarre

[Marisol Leandra Lobera Navarre]

Early September 2022

Sol was moody. The problem was, she always seemed to be these days. At first, it’d been a simple observation from her cousins or her classmates. Watch out for Sol, because she’s in a bad mood today. But nearly a year after Fenrir’s attack had left its mark (very literally), describing Sol as moody seemed to be less of an unusual occurrence and just became an everyday fact. Like noticing that it had just rained last night (again), that Castelobruxo had won the regional Quidditch championship game (again), and Sol was in a supremely bad mood (again). In fact, it had become such a routine for Sol to scowl at everything and everyone that even her mother had pulled herself out of her usual detached distance and noticed.

And instead of receiving the normal sort of punishment for being a nuisance, her mother had done something worse. Sol had climbed a tree (there was nothing special about this one except that the school was out of sight and therefore all her classmates were too), and she sulked as she reread her mother’s letter for the millionth time. She’d been so excited to realize her mother had written her, but only with the news that she had half-siblings (on her father’s side, whoopee). And now she was expected to meet one of them. Sol couldn’t deny the morbid curiosity at what Rhys Greyback might be like, even though she’d already decided to hate him. But there was still that annoying voice at the back of her head that wondered what he might be like and what he might be doing at this moment (what did curse-breakers even do?).

She closed her eyes and imagined a dark tunnel. Then her mind began to paint hieroglyphics and strange runes on the walls, although she didn’t particularly know what they might actually look like. Cobwebs hanging off a burned torch still attached to the wall. And spiders? Sure, Sol added some spiders to the mental picture, scuttling along the corridor just outside the dimness of the light. She kicked up her legs, snapping a few thin branches until she found something more sturdy, and could almost imagine the musty air clinging to her skin when a voice cut across her daydream. Sol opened her eyes, shimmied until she was on her stomach, and leaned over the edge to see who could possibly have called up to her in English.

It figured that the new kid wouldn’t have heard the warnings to leave Sol alone until she got over her perpetual bad mood. She’d grown up on American TV shows, and her accent wasn’t too bad as she answered. “Treasure hunting,” Sol replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Still, there was the teeniest kernel of truth in her comment, if only because she almost wished she was off in Egypt and not here. Along with her stupid older half-brother who probably did everything in the most annoying and douchey way possible. She tilted her head to get a better look at the girl and didn’t miss a beat in returning the impertinent question. “What’re you doing down there?” she asked, crossing her arms so she could lean her chin on them and get more comfortable.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED

[YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED]

Yas had decided that yes, her parents had sent her away from her home and comforts to break her, and yes, they suspected they would succeed. Well, she simply wouldn't let them. She wasn't born a genius like Yara, or perfect like Yrene. No, she was born to see things in a different light, but her traditionalist parents couldn't see the value in that. Yas stomped through the plants, not caring about the racket she was surely making. That is, until she heard the crack of a tree branch and she looked up to find a girl.

Before Yas could stop herself, she questioned what the girl was doing up there. She replied evenly, if sarcastically, in English - Yas recognised the movement of her mouth and realised that she actually was speaking English. "So, the translation enchantment doesn't reach this far out then," she deduced, rather proud of herself for such an observation.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, the corners of Yas' lips turned up. "Same as you," she shot back. "Sulking." It was simple enough to see. Yas may not have known much about the school, the location, or the inhabitants, but she did recognise the displeased set to the girl's brow. It was similar to the one her own face bore. Yas looked at the tree, and placed her hands on the smooth bark, searching for holds. "There's probably some charm for this," she muttered, managing to scale about a quarter of the tree before falling down again. Yas didn't know why she suddenly wanted to climb the tree, or to engage this girl in conversation. Maybe it was that she felt that she had found a kindred spirit. Or maybe she wanted someone to rage with. Either way, she stomped her foot at her failure, and slid down the trunk to sit with her arms crossed. "Why is it so bloody hot here? Isn't it supposed to rain more?"

Marisol Leandra Lobera Navarre

[Marisol Leandra Lobera Navarre]

In hindsight, it was something of a miracle that Sol hadn’t heard the new girl stomping through the jungle – another sign of how distracted she was and caught up in her own thoughts. That wouldn’t do. It was hard to maintain your distance from everyone if you didn’t even notice someone encroaching on the private tree she’d chosen for herself. Sol rested her chin on her arms, looking down at the girl and raising her eyebrow at the girl’s excitement for having found the boundaries of the translation enchantments that were applied all over the school. “Each room has to be enchanted. Why would they bother out here?” Her tone was rather flat, neither excited nor displeased at having her daydreams interrupted. No, it was just a dry observation – asking the next logical question in this flow of events. Sometimes the Herbology professor would take her classes out to examine some magical plants in the jungle, but they’d always stay within sight of the castle. Nobody really wandered too far out unless they wanted to be out of sight, in which case communication was probably the last thing on their mind. It didn’t matter much anyway to most of the students, since the Spanish-speakers learned Portuguese quickly and the Brazilians almost always knew some Spanish before starting school.

But an English-speaker was unusual, and her curiosity was the only thing that stopped Sol from ignoring the girl’s pointed remark and climbing up to a higher branch. She didn’t outright deny that she’d come to sulk, but her brow pinched in annoyance and Sol resisted the urge to pout. “What do you have to sulk about?” she asked instead, moodily picking at a knot in the branch with her fingers. It seemed fairly obvious to Sol that her life had taken a sharp downturn and she had every right to be upset about it. But what did the new kid have to complain about? She got to attend the best school in the Americas, and be an object of fascination to all the locals who’d probably never left the continent. Sol was just the werewolf, with all her mother’s secrets finally out in the open for everybody to whisper about behind her back.

It was a little painful to watch the girl try and climb the tree, so after a few beats Sol sighed and pulled out her wand. She’d been experimenting with nonverbal magic (which fit quite nicely with her natural instinct to stay as quiet as possible and not draw attention to herself), so she didn’t need to speak her Transfiguration spell out-loud. Root to route. The thick roots of the tree started to expand as if pulling themselves upwards, arcing elegantly so someone could gain enough height to pull themselves into the lowest branches of the tree. Sol held the spell for a few moments, but let it go fairly quickly. One of the tricks of the trade was to know that you couldn’t transmute one thing into something too different (or unnatural) for long. Keeping your spells short, and expectations low, was a good way to avoid failure. She put her wand away and didn’t move again, watching New Girl as she climbed.

YASMIN ZARA EL FAYED