The hallways were jam-packed as Madison walked into the main building. She'd just got back from the energy wing, having just finished her ability classes. Once she'd deposited her coat in her locker, she got a few stares, but for the most part, people were used to seeing her in colorful clothes and wacky accessories, and today's outfit wasn't as quirky as it got. She wore a blue and black striped cardigan over a black lace-trimmed camisole, short black skirt, and a pair of black lace-up shoes with low, chunky heels. They kind of looked like boots, but didn't go over Madison's ankles. Though most girls hadn't touched a scrunchie in years, Madison's hair was tied back in a ponytail with a bright blue one. In her ears dangled a pair of miniature Rubik's cubes.

With her coat safely in her locker, Madison headed to the arts wing for an art club meeting. She wasn't sure what she wanted to work on today. Madison preferred painting, pottery, and sculptures over other types of art, although she enjoyed them all. Maybe it was because she liked working with paint and clay. She loved dipping her paintbrush in the paint and with the right amount of strokes, creating a picture. And she loved the feeling of clay in her hands, molding it into whatever she wanted.

As Madison entered the classroom, she noticed it was empty. Walking over to a table (another thing she loved about the art classroom, there were tables instead of desks), she removed her cardigan so it wouldn't get dirty and laid it on the back of a chair, and then went looking for a smock to cover up the rest of her clothes. Pulling a smock out of the box, she heard the door open and looked up.

Art always had an amazing effect on Zephyriah. Pastiches of colors, shades, and tones always excited and intrigued the girl, and she always made room on her schedule specifically for her art club. She had tried track; though she had considerable success there, she ended up dropping it in lieu of the other activities in her loaded schedule. She had attempted orchestra; instead, she decided to hone her skills as a burgeoning violinist in private in favor of other pursuits. Art was, in fact, the only activity that Zephyriah would never drop.

Volleyball brought her renown; theatre drew her attention; dance made her desirable, but all of those were acquired pleasures, pleasantries that Zephyriah had honed over the years. And if not for her love of the arts, the latter two would certainly not be in her repertoire. She danced and she acted out of the joy of expression, of conveyance. Though few people now can still remember, Zephyriah came into Aura Academy as an impressionable and juvenile art nerd, and it was through years of development that refined her into the respected royal that she represents.

Whether sculpture, oils, or engraving, Zephyriah enjoyed them all. However, her true brilliance lay in the far more subtle world of pencil and charcoal, where her talents were expressed in expressive works of near photorealism, though always with a slight ambiguity that distinguished her style from the rest. In one of the corners of the art room, her body of work—accumulated over the past few years—hung from floor to ceiling. That was her corner of the art room: Adelphie’s Corner.

After a morning of classes and fighting for booking venues for the dance team, Zephyriah wanted nothing more than to retreat into her corner, busy herself with her assortment of pencils and charcoal, and dirty her shader and fingers. Her heels clacked off the marble floor as she bounded the last few steps towards the door to the art room with surprising zeal and vigor. The period immediately following the morning cycle was usually when the art room was emptiest. The classes that used the room had emptied, and most people retreated to their friends to enjoy their break. This day, Adelphie begged off her friends and chose to use the time far more creatively.

The click of the doorknob signaled her arrival as she pushed the door open with one graceful, sweeping motion. Her eyes immediately surveyed the interior, but she felt her attention immediately drawn towards the lone other occupant of the room. Though the surprise was immediately evident on her face, her lips curled into a gentle and reassuring smile. Through dimpled cheeks, Zephyriah spoke, “Oh, I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?”

She paused momentarily, but continued before the other had a chance to respond, “It’s Madison right?” She knew that Madison had a twin, and even Zephyriah’s most discerning glance could barely tell them apart. She knew that Madison was the one in art club. She also seemed the slightest bit plumper than her twin sister, though the difference was barely noticeable unless she was specifically looking for it.

"Yeah, it's me." Madison answered. Some twins would be sick of others making sure which twin was which, but it was just a fact of life for Madison, neither good nor bad. She knew that she and Kay were similar enough not only in looks, but in style, personality, and interests that it made sense for people to confuse them. It wasn't a big deal.

"And don't worry about disturbing me, you have as much a right to be here as I do."Madison smiled, tying on her smock. "I haven't even figured out what I'm going to do yet. I'm still deciding between pottery and painting. Most of the time I just know what I'm going to do, but I'm feeling indecisive today."

Usually, Madison decided her artwork by mood, inspiration, or necessity. If she was in a bad mood, pounding on clay for pottery always felt therapeutic. If she was in a better mood, like she was at the moment, anything was possible. Sometimes an inspiration would strike for a specific method of art. Other times, the inspiration would be more flexible, and she would simply go with the method that suited it best. Sometimes Madison would make something specific out of necessity. Usually this would be a gift, such as a vase for her mother, maybe a pair of earrings for Kay, things like that.

"So, how are you, anyway?" Madison asked. She hadn't spoken to Adelphie in a while, and wondered how she was doing.

On those days where all Zephyriah wanted to do was settle into her corner of the art room and draw, she was usually particularly irritable. And those irritable days, she would usually pour her soul into her drawings, resulting in more abstract and expressive works than usual. This was one of those days, but her irritability did not extend so far as callousness; she realized that she shared the room with another occupant, it was not particularly polite of her to disregard her simply because she would have preferred to be alone. Besides, some of Zephyriah’s best conversations and closest friends had humbling origins, where she did not originally intend to share a dialogue. Maybe Madison could be added to that illustrious list.

She took a few steps into the room, taking off her cloche and hanging on the rack by the door, her long chestnut hair tumbling down. She slipped out of her Prada pea coat and hung it next to her hat. Returning her attention to the girl, she flashed a subtle smile before she answered her question. “I’m fine, dear, thank you.”

It was a very generic answer, and one that Zephyriah deemed inexpressive enough for her purpose. A ‘though I could be better’ formed in her mind, but she squelched the words the words before they could escape her lips. Madison should have the spotlight in this conversation; Zephyriah did not need to draw attention to herself now, especially not after she had taken great lengths to avoid it for this particular escapade. And doing things counterproductive to her intentions was definitely not her style.

“I would paint, personally,” she answered, hoping to add her insight towards Madison’s little dilemma. Zephyriah enjoyed pottery and sculpting, but it always felt like a hassle and a bit of a chore. There was the entire pre-sculpting process, and then the extensive cleanup at the end, none of which was particularly enjoyable. She didn’t know how Madison felt about it though, so she felt it was a bit unfair for her to impose her opinion on others. “I’m terrible at painting though, so take it for what it’s worth.”

It was only partially true. Zephyriah was not a particularly gifted painter, but she was clearly competent, and even great on certain days. But part of her brilliance in shading and charcoal came from her disappointing ability with watercolors. She was never the type that enjoyed the feeling of a brush point—however versatile it was. The mixing of the colors always got to her, as Adelphie had a tendency to mix them too absolutely, resulting in contrastless gradients rather than poignant works of art. None of these were an issue with shading, and she loved to create with her pencils and charcoals.

“And we don’t have that much time before the afternoon classes,” she added, figuring that she should rationalize her suggestion—she always particularly hated when people interjected their opinions ‘just because,’ and vowed not to do it, “so painting should be quicker to clean up.”

Madison disliked being called 'dear.' Usually it was by older people, often saleswomen, in a higher-than usual pitch, with a big, patronizing smile. Of course she never said anything, as she was sure those people meant well, but still. It was almost as bad as people who said "we" when they meant "you". However, Madison noticed Zephyriah's voice wasn't pitched higher than usual, nor was her smile sugary and patronizing, so it didn't bother her too much. Though it did strike Madison as odd that Zephyriah had said 'dear'. After all, one didn't hear many teenagers say 'dear' in that context, unless they were reading out loud or quoting someone. Even then, it was rare. Zephyriah did seem very mature, much more so than most kids at school, so it shouldn't have been all that surprising.

"Well, that's good." Madison said. A little part in her brain wondered if she was telling the truth, but some people just didn't have much to say. Some people were just fine, and things were neither bad or spectacular, right? And besides, it wasn't really Madison's place to push things. After all, she wouldn't want someone to be intrusive if she'd told them she was fine.

"I'm sure you're painting's not all that bad." Madison said reassuringly. True, she couldn't remember seeing any of Zephyriah's paintings specifically, but she hadn't seen a bad painting in the entire time she'd been in art club, so she was pretty sure that Zephyriah's paintings weren't really bad.

"That's a good point." Madison nodded. "Painting does make more sense." It took a while just to prepare the clay, so she figured she'd barely have enough time to start a sculpture. With the likelihood of her making much progress in a sculpture being so slim, especially seeing as how she wasn't even sure what she'd sculpt, painting did seem the better option. She went to the paper cabinet, taking about five or six pieces of paper.

"So, what are you planning to do?" she asked, picking up an easel and moving it to one of the windows. It was her default location for painting when she wasn't feeling any inspiration. Looking outside often inspired her, and even when it didn't, she could paint what was right here. The view was nice, so it would make a great picture.

For a moment, Zephyriah hesitated, wondering if she should abandon the line of conversation with Madison and retreat to her corner. She wondered if that would appear rude for herself to cloister within her own work. But on the other hand, she did not appear to be pushy or overbearing by overstaying her welcome in the conversation. She waited for a cue from Madison, but the girl was soft-spoken and said many of her words so listlessly that even someone with as much worldly experience as Zephyriah had difficulty in distinguishing exactly how she thought of the discussion.

So Adelphie was stuck in a flux that she frequented during conversation. As often as she spoke with others, and as casually as many of those conversations were, she was still rarely completely comfortable with talking to others, especially if she hardly knew the other party. Perhaps she was too considerate of their opinion, or perhaps she was too aloof about her own charm, but she seemed to have difficulty connecting to them intimately enough to say that she was exceptional charismatic.

“I suppose so,” she replied. Seemingly, a strange response to ‘that’s good,’ but it came across as a bit of a pensive whisper. For a moment, her mind went blank, as she both reflected on the events of the day and tried to think of the best way to approach the girl who seemed so distant and secluded. Zephyriah was not used to people like Madison. Most of the people she knew wanted to know next to everything, and it was difficult keeping secrets for very long. Somehow, she got the sense that secrets would not be difficult for Madison.

“That’s because you’ve never seen my bad ones,” she joked. It was sort of true, she always tossed away the egregiously bad ones, but at the same time, Zephyriah knew—somewhere in the back of her mind—that her paintings really weren’t that terrible, especially not to the undiscerning eye. At the same time, she didn’t want to puff her chest about her skills, even if they were formidable.

As she heard the other girl take her suggestion, Zephyriah felt a tinge of pride, but did nothing. She was always quiet in art, probably because the clientele of the club was quieter by nature, and also probably because it was the one activity that Zephyriah really couldn’t live without. She could afford to be bold in some of her other activities. Ironically, her boldness and willingness to assume command in her other activities had earned her leadership positions. In art, she was still—even after more than three years of dedicated membership—a member of art, a position that suited her just fine.

Madison caught her a little off guard with the question about what she planned on doing. She really hadn’t given it much thought. Up until now, Zephyriah had only thought about retreating into the solace of the art room, and never once about what she would do once she was inside. She shrugged, before withdrawing a small, metal briefcase from one of the shelves. She kept all of her art supplies in there. She opened it, revealing the dozens of shading pencils in various stages of use, near the same window Madison gazed out of—she too thought it was a beautiful view, with the leafless trees lightly adorned with ice and snow.

“Mind if I sit next to you? I’ll probably do a landscape portrait.”

"Maybe, but in most cases, people are their own harshest critic." Madison smiled. "I guess that's a good thing sometimes. I'm willing to bet your paintings are better than you think, though." It really was true, and it made Madison think of Kay. Sometimes self-criticism could be good, but Kay seemed to take it too far, and it really worried Madison. She never was quite as self-assured as Madison, and it seemed to get worse once they started at Aura. She worried far too much about her weight for someone who was already thin. Granted, Kay had weighed more when she started worrying, but she was still on the slim side. If Kay lost any more weight, she'd snap in two if she got hit during soccer. The weight loss could have been attributed to her vegetarianism, but Madison had read somewhere that some people used vegetarianism to hide eating disorders, not to mention she'd been vegetarian for a while before the weight loss.

Shaking off this thought, she went over to the paint cabinet, gathering as many jars and bottles of paints as she needed, as well as a few mixing bowls and placing them in a bright red plastic basket, carrying them over to where she had set up her easel. "Oh, I don't mind at all. There's plenty of room, and it really is one of the best spots to work at."

Going over to a supply drawer, she began going through paintbrushes, trying to find a good one. She would have brought her own stuff, but didn't have the time to get it. After a short while, she located a paintbrush that looked new enough and went back to her spot. Carefully pouring some blue paint into a mixing bowl, she spoke again. "I know this is a random question, but what's your power? I don't remember you ever saying anything about it, or Alice mentioning it, and I was just curious."

“I hope so,” she smiled, “they can’t be much worse.”

Zephyriah commented to herself how she found the dynamic between the two of them slightly strange. She was usually the reassuring one, telling others that their high school dramas were not the end of the world, that their whirlwind emotions should not get the better of them. But here she was, in the art room, the one place where she usually bit her tongue, with a girl two years younger than her, and she was receiving words of encouragement from the unlikely source.

The truth was, Zephyriah knew that she was a good shader. Her corner full of landscapes and portraits said as much, and it was difficult to deny that she had a rare artistic talent. But, she had specialized over her years at the school, eventually electing to shade almost exclusively. As a result, it did not bother her to admit that she was simply not much good at the other specialties of art—somehow, the fact that she elected not to pursue them was justification for any inferiority in skill. Otherwise, she doubted that her humor would extend to that level of self-depreciation.

Nodding at Madison’s consent, Zephyriah slid her briefcase towards her, picking out a few choice pencils from her collection before setting them aside. She withdrew her sketchbook from her carrying bag and flipped to an open page, thumbing past a couple scenic sketches of varying levels of completeness. There was this portrait that she volunteered to draw of Alice, a few doodles that she did in her spare time, and a variety of landscapes that she drew whenever she saw a good, picturesque view. She rested her forearm on the first blank sheet of her sketchpad and began to trace out a few lines.

When that strange, seemingly arbitrary question arrived, Zephyriah showed no expression on her delicate features. She blinked a few times passively. The pencil in her hand stopped, suspended in the air. While Zephyriah definitely enjoyed her powers immensely, especially since they didn’t diminish with distance, there was a part of her that was still ashamed to admit it. “Omnipresence” sounded so absolute that it felt like she could do anything, and while she was sure that she had only begun to unlock her potential—after all, this was the first year that she could physically affect the environment from afar—it always seemed like she was underachieving, just by the totality of the word.

“I’d like to think I don’t have a power,” she said distantly, before she glanced at her, hoping she didn’t put her off, “but that wouldn’t be too believable, huh?”

She paused for a while before continuing: “I can be in a lot of places at once.”

"Well, considering you're standing here, I guess it wouldn't be very believable to think that." Madison laughed, getting a good look out of the window before beginning to paint. She wondered what it would be like to have no powers, to go to an ordinary school and live an ordinary life. She imagined that in many respects, an ordinary high school wouldn't be much different from Aura. She had, after all attended a normal school until a couple of years ago, when she had to get a tutor because her powers were starting to get out of control. There were some differences, much like a middle school would be different from a high school, but take away the magical powers, and she was sure Aura was similar to most high-school level boarding schools.

Sometimes Aura graduates, like her own parents, went on to conventional careers, but Madison wondered if she could do that. What was the point of possessing a gift like that, being trained to use it, and not doing anything with it? She couldn't imagine being stuck in an office cubicle for the rest of her life, or even being a movie star like her mother. Maybe a photographer. She enjoyed photography, but even then, it had been more of a hobby than anything else. However, if her other choices didn't work out, she felt she would be happy making a living as a photographer.

"That sounds like an interesting power to have. Confusing, but interesting. Is it like there are clones of you with different minds, or are you call connected, or is it your mind that's able to be there, and not your body?" It was a lot to ask, but Madison didn't know of this power, and it had piqued her curiosity. Madison liked learning about other people's powers. Her own power wasn't the most interesting, but it was useful and fun, and she wouldn't trade it for another if given the opportunity.

"What are you planning to do after you graduate?" she asked, thinking again about careers after graduation.

The funny thought of a student at Aura Academy without a magic power flashed in her mind. Aura Academy was a renowned boarding school, with a history of sending its graduates to good schools, so it would make sense that normal humans would want admission. It must have been an odd experience, but then again, with the variety of magic powers that the student body possessed, it wasn’t like there were too many others with overlapping powers anyway. Less than a handful of people shared Zephyriah’s power, and as far as she could tell—or perhaps in her own educated estimation—she was likely the best. Zephyriah took great pride in her proficiency.

She nodded at Madison’s comment, wondering just how much she wanted to show to her. Surely, it was not a very good opportunity to show her everything that she could do, and it would literally be an infinite number of things, considering she could be anywhere. Her pencil traced a few more expert lines as she listened to what the other girl was saying. An interesting power indeed, but all but the most proficient would find it a remarkably passive one. Even though Zephyriah could now affect the environment remotely, she still found it a very cold, distant ability.

“It’s all connected to one mind,” she answered, turning lifting her head from the paper to look at her. Zephyriah always tried to maintain eye contact whenever she spoke with them. In this case, her gray eyes locked on to Madison’s brilliant blue—the sophomore girl had very pretty eyes. She didn’t mind her barrage of questions, as she reminded Zephyriah very much of her own younger brother, Nicholas, who always had more queries than solutions. “I can sense things from practically any perspective that I choose.”

Deciding to confide in Madison, she lifted her left hand didactically. And with a gentle curl of her slender fingers, Zephyriah seemed to be brushing nothing more than air. However, she focused from a perspective just behind Madison, and with the curl of her fingers, she remotely and gently brushed Madison’s bangs from aside her face. It was an invisible motion, but Zephyriah felt confident that the girl could sense what her intention was. “I can do things like that,” she said flatly, almost with a tinge of regret, “but I’m afraid it’s not an extraordinarily useful ability.” There was a degree of tangibility to her ability, but the tangibility could only involve what she would be able to do herself.

At her final question, Zephyriah paused briefly, lowering her shading pencil, before she decided to provide an answer: “Well, I am currently stuck on my Yale essay.”

Zephyriah's powers seemed awfully complicated. The explanation seemed to bring more questions than answers. It seemed to be one of those things it took forever to understand, and even then, you weren't likely to ever fully understand it. The kind of powers that only someone who possessed them could understand. Madison wondered if even those who were omnipresent fully understood their powers, and how long it took them to understand it all. Air manipulation, or "airbending", as Madison liked to call it, was fairly simple for her to understand. There were more advanced techniques that she didn't know existed until she started at Aura, and continued to learn new things every day, but she'd always had a basic idea. Omnipresence, on the other hand, was a lot trickier.

"That sounds really complicated." Madison said. "To be able to be in multiple places like that without your brain going into overdrive. How many places are you able to be in at once? And how far are the places you can be in? Can people see you when you're in other places? Sorry for the interrogation, but your powers seem so interesting."

It was strange, that in a school full of kids with powers- heck, being born into a family of people with magic abilities, that Madison could still be in awe of certain powers. But that was Madison. Curious, and once something piqued her interest, she became fascinated very quickly. And omnipresence seemed so complicated and mysterious to Madison that she couldn't help but want to learn more about it. She liked that everyone at Aura had so many different kinds of powers, and even if some had the same powers, they had different stories about how and when they discovered they possessed them.

"Wow, Yale. What are you planning to major in?" she asked.

It did not seem like Madison was all that impressed by her little display, but Zephyriah disregarded it. She noticed that the girl seemed more intrigued than anything else, and practically braced herself for the next wave of questions. For someone whom she had thought would be quiet and reserved, Madison was anything but. Somehow, even though she usually disliked lengthy interrogations, maybe it was the soft and innocent curiosity—curiosity that Zephyriah could relate too—or perhaps the topic of discussion, but the senior did not feel at all troubled by the questioning.

But, by the time Madison was keen on asking more questions, Zephyriah realized that she had received little information in return. She would have to address that situation, as it was intolerable for someone as inquisitive as Zephyriah to surrender information without getting some in exchange. There was something inherently unbalanced and onerous about that. Of course, she had no intention of voicing such a petty opinion to Madison, as something like needed no expression, but she did intend on changing the circumstances.

“Well, it is quite an experience, but you eventually get the hang of receiving sensory input from a variety of places. And no, no one can perceive you there. It’s just like the old adage about spirits being ubiquitous,” she said, trying to avoid the saying about how ‘God’ was everywhere, as she did not intend to be so megalomaniacal. “But, if I try, I can actually affect the environment there, like I just did.”

Interesting. To Madison, her powers seemed interesting—words that she would not have used to describe them. For her, they were so mundane, such an ordinary facet of life that she could hardly imagine them without it. It was like another sense for her, another extension of her everyday world. The removal of her power would be akin to a person going blind, or suddenly losing their hearing. She realized that she could never truly comprehend just how much perception she would lose without her powers, but she did get a glimmer when she was with Joe.

“It’s just the application essay,” she said flatly, “I’m probably not going to get in.”

"Well, I guess since you've had it so long, it's not as big of a deal. I guess to the average person, my air manipulation is a huge deal. But still, I like learning about other people's powers- well, if they're different from mine. It's kind of random, I know." Madison liked learning in general- well, except for boring things like geometry. She was the kind of person who lost track of time when on Wikipedia, clicking link after link. Not that it was the most accurate site, but it was fun and addictive.

"It does seem like a pretty cool power to have, though. I guess it's pretty rare- is it? I don't know anyone else here with it." Granted, Madison hadn't met everyone in school, but she figured if omnipresence was all that common, she would have known at least one other person who possessed it. She knew quite a few other "airbenders". Elemental powers in general seemed to be pretty common. Though some mental powers were common as well, a few of them were amongst the rarer kinds of powers around the school. Or at least that was the way it was amongst those Madison knew.

"Well, you never know." True, Yale was practically impossible to get into, but Aura was a prestigious school, which always helped, and from what little she knew of Zephyriah, she'd known she was at least a good student and in a lot of clubs.

Staring at the window, Madison couldn't help but think of how foreign this weather was to her. She was from Southern California, so this kind of whether was uncomfortable and overwhelming. Still, she could appreciate its beauty. "I love the way snow seems to sparkle when the sun hits it." she commented offhandedly.

“I guess it wouldn’t,” Zephyriah chuckled a bit. She had lived with the ability for so long that it was a strange thought to think of life before she had it. The onset of her ability had been so subtle, and it was a gradual process while she discovered that she could do more and more with her ability. In fact, Zephyriah could never tell exactly what she witnessed was because of her power or because she was actually physically in the region. They had all blurred into one large memory, and even at her best attempts to poke at events that preceded or proceeded her power, she lacked the ability to sort them. The old adage was that if you could see yourself in a memory, the memory never actually happened, but that adage went out of the window for Zephyriah; she could always see herself with or without a mirror, and from any angle that she pleased.

“Phoebe also has it,” she replied lightly, hardly bothering to lift her glance from her sketchpad. The lines that Zephyriah had drawn over the page were already beginning to take the form of the beginnings of a landscape drawing; Zephyriah was always very quick with the sketching part of her drawings. The shading was a different matter; she took incredible care in shading, and knew the different effect of visible crosshatch or practically invisible brush strokes. Feeling though, that she had left the statement a bit ambiguous, and perhaps a bit cold, she elaborated, “Phoebe Stavros. I’m not sure if you know her, but she knows your sister.”

She didn’t elaborate on which sister, but Zephyriah somehow got the sense that Madison knew she had meant Kallan. Something in her tone must have conveyed as much, as she did not say anything further. If Madison needed clarification, Zephyriah had no doubt that she would ask her. The girl was quite nice, and had even ad encouraging words to say about her Yale essay, which had stumped her for some time now. The essay prompt had been remarkably ambiguous, “tell us something we could not learn from your application.” She could have said an infinite number of things, but none of them seemed appropriate or stellar enough to earn her admission. Zephyriah as, aside from her little gift, an absolutely ordinary girl, living in a mundane family situation (although she never had an issue with disposable income or wealth), and had a very typical life. She had no extraordinary leadership quality, no brilliant talent, and no tremendous accomplishment. The application process had made her feel very small and helpless. She glanced back at her sketchbook, with a look that had a tinge of melancholy.

She had been quite sensitive leading up to her meeting with Madison, and art always put her in an emotive mood, but the feelings seemed almost overwhelming. The application rush, the first semester finals, the Masquerade Ball and social pressures, and her laundry list of clubs and activities that each had their own demands on her time and dedication. She felt stretched and beleaguered.

"I love the way snow seems to sparkle when the sun hits it,” Madison said.

Completely silent, Zephyriah lifted her glance to look outside again, noting specifically what Madison had observed. She nodded mutely in agreement, figuring the wordless gesture was the culmination of her sentiments. But she also felt that it would be dreadfully impolite of her to disregard a statement, especially one that could be interpreted as a gambit to start a conversation. “Yes, very beautiful,” she managed to say defeatedly.

"I guess it's normal to be more curious about something you don't have or don't know much about, than something that's familiar." Madison mused. "Then again, maybe that's just me, and no one would ever put 'normal' and 'Madison Black' in the same sentence." Which made Madison remember that it was equally normal for people to reject and shun the unknown and unfamiliar, to the point of hatred sometimes. In many cases, it was their loss, but when people got hurt, it was just too much. Madison wondered what would happen if it ever got out that this school existed. What would people try to do to them? She wondered if they were already some kind of lab rats for the government to observe. The thought creeped her out, and she wondered if the government was willing to do something awful to the students to prevent word getting out or for some other reason, like fear that they were too powerful.

"Phoebe Stavros?" Madison paused to jog her memory, quickly putting a face to the name. "I think she might know Kay, seeing as she seems to think I'm her." She laughed. "I have the feeling she doesn't know that Kay's a twin." If Phoebe knew that Kallan had a twin, she'd probably bother to ask which twin was which, or make it obvious she'd just made a mistake, maybe try to clear things up. Of course, Madison could have told her the truth, but she wanted to see how long it would take for Phoebe to figure things out. She'd tell her if asked, though.

"Yeah, snow is so... new to me." Madison said dreamily. "It's not like I never see it, but it's very rare. My family's been skiing a few times, but that's it. And when we go to New York City, but it's not nearly as pretty over there. It gets all dirty and slushy in the city. Not that I don't like it there- I like it better than L.A., but it's not as nice to look at as more... secluded locations. It's got it's plusses, though. It can be really fun, so much to do. What's your favorite place to visit?"

“Quite right,” Zephyriah mused. Things that went against people’s preconceived schemas did stand out. It was a natural and obvious cognitive function, and she wasn’t at all surprised that Madison had chosen to question her about it. But, her reaction of curiosity did tell Adelphie quite a few things. The most glaring of which was that Madison obviously held little to no reservation about initiating conversation with her, and the other was that she was completely comfortable with speaking to her—she had long since deemed that Zephyriah would be no threat to her in any conceivable way. The disarmament, especially out of an underclassman, was remarkably fast. The senior concluded that Madison was an extremely open and congenial person by trade.

Her fingers glissaded a few more times over her sketchpad, as her the barebones for her landscape were already rounding into place. She casually switched to a shading pencil, and started filling in some of the more obvious shadows. The beauty of the snow was that it lit up marvelously, and the action of shading was less darkening as it was an emphasis of the light. Adelphie always had what she would probably describe as an out of body experience whenever she chose to shade, and this time was no different. She imagined—or perhaps used her power actually to see—the landscape from a variety of perspectives. Somehow, the viewing of other angles made hers seem even more spectacular.

“I’m from California myself,” Zephyriah mused, “so I rarely see snow also. Maybe that’s why I want to draw it.” There were other reasons, she was sure. As soon as the explanation left her mouth, she knew that it was wholly inadequate. The rarity of snow-covered landscapes did not begin to capture the magnanimity of her desire to encapsulate it in art. She could not describe other factors with the words at her disposal.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Milan.” The city was grand and romantic, at least in her view. She had a friend back home who was her age, but she already had her own flat in Milan, and a six figure modeling contract with the company there. She certainly did not do it for the money, and Zephyriah knew that there were better positions afforded to a girl of her stature, but it seemed such a glamorous and fashionable position that she found herself fantasizing about the lifestyle from time to time. She didn’t know f she could survive a model’s schedule, and Zephyriah had never been the best with a camera, nor did she figure that she had the classic looks, but living in beautiful European cities and touring the countryside for shoots did seem like a lavish and wonderful lifestyle.

“Though,” she interrupted her own thoughts, the slightest hint of mischief in her voice. Zephyriah often had a way with subtlety, whether it was the tone and stress of her speech, or the minute expressions on her speech, or perhaps the slightest of changes in her body language, but she had a manner of expression that went beyond her impressive lexis. “I don’t believe I know your power yet.”

Madison's brow furrowed as she began painting a tree. It took her a shorter time to paint the tree than it usually did when there were leaves or blossoms. Not that she minded the leaves and blossoms. The blossoms were beautiful, and she loved painting leaves, whether they were a rich green or an assortment of bright colors. The snow was fun to paint, too. But no matter what was on the tree, there was no possible way she would finish her painting before classes resumed. Which was fine with her, as she could always return to it later. The light would probably be different, as well as a few other details, but she could adapt. She always did.

"Oh, you're from California, too?" Madison asked. "What city? I know how you feel. I've only had two white Christmases, and that's when we weren't spending Christmas at home. I don't mind warm Christmases, since I'm used to them. Snow isn't really the be-all and end-all of Christmas, anyway. There are so much more important things."

"Milan? I've never been there myself, but Italy sounds nice. I'd like to travel all over Europe one day- maybe right after I graduate. Problem is, I only speak English and French. If only my powers involved being able to speak any language." Powers like that seemed insignificant to some people, who only thought big and flashy combative powers were worth anything, but Madison thought a lot of the more subtle powers would be frequently useful, and you might be able to use them in front of regular people without them realizing you were gifted with powers."

Madison looked at Zephyriah. "I can manipulate wind and air." she said with a little smile. As much as she admired and was intrigued by others' powers, and knew hers was very common, she wouldn't trade it for anything. She couldn't imagine not being an airbender.

White Christmases were completely new to her. Zephyriah had seen snow plenty of times, but she always managed to retreat to warmer weather whenever it was time to celebrate the holidays. She had witnessed white Christmases with her power, but she had never had the pleasure of physically experimenting it. The actual Christmas couldn’t have been too different to her, as she could easily envision the snow, the cold, and the family festivities, but the combination of the three had never occurred in her short lifespan.

“I’m from Atherton,” she said. It was somewhat funny that she identified more with the community that she resided in rather than the city at large, but maybe because Atherton was in a bubble. The town was exceedingly wealthy—one of the wealthiest concentrations in the world—and her neighbors all had enormous estates complete with lush landscapes and fantastic views. Atherton was in a bubble, and that was what she knew to be home. She figured that she owed Madison a bit more of an explanation though, as she doubted the girl knew the area, “it’s in the Bay Area.”

“…I only speak English and French,” Madison said.

Zephyriah spoke a few other languages, mainly French and some Greek, but she was also semi-fluent in Italian and could understand some barebones conversations in Spanish. Really, though, once one mastered a Romance language, it was rather simple to understand some bits and scraps of another Romance language. After knowing some Italian and French, the latter fluently, she could pick out words, phrases, and the meaning from the text of a half a dozen of other languages. “Languages can be learned,” she smiled. Linguistics was a bit of a passion for Zephyriah, and she certainly hoped that she would have the opportunity to learn many more languages in her lifetime.

She nodded approvingly at Madison’s power. Manipulating the air seemed to have a variety of advantages. It was a flashier power than her own, she figured, but it could also have a variety of quiet applications. “Next time these frozen New York gusts nearly kill me, I’ll be sure to look in your direction,” she winked.