“I figured it wasn’t [i]entirely[/i] my fault,” Zaylin began, glancing to her watch. “Well, I should get to class. Good meeting you! Maybe I’ll see you tonight.” With that, she hurried to her first class of the day.

That day seemed to drone on, the atmosphere lighter than normal as conversations buzzed about the bonfire. As the school day came to a close and the time of the fire neared, she deposited her school stuff in her room. Stopping to put on the necklace her parents had given her as a parting gift, the chain adorned with rubies and onyx, and an elegant, silver medallion with her [url=http://i.imgur.com/fiyq885.png]family’s crest[/url] hanging at its center, she then headed out, glad for an excuse to be outside when night finally fell.

When Amy found her, Zaylin gladly joined the other two girls around the fire, a bottle of water in hand, which she occasionally tossed up, catching it by the opposite end. Her eyes often strayed to the flames, their glowing tendrils dancing and flickering. She had always had a respect for fire, for its ability to both destroy and sustain life.

As she declined the offer of a s’more, a strange, uneasy feeling made the hairs on her neck stand on end. Her brows furrowing, she looked around at the multitude of other students and paroling teachers, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Turning slowly back around, she took a swig from her water bottle.

“You know,” Zaylin replaced the bottle’s cap, “all this is missing is a band with a tambourine and bunch of dancing gypsies.” She grinned at the thought.