Under a Stolen Sun: Chapter 1, Scenes 1-3

   Mondays, how Tariil hate Mondays, and now Dianne had school... School! He grabbed the clock next to the cot. Six forty-five! He slung his overcoat over his body and dashed up the stairs, nearly taking out another servant.

   "Sorry Gruhnda!" he said, deftly evading the clothes basket she carried.

   He pounded on Dianne's door. "Dianne! School, you will be late! I cannot have you late on the first day!"

   The door opened slowly, almost invitingly, but he knew better. He had been caught not using proper conduct just a few nights ago and was punished accordingly. Dianne looked sleepily through the cracked door. She then nodded, confirming she was awake. Tariil then leaned, back against the door frame and waited. It only took about twenty minutes and she exited her room. Her long black hair brushed out straight and her dress clear of wrinkles.

   "We have about forty-five minutes to get there. If you eat quickly, I can get you there in only twenty."

   "Tariil, it takes forty minutes to get from here to the school. How do you intend- You don't mean- No! I will not have you use your magic so early, the day is just beginning!"

   He blinked confusedly, "What? I only meant precision driving. I have a good record and I know the roads to take to get there. Caeshin, the driver, is mistaken on the fastest route." He leaned in to whisper, "He only takes the car through areas of good condition."

   She smiled, "You are quite the risk taker, aren't you? If you think we can get there on time I will not tell my father."

- - -

   He opened the door for Dianne, examining the school's yard. It was large and prestigious, if not arrogant in standing. He examined those attending, summing up what his duties might entail. Djinnic everywhere, this made his nervous. In her previous school she was one of two Artuul, or masters of Djinnic. Tariil was essentially a slave, but he didn't mind. Free meals, shelter, and good company; he gladly served Dianne. With all of the Djinnic here he would have to be wary, Dianne was special and could handle herself against humans and other Artuul, but Djinnic were still a danger.

   Another girl handed Tariil several bags, "Here, carry these to my classes." She then looked to Dianne, "Welcome to Silvervine Academy, school for gifted Magi, Sorcerers, and Summoners. Where do your talents lie?"

   He gave a look at Dianne, who was just as confused as him. "Miss, I do not know you, but I serve Miss Callahan, you should carry your own bags. Unless you have servants, in which case they should carry them."

   The look on the girl's face was worth the danger of social offense, but he realized that he may have, in the long run, hurt Dianne's reputation. He wished he had not said it.

   "Excuse him, miss, he is not programmed for simple tasks. He is programmed for protection." said Dianne. She did not even look toward Tariil.

   What was she doing? Any Djinnic hearing that with that programming would wish to challenge him. He was a simple servant, even so, more of a companion. Why would she feint such? He tried desperately to keep himself composed. It seemed to have worked. The girl scowled and began the tour.

- - -

   The bell rang. Class was beginning, apparently Tariil was allowed inside of the room. Strange, S-Class Djinnic were not allowed inside classes in the briefing brochure... Was he really assigned in the documents as a G-Class Djinnic while here? On the board was a list of notes about Djinnic, from how they are brought to this world, to their abilities and powers, to their tasks. He paid little attention. Djinnic did not tend to know much about their kind as they lacked education, but Dianne's plea at a young age that he should be prepared for dangerous situations led him to a formal training in the matter. He was well versed in augmentation, summoning, and other such forms of magic.

   "Are we dreaming of freedom, Djinnic?" the instructor inquired. She was stern, organized, and a little intimidating. There was something, however, different about her...