Chapter One
A chilly breeze blows inside our classroom on a late Friday afternoon, and I find myself shivering despite already wearing a waterfall cardigan over my turtleneck. Today was one of those rare days I opted for fashion over warmth, but I've definitely learned my lesson. Rosethorne might have the state's prettiest school uniforms, but what good would looking attractive do when you're half-frozen to death?
Our new Istoría teacher starts handing out today's test sheets, and the collective groans that succeed this draw my attention back to the class. The clique of spoiled brats seated in the front row whine about having to take the quiz, but Professor Mayumi only blinks at them in sham innocence, and I quickly hide my smile by turning my head towards the windows.
Ouch!
A harsh glare of sunlight has me hastily shading my eyes with the back of my hand. This, I think crabbily, is another reason why I thought I could survive the cold mountain air without my trusty fleece-lined blazer.
It was already this sunny at just a quarter past six today, but I should've known better than to rely on visual weather cues. Things like weather forecasts and climate change are so Pre-3rd, and ever since the Third War had gods swooping in to save humanity, it's become a lot harder to tell the difference between natural and divinely influenced phenomenon.
The rustling sound of paper makes me drag my gaze away from the windows. I finally have my copy of the test, and I can feel my face contorting in a grimace when I find a blank map staring back at me.
Oh, shit.
I really like Rosethorne's newest faculty addition, but...is it too late to join the other students in protest of this quiz?
I love studying about places and stuff, but the feeling unfortunately isn't mutual. While I can memorize names and numbers just fine, it's when I'm asked to look up things sans GPS that I end up in trouble, both figuratively and literally.
There's the usual clatter of clicks and clinks as the other students mull over their choices, but since I've yet to acquire the art of quill picking, I simply pull the drawer under my writing desk open and take out a bottle of ink and one randomly chosen quill.
It's already been over two weeks since I transferred, but that length of time sadly isn't enough for me to get a hang of either Vermont's shivery-cold weather...or my new school's fancy writing requisites.
I used to live in a small, almost-always-sunny town in California, and the life I led back then was...ordinary. Like, ballpoint-pens-and-public-schools-ordinary, and so yeah, this whole quill thing was still a little too posh for me. I've lost count of the number of times I've accidentally toppled my ink bottle over my notes, and there was even that one time when an entire class saw me unintentionally snap my quill into two because of my crudely strong grip.
Cultured and graceful, I am so obviously not, which is why I find myself mentally crossing my fingers as I carefully dip my quill into my ink bottle. A mess-free answer sheet is the goal here. No accidental spillage. Zero quill mortality rates. That's all I want, and for that to happen, I'm going to make sure I take my time answering each question, starting with...
Place an X on the areas under the jurisdiction of the Ennead of Heliopolis.
Ha! Easy-peasy. They're probably the most infamous bunch among the divine, and that's not just because of their preference for keeping harems. In the early Post-3rd years, the Egyptian gods also made waves for turning down the requests of wealthier kingdoms and nations to serve them. Their motherland of pyramids, secret tombs, and mummies was all those sheikh-like gods cared about, 'Nuff said.
Circle the areas under the jurisdiction of the deities of the Kaluwalhatian.
Child's play. This particular pantheon is the only divine authority in Southeast Asia, and its seat of power, the Philippines, has an easily recognizable shape on the map.
Shade the areas under the jurisdiction of the Olympian Pantheon.
Oh wow. Really? That's it? I guess I worried for nothing. Even first-graders know that the Olympians only hold divine authority over North America and Greece, which should be...shit. Where is Greece in the world map again?
I stare hard at my quiz sheet, but the squiggly lines making up the European continent stubbornly refuse to make sense.
Let's see, mm.
Like the Philippines, Greece is comprised of a gazillion of islands. I remember that much at least, and it's right next to the...aha!
Recalling its proximity to the Mediterranean Sea is all the clue I need, but since I'm still not handy with my quill, it takes me a good fifteen minutes before I'm done shading every Greek island under Olympian rule.
Professor Mayumi glances up as I approach her desk to hand over my answer sheet. "All done?"