Sahara Ashdell: Threat to Malorsty (Book 1)

She feels out of breath as she finally arrives to J floor. She quickly finds her room and notices she is the first to arrive to the large white room adorned with twinkle lights. Two beds are on one side of the room with trunks at each end. Two similar beds are on the other side of the room, and she notices her blue trunk is sitting on the floor at the end of the first bed. She has been curious what could be in the trunk, since she came to the elf world with nothing but the dirty rag dress she was wearing. She moves over and begins to lift the lid to the trunk but the sound of the door opening and elleth laughing stops her. She turns to meet two identical smiling faces. “Hello.” Sahara says with a returned smile.

They eagerly close the door behind them before either speaks. “You must be Aranel Sahara!” The one on the left blurts out with a curtsy. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

“We are honored to be chosen as your roommates.” The one on the right also curtsies.

Sahara is surprised they already recognize her. “Please just call me Sahara. And no bowing.” She shakes her head toward them as she wonders if she will ever get use to everyone treating her as a royal.

“I am Marol.” The left one says before nudging her twin. “And this is Carol.”

“It is lovely to meet you both.” She says as the two faces smile toward her as if they are waiting for her to say something else. She notices they both have on the same color gown as she does. “You are first years too?”

“Oh, yes.” Carol explains, “We are your roommates until graduation.”

“Same room. Every year, from now on.” Marol nods in agreeance.

Sahara wonders how much they know about her. “I fear I do not know much about your world.”

“Our world.” Marol corrects her.

“Yes, our world.” Sahara smiles at the thought of being accepted. “But I would love it if you could teach me some things.”

“Oh!” Carol screeches in excitement. “Absolutely.”

Marol seems just as excited as she hugs Sahara tightly. “We are so pleased to finally meet you.”

The door opens again and Sahara’s blonde-haired nightmare, Waizlynn, enters. “This is,” Waizlynn says as she looks disgustfully toward Sahara, “unfortunately, your room.” A timid elleth with glasses steps inside the room. Waizlynn turns toward the timid elleth and looks remorseful. “Take care cousin. The red head is a loser, so try to not be seen in public with her.” And with a roll of her eyes and haughty huff, Waizlynn exits the room.

Sahara exhales a breath she did not realize she was holding as she holds on to the realization that her roommate is Waizlynn’s cousin. The blonde elleth says apologetically, “Sorry about her, she can be quite mean. I am Bularia”

“It is alright.” Sahara smiles in relief that Bularia seems nice. “I am really not quite sure why she hates me so. We have never even met.”

“The fact that you are going to marry her ellon might be part of the issue.” Carol laughs.

Sahara is confused on what Carol means. “Brystol?” Sahara asks as Bularia’s mouth drops open in shock. “What do you mean?” Sahara insists.

“So, it is true?” Bularia interrupts. “You are Sahara Ashdell?”

Sahara briefly looks at Bularia’s shocked expression before looking back at Carol and Marol. “What do you mean by marry her ellon?”

Carol and Marol look nervously toward one another before Marol finally breaks the silence. “No one told you?”

“Told me what?” Sahara begs for an explanation.

“You and Brystol are betrothed.” Bularia says with certainty. “You have been betrothed since the day you were born.”

Sahara crosses her arms in protest. “I will never marry that... that self-absorbed little prick!”

“I take it you two have met then?” Carol looks interested in Sahara’s reaction toward Brystol.

“Met? Ha!” Sahara grunts in disgust. “He tripped me when I first arrived, then laughed at me when I ran into a wall, and now nick named me pukey.”

Marol and Carol try to hide their smiles as they look at each other in response to Sahara. Bularia laughs out loudly, “So he hates you and you hate him?” She moves further into the room, “Oh! I cannot wait to watch this calamity unfold over the next four years.”

“There is nothing going to unfold!” Sahara declares boldly. “I am not marrying him!”

“I am quite certain you have no choice in the matter.” Bularia says while adjusting her glasses and opening a brown wooden trunk at the end of the bed next to Sahara’s.

“Why would I not have a choice?” Sahara asks defensively.

Bularia pulls out a large grey and black book from her trunk. “Because the contracts for royal betrothals are usually done in blood.” She opens the book and begins to flip through the pages as she continues, “Your betrothal is recorded in every Elfanism book. Ah!” She stops on a page and motions for Sahara to come closer. “Come see for yourself.”

Sahara moves over and sits down beside Bularia as she sees a moving picture on the page of the book. Her real parents are in the picture holding a small baby. They are both dressed in blue and are wearing curly golden crowns adorned with blue jewels. Another aran and tari dressed in white and wearing golden crowns with clear jewels are standing to the left of her parents with an older baby. She realizes it must be Brystol and his parents. Verdiwild walks into the picture holding a scroll. He lays the scroll down on a small table that resides between the two families. He then pulls out a golden feather pen and takes Brystol’s small hand as he speaks, “Taina imi Serce uoio na rusta...” Verdiwild stabs Brystol’s small finger with the end of the pen and causes him to cry painfully.

Verdiwild stops speaking while Brystol cries, so Sahara takes the opportunity to quickly ask, “What did he say?”

Bularia interprets his words for her “Written in blood never to be broken.”

Verdiwild takes the blood tipped pen and writes something on the scroll. He then takes Sahara’s baby hand and begins to speak again, “Sise atta mende cova dweanranda nahta...” The baby cries loudly from the prick on her finger. Sahara looks down at her ring finger on the left hand, seeing the small round scar she had always had.

Bularia interprets again, “These two shall come together by the age of eighteen.”

Verdiwild moves the blood tipped pen back to the scroll and begins to write again as he says, “Si ovesta imbit aranyes yeva ho sinarye oiale.”

Bularia speaks again, “This contract between two kingdoms will be so from this day forth.”

Verdiwild continues to write as he speaks again, “Ier ilquen sampaityale astarmo.”

"As all have paid witness.” Bularia translates again.

Verdiwild lifts the golden feather pen laid across both of his palms above the scroll. “Brystol Treegan ar Sahara Ashdell ronda nauta tenna effirielto hek.”

“Brystol Treegan and Sahara Ashdell solidly bound until death they part.” Bularia finishes the translation as the pen in Verdiwild’s hand floats above his palms. He removes his hands, and the floating golden feather pen appears to be sucked down into the scroll as it quickly rolls shut with a bright flash of light. Verdiwild catches the now closed scroll in his hand as Bularia closes the book and says sadly, “You see. You are bound by blood, and nothing can break a blood contract.”

Sahara feels overwhelmed by the facts she has just been presented as she lets her shoulders fall to a slumped position. “I would rather be in the human world.”

“At least he is handsome.” Marol sighs in pleasure as she falls to one of the beds. “You are so lucky.” Sahara feels anything but lucky.

A bell chimes through the three large windows of the room and the lights suddenly go out in their room. “Curfew.” Carol says annoyed. “Guess we get to get dressed in the dark.”

Sahara has a tough time sleeping as she tosses and turns thinking about her betrothal to Brystol. She did not like the situation. She knows being trapped with the Craig’s in the human world is much preferred to marrying someone she finds so...so, well she can’t even think of the best word to describe such a loathsome ellon. She wonders if Brystol treated her in such a way because he knew who she was, even though Mecca had introduced her as Brooklyn.

“What is that?” Carol’s voice wakes Sahara, as she realizes the sun is lighting up the room. She must have finally fallen asleep. She hears someone knocking on their door.

“Someone is at the door.” Sahara says as she sits up in bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Marol stumbles through the room in her purple night dress and opens the door. She remains silent for a moment and Sahara hears a familiar voice travel into the room. “Is Brooklyn here?”

“Brooklyn?” Marol asks sounding confused. “I think you…”

“Here!” Sahara yells loud enough for Mecca to hear her as she interrupts Marol. “Yeah, I am in here.” She notices the confused expressions on her three roommates faces.

Mecca peaks in the door and Sahara smiles at her. “Morning.”

Mecca proceeds into the room as she speaks, “You are supposed to be meeting Phylan in ten minutes for practice. Why aren’t you ready?”

“Oh!” Sahara jumps out of bed quickly moving towards her trunk. “I almost forgot.” She shuffles through her trunk wondering what exactly one wears to practice the game of plorsaka...or plorskol...

“Here.” Bularia reaches down into her trunk and hands her a pair of black leggings and a long green shirt. “Plorksol is best played in pants.”

“Plorksol.” Sahara says scoldingly aloud as she mentally kicks herself for not remembering the name of the game.

Mecca laughs, “I do not understand why you agreed to this. You can’t even remember the name of it.”

Sahara hurriedly dresses as her roommates introduce themselves to Mecca. “Alright.” Sahara says, “Ready.”

Mecca rises from the bed she was seated on with excitement. “Brilliant. Let’s be off then.”

“Good luck, Brooklyn.” Carol says sarcastically.

Marol smiles mischievously with her words, “Is not Brystol on the team?”

“Oh!” Bularia laughs evilly, “We will for sure be there to cheer you on then! It will prove entertaining.”

Mecca laughs with Sahara’s three roommates, “Yes, they very much don’t get along.”

“Oh, if you only knew dearest Mecca!” Bularia shouts toward the pair as Sahara shuffles Mecca quickly out of the room.

“Bye!” Sahara scuffs from the hallway as she closes the door.

“You have great roommates!” Mecca scowls jealously, “Mine all freak me out already. Daze, she is half aqua elf, so she sleeps in a bathtub! And her constant tossing and turning made splashing noises all night. I don’t see how I will get any sleep the next four years.” They make their way down to the plorksol field as Mecca continues to complain about each of her roommates. Sahara listens to every detail, thankful for the distraction from thinking about her betrothal to Brystol.

“Brooklyn!” Phylan yells with a large wave as he holds up a large gray surfboard. “I have an extra board for you!”

She smiles nervously at Phylan as she responds unexcitedly, “Great.”

“I will be in the stands for moral support.” Mecca says before leaving Sahara’s side.

Sahara asks, “So, I ride the surfboard?”

Phylan looks at her oddly, “You say the strangest things. It is a plorboard.”

“Okay, so I ride the plorboard?” Sahara takes the board from him observing there is no fin on the board like a surfboard has and it is much thinner than a surfboard. She had waxed Trina’s surfboards enough to know what one looked like.

“Yes.” Phylan answers as he picks up another board from the ground. “It is easy. You just stand sideways in the center of the board.” Sahara lays the board down on the ground and stands just like someone would on a surfboard. She had learned how to surf two summers ago when Trina began surfing. She would go to the surf lessons with Trina and pay attention to what the instructor taught Trina. Then, she would practice when the Craig’s were away on vacation, which was most of the summertime. “Yeah, that is perfect actually.” Phylan says impressed.

“And what is the point of this game?” Sahara jumps off the plorboard and back on to the grassy field.

“Score the least.” Phylan says as he reaches down towards Sahara’s board.

“Least?” Sahara says in surprise, “Like golf?”

Phylan laughs as he shakes his head, “You are a strange elleth.” She watches him press a button on the bottom of the board and it immediately begins to float in the air. “There are six rings in the stadium.” He points up in the air toward a tall pole that has a large ring on the top. Sahara notices there are five more rings identical to the one he points to that surround the stadium evenly spaced. “Only two members of the team are allowed to score at each ring. So there are two players assigned to each ring. There are six rounds, one round for each ring. The first round starts on the ring over there.” He points to a ring on the far right side of the field. “The goal is to get the ball through the ring faster than the other team, with the least amount of tries. The less tries it takes to get your ball through your ring, the better. When the other team has the ball the ring can be guarded by one of the two players while the other players try to steal the ball. Once both teams have made the ball through the ring, each team takes their tries at exploding their pod.” He makes his board float in the air next to hers.

“So the pods are played like a football field goal.” She says out loud making a mental note and Phylan gives her an odd look before she asks about the ball. “So, do we like kick it?” Sahara doesn’t remember seeing a bat or anything in the advertisement at the banquet last night.

“No. There are six pods on each side of the stadium.” He points to one side of the stadium at six floating sticks. “Your two players for the round start with twelve tries to explode their one pod. If it takes your team twelve tries to get the ball through the play ring, then you have zero tries to explode your pod. If you take seven tries to get your ball through the ring then you have five tries to explode your designated pod. Whoever has the least amount of their pods remaining by the end of round six wins.” He bends over and pulls a pair of wrist bands from his bag. “You hit the ball with these.” He hands the wrist bands to Sahara. “They go on your wrists like this.” He holds up his own wrists displaying the solid wristbands. “The ball will only move if hit with the bands.” He picks up a checkered ball about the size of a softball and places it against his lips. She hears him whisper something against the ball before he tosses it into the air. As the ball comes back down towards him, he swings his hand toward it and hits it with his hand but instead of flying away from him like Sahara expected it to, the ball stops where he hit it and just floats.

Sahara moves closer to the ball with interest. “Can I try?”

“Of course.” Phylan steps back from the floating ball.

She tries to hit the ball with her hands, but it does not budge. She slides one of the wristbands on, followed by the other. She pulls her hand back and swings toward the ball causing her wristband to collide with the soft leather. The ball soars through the air at a high speed and Sahara smiles over at Phylan. “Did you enchant the ball?”

“Yes, but you can’t use magic during the game. That would be cheating.” Phylan explains, “The ball is the only thing allowed to be enchanted in a game.”

She looks down at the floating boards anxious to play. She had never gotten to play a game before. The Craig’s had game nights that looked fun, but she could only ever watch from a distance. She gently stands up on the board just as she had before. It really feels a lot like standing on a surfboard with it floating in the air, because she must keep her balance. “You have either done this before or I have to be the best instructor ever.” Phylan sounds pleased with himself.

“How do I make it go? And get higher or lower?” Sahara is too excited to learn to slow down her own thoughts to allow him a moment to answer. “Oh! Can we do three-sixties? Or would we fall off?”

“Wow,” Phylan stops her questions by holding his hand up towards her. “Slow down.” Sahara wonders what would happen if she leaned forward, so she tries it and suddenly the board begins to move forward quickly with her, but she falls off the board to the ground with a thump. “Brooklyn!” Phylan yells as he runs over to her. “Are you okay?”

Sahara grunts in pain from the fall but does not feel badly hurt. “Yes, I am fine.”

“You have to stomp your foot down once before you try to take off.” Phylan explains, “That is the only way to engage the straps.”

“Straps?” Sahara asks as she stands back up to her feet.

“Yes, there are straps that go over your feet to keep you from falling off the board.” Phylan runs over to his own board and jumps up on top of it. He stomps his left foot down onto the board one time and Sahara hears a clicking noise as thick straps emerge from the board and clasp over each of his feet. “See.”

Sahara looks around for her board and sees it a few feet from her. She moves over toward it and gently gets back on. She stomps her right foot once against the board and her feet are quickly encased in material that matches the board, as if she has become part of the board.

“Now,” Phylan is now floating next to her, “to go, you lean the direction you want to go. To stop you tilt the back of the board down by pulling up your front foot. Unless you are going backwards, then you would need to pull up your back foot to stop.”

“Alright.” Sahara taps her fingers impatiently against her right leg. “And the three-sixty?”

He laughs at her, “I have seen some professional players do it, but never first year academy student.” He points to the floating ball she hit earlier sitting still in the air above them. “Just learn how to actually play first before you start doing stunts.”

She watches him bend back slightly and it causes his board to fly upwards. “Bend your body backwards to fly up and bend your body forwards to fly down.” He calls down to her.

She quickly learns how to fly on the plorboard and is zooming around playfully in the arena. She looks down toward the ground noting she is at least twenty feet high. “Now try to hit the ball through this ring.” Phylan shouts as he points to a ring nearby him.

“Alright.” She shouts back and he sends the ball soaring towards her. She turns her board lining up at an angle to the goal so that she can swing at the ball backhanded. As it arrives to her, she swings toward the ball and hits it perfectly against her wristband. It flies back towards her goal ring, and it flies through the ring. She watches Phylan’s excitement unfold but is quickly distracted by the sound of cheering from down below them. She notices a group of students gathered on the field in matching uniforms.

Phylan flies over to her and hugs her causing them to both spin in a circle. “That was amazing!”

Sahara laughs joyfully at her success. “Who knew Plorksol could be so fun.”

Moments later the pair are landing on the ground close to the group of students in the matching uniforms. “Hi.” A handsome ellon with blonde curly hair waves to Sahara. “I think it is safe to say you made the team.”

“Really?” She looks around at the small crowd, “I didn’t know try outs had already started.”

“They have not officially.” Brystol says in a monotone looking unimpressed with the situation.

“My name is Randolph; I am the team leader.” The handsome ellon smiles at her. “You ever play plorksol before?”

She shakes her head with her response, “No, never.”

“She didn’t know anything about the game until today, when I taught her.” Phylan smiles proud of himself.

“Pukey has never heard of plorksol.” Brystol says teasingly with a laugh, and it causes the small group to laugh with him.

Sahara feels annoyed from Brystol’s teasing but gains some satisfaction as she watches his smile fade when she hears Carol yell out her name, “Sahara,” Carol and Marol are running toward her on the field in excitement. “That was wicked!” Carol screams while punching her arm up in the air. Sahara turns her eyes back to see Brystol, who receives a nudge on his shoulder from another teammate and it causes him to stumble back slightly. His stunned expression stays fixed on Sahara.

Carol and Marol wrap their arms around Sahara as they bustle in excitement talking to her, but she doesn’t even hear them. She looks back at Brystol still in his frozen state and she now realizes he for sure did not know who she was yesterday. She can’t seem to concentrate on what the twins are saying as she keeps glancing back at Brystol wondering what he is thinking. Phylan catches her attention, “Wait, you are Sahara Ashdell?” He looks surprised, but much less surprised than Brystol.

“Wait what?” Mecca is now on the field and sounds just as excited as she looks. “Why did you tell me your name was Brooklyn?”

Sahara shrugs her shoulders, “That was my human name.”

“Yachantale!” Mecca says laughing as she hugs Sahara.

“What?” Sahara says confused before Mecca releases their hug.

Mecca curtsies to her, “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

Phylan bows toward her and repeats Mecca, “Yachantale.”

She then hears the group of plorksol players repeat, “Yachantale.” She looks over and sees them all bowing toward her. Brystol remains frozen in the same spot he was in before and he does not bow but is just staring at Sahara.

“Aranel Sahara.” Randolph says as he rises from his bow and approaches her. “It will be an honor to have you on the team.”

“Please,” She feels uncomfortable with all the attention. “Just call me Sahara.” She watches Brystol suddenly turn and leave the field in a hasty manner. She is sure it is because he is as unpleased about their betrothal as she is. Sahara sees Bularia on the sidelines smile and wave towards her before turning to follow Brystol.

A couple of hours later, Sahara is dressing for lunch when Bularia bursts into the room out of breath. “Oh good.” She pants out the words. “You are here.”

Sahara wonders why she is so out of breath, “What is going on?”

“Brystol.” Bularia makes her way into the room and falls on Sahara’s bed in exhaustion. “I followed him and hid in the ellon’s locker room.”

“Why?” Sahara wonders why Bularia was hiding.

“He looked shocked to learn you were here, so I was curious.” Bularia gives her an odd look. “I figured of everyone in Malorsty, he would be the one to know you were here and what you looked like. I mean his parents are the ones that have been protecting you all these years, so I assumed he would recognize you. But he seemed shocked that you were even here, like he had no idea you were coming.”

“What is your point?” Sahara doesn’t understand why this is significant.

Bularia sits up on the bed as she continues, “The other ellon got back to the locker room before he finished changing and were teasing him about having to marry pukey.”

Sahara rolls her eyes at the nickname before she realizes what Bularia said. “Wait. You watched him change?”

“No.” She looks innocent. “I was in a closet. I went into the closet when he was in the shower. I didn’t see anything.” Her protests sound sincere. “Anyway, Brystol was being all quiet and not talking back to any of them. Then, Saitar Bleavins comes in with a telecall for Brystol. He made the other ellon clear the room to give Brystol privacy.” Sahara assumes a telecall is just like a cellphone in the human world. “It was his dad, Aran Rayterbay, telling him you were found and had been sent to school here. He wanted Brystol to find you and introduce himself so he could help you out in learning our ways. He said you needed to learn of the betrothal from him before anyone else told you. That was when Brystol got flustered and told him that he already met you. He refused to help you and asked the aran to find someone else.”

“Good.” Sahara says satisfied. “I could not bear to be around him all the time.”

Bularia continues ignoring Sahara’s comment. “But the weird part was when Brystol asked if Headoreon Shawdlortur could do it. And the aran said Shawdlortur was here strictly to be your guardian not your teacher.”

“Why do I need my very own Headoreon?” Sahara asks as she sits down on her bed next to Bularia feeling perplexed.

“I don’t know.” Bularia shrugs her shoulders. “But I bet Brystol knows. You should go talk to him.”

“No way!” Sahara protests.

“Why not?” Bularia asks, “I mean you have to talk to him at some point. It is kind of unavoidable when you are married.”

“There is a way out of the betrothal. There has to be.” Sahara says moving toward the door to go eat lunch. She had skipped breakfast and her stomach was rumbling.

“Brystol might know that too.” Bularia says following Sahara. “I mean he doesn’t seem that bad.”

Sahara stop in the hallway and abruptly turns to face Bularia. “That is because you have not been around him much. And spying on him I the locker room does not count.”

“I was around him a lot over the summer.” Bularia says crossing her arms. “When Waizlynn came to visit us for a month. She was not allowed to go out alone and so I had to tag along. We would meet up with Brystol and his friends.”

“Ewe.” Sahara says turning back around to move toward the staircase. “That must have been terrible.”

“It was alright.” Bularia says catching up to Sahara again. “But he was really nice to me.”

“How long have he and Waizlynn been dating?” Sahara really is not sure why she is asking such a question, she could care less.

“Um.” Bularia shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t know. They met last year here at the academy.”

“If we are really betrothed, then why is he dating some other elleth?” Sahara rolls her eyes at herself. “Not that I care.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want the betrothal either.” Bularia’s face lights up. “If not, I bet he for sure has been trying to figure out how to break it! He has access to all the betrothal details and to his parents that helped create the marriage contract.”

Sahara stops moving down the stairs in thought. “I guess I could just ask him a few things.” She feels her stomach rumble again. “But not until after lunch.”

“I will distract Waizlynn, so you can talk to him.” Bularia links arms with Sahara as they continue the journey down to the first floor.

After lunch, Sahara waits out in the hallway with Bularia until they see Waizlynn and Brystol exit the banquet hall on the second floor. “I will see you after.” Bularia says excitedly as she runs to talk to Waizlynn. Sahara watches as Waizlynn and Bularia exit the academy, leaving Brystol alone in the hall.

Sahara quickly moves through the crowd of students trying to catch Brystol. As she arrives next to him, she notices he is talking to the other ellons she saw him and Waizlynn with when she first arrived. “Hello.” She says causing the group to look toward her. They all remain silent and Brystol looks down toward the ground away from her. “Could I talk to you?” She watches Brystol glance up at her.

“Oh. Yes!” One of the other ellon steps over in front of her. “I thought you would never ask me, Pukey.” He says teasingly, causing the small group to laugh.

Sahara looks back over at Brystol who is also laughing. “I am sorry.” She says moving her eyes back to the ellon that is now trying to hold her hand. “Who are you?”

“Theniop, my darling.” He says as she tries to keep him from touching her hand.

“Well, Theniop,” She says feeling agitated as she continues to fight his hands from touching her. “My name is Sahara.” Theniop immediately takes a step backward and Sahara can see the surprise on his face as he nervously glances over to Brystol. Sahara sees the surprise on the other ellon’s faces in the group as well. She realizes Brystol has not mentioned who she actually is to his friends.

“The Sahara?” Theniop sounds much more timid all of the sudden.

She looks over at Brystol, who seems overly quiet as he just looks at her with no expression. “Yes. And I was wanting to speak to my betrothed.” She says trying to hide her feelings of annoyance. “Not you, Theniop.”

Theniop steps back further out of the way silently and she glances over toward him and the other ellons in the group she does not know. They all walk away from her and Brystol, whispering amongst themselves. “Someone told you?” Brystol says looking uncomfortable.

“My roommates.” Sahara says grabbing Brystol by the arm and pulling him behind her toward the exit. She was hoping to find somewhere quiet to ask her questions. Seeing no one else around, she finds a tree sitting out in the yard of the academy that she stops under and releases Brystol’s arm. “Obviously, I dislike you.” She says turning back toward him. “Like a lot! But it appears you may be one of the only people that I...”

He interrupts her and looks around as if he is embarrassed to be seen with her. “Elf.”

“What?” Sahara asks.

“Elf. People are humans.” He says quietly. “We are elves.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes at him. “You are one of the only elves that I can maybe get some answers from.” He stands there silently looking at her. She begins to feel awkward that he has not responded and she realizes he wants her to ask her questions. “Yeah. So, why do I have my own Headrone?”

“Headoreon?” Brystol asks with a small smile.

“That is what I said.” Sahara puts her hands on her hips in defense.

“No it wasn’t.” He laughs.

“Just answer the question!” She says angrily.

“Wait.” Brystol gets a thoughtful expression. “How do you know there is a Headoreon here just for you?” Sahara remains silent and looks quickly down at her feet. She did not think about how that question would give him so much information. “Have you been eavesdropping?”

“No!” She cries out.

“Then, how else would you know that?” He asks stepping closer to her. “Only five elves knew he was here just to protect you. The Headorean himself, my father, my mother, Verdiwild, and me.” He steps even closer to her causing her heart to beat faster in nervousness. “Since three of the five are not here and I know you have not yet met with Headorean Shawdlortur, and that I did not tell you…you had to have overheard my conversation earlier with my father.”

Sahara swallows hard trying to think of something she can say that did not sound terrible but she decides honesty is the best way to go. “My roommate, Bularia told me.”

“And how did she know?” Sahara finally works up the nerve to look up at him and she doesn’t see the anger on his face she expected. “Did she eavesdrop for you?” He asks.

“I don’t know how she knew.” She lies.

“You are not a good liar.” He says as he turns to leave her.

“Wait.” She runs up next to him trying to stop him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know why.” He says as he keeps walking back toward the entrance of the Academy.

“Now who is the bad liar? You just said he was here to protect me.” Sahara scruffs and he abruptly turns toward her. “I know you know!” She says.

“I know you probably have a hundred questions, but I am not the one to answer them.” He shrugs his shoulders toward her before he smiles deviously. “Sorry Pukey.” He turns to leave her again.

“Would you stop calling me that?” She shouts out angrily toward his back as she watches him move up the stairs. She hears him snicker in response but never sees him turn around to look at her again.

“Get any answers?” Bularia asks as she runs up next to Sahara.

“Ahh!” Sahara yells out toward the sky in anger before turning to leave.

“I will take that as a no.” Bularia says as she follows Sahara back inside.