And as time continues to turn
It is hard to ignore how people lie, how they toss words to cover their actions. Sometimes I'm left to wonder why, why use hollow words when you won't even try to act, why pretend to care.
They claim to care and to accept, and yet I am left alone to be mocked and ignored. How contrary they dance with tongue and life, how strange I live for others to see.
Sometimes I'm left to wonder why people care so much about each other. Here I lay staring upon starry nights, lost to the world as it was always going to be.
Sometimes I'm left baffled by the flow of time, how linear it appears, but this castle holds people who deny that lie. People who I have already met and yet deny that truth, or who I meet for the first time and accept so sincerely. They see me as strange for calling out their disjointed flow, afraid or confused hides their eyes.
Classes follow patterns and show possibilities, but never the rules or logic. Why should the world obey our wills, to let us deny gravity or change objects impossibly. Why should magic encompass all but have limits in its capability.
Books show neither the method nor the knowledge as to why, it is annoying to be surrounded in endless knowledge and to never find the answer.
The stars are unfamiliar, they exist so slightly off and follow normalcy in where they shine. The cold tiles that make these roofs force unwanted awakeness upon myself.
And yet in the distance I see kids and a giant wander off into the forest, the one with fame unwanted and yet invites so much of it how carelessly they stride, the boy with hidden courage and the intelligent ignorant girl hold more distance than before. The boy who holds lineage deeply like a chain that binds them, acts arrogantly but is clearly afraid, how strange for them to wander into that place.
But as the moonlight shines upon my eyes tiredness hits my body, what good would it do to follow those fools into a dangerous place. Bed calls for my tired self and who am I to refuse?
Theories and concepts, what could magic be? That single question is too hard to answer alone. It is known that magic can interfere with the world in unique ways that seemingly defies the common rules, it is also known that unique beings are capable of performing magic through rituals they call spells. However to counter the ritual idea it is possible to use magic without words or a wand, to supplement the spell with will or intent.
It is also important to note that the ability to use magic is commonly inherited, but there are clearly exceptions to this idea.
Magical creatures are also an interesting concept, how can the influence of 'magic' allow for creatures to develop in such ways. Currently, I believe magic allows creatures to supplement normal growth and additionally allows them to develop unique traits.
Magical creatures hold similar traits as a species, therefore magic has to react similarly based on something. Spells also encourage this notion, which suggests magic holds rules for interaction.
Objects can be influenced by magic, which means that magic isn't due to a trait of living, but the ability to utilise magic is certainly influenced by it.
Left alone with unfounded ideas, time passes by with nothing developed. The stares that others have given me have died down, like a shallow acceptance that I won't change. Left alone in this library with only that girl who calls herself Hermione, I am left to ponder.
Theories I develop are left untestable, for what methods could even be used to solve these ideas. I'm left here to see a girl not quite as lonely as me, with friends who would help and yet alone she is left. Foolish boys leave a brilliant mind in loneliness, and yet she treats me as harshly as the rest.
It is strange to feel time bend so artificially, normally it flows unstablely with no rhyme nor reason, acceptably it flows in a linear fashion. However in this castle some points go backwards and people arrive from them, going across their day in a different manner.
Feeling time rewinding is certainly one thing, it is another to see the result of it, to see someone exiting that backwards time. Tiredness is all they hold in those eyes, slowly they drag their feet, too slowly to avoid me.
"It's been a long day hasn't it, it is a pleasure to see you again." I call upon that tired student, with a courtesy to go with that ending. "It bewilders me as to how you always find me, but how can the day be long already if it is only the morning?" The tired senior questions as if the answer is unclear. "You know that lie isn't enough to fool me dear Sennie."
"You always speak as if the answer is clear, and I don't suppose you are trying to follow me into my class again, are you?"
"The second always goes to arthimancy, and complains of the resulting tiredness, why should I not follow my friend to an interesting class?"
"...Second? What strange things have you made up now, and isn't getting yelled at by the teacher enough of a reason?"
"In contrary, the teacher has grown fond of myself as I am more capable than half the people who take that course, and is it not obvious that the second refers to the number of times you lived through a day?"
"You are delusional, a day only goes once, and do I need to remind you that the people you call incapable are the best of my year."
"The best defends the others, but never did I call them lacking, only myself abnormal."
"An--" a wonderful lecture about time sorely interrupted by walking into the classroom door, how poetic for a friend I made to be so lost in space. Though the glare they give me is highly unearned, maybe I should tease the first about watching out for doors.
Snatching a desk, and waiting for the lecture to start perhaps some gossip to pass the time, "I saw some first years enter the forbidden forest last night." That glare they give is so bad, it rivals when I suggested to drop some classes to get some rest.
"Did they make it out alive?"
"At least one did, though I hope none died while with a guardian."
"A guardian, to the forbidden forest, at night. What kind of situation could first years end up in to lead to that."
"Well they were the problem children, so I assume something dumb and that was the dumber punishment."
"You re-" a slamming door interrupts my seniors jest, and the class begins stealing attention away from the gossip, for us but clearly not others. The concepts in arthimancy is much more useful than anything else for developing answers to how magic works, plants are annoying and the culture is too racist to consider creatures, while the rest of magic was more of guidelines to how it works.
This lesson though is merely the basics of space, or more accurately how to calculate various ideas about space, from volumes to distances, perhaps just another building block for what is to come. Though the struggle people have with mere multiplication, terrifies me on what is to result from this class.
Maybe the hatred built on myself is just the product of my results, reaching further than most students and yet avoiding class as much as possible. Idle thoughts are all that reach my self, as the falsely timid teacher asks of my tendency of absence in class. How could anyone believe such a stutter was real baffles me, half the time it doesn't even make sense.
Though unfairly I am the student, and so I must attend class even if half the things taught are easier to learn from a book. Perhaps even this can be considered normal, a simple test and a dull lesson and with the wake of my tiredness the world fades out.