The Magical Legacy

FAITH 9

VITTAJORD, DYRRHEIM - PRESENT DAY

Faith and Groa materialized into, what appeared to be, a large greenhouse with glass-paneled walls and a transparent ceiling. It was filled with a large variety of plants. There were trees laden with colorful fruit, flowering bushes, and pots of fragrant herbs. Here and there, throughout the school, Faith could see adults in sage-green smocks instructing teams of younger students. The trainees wore brown leather aprons, covering them from chest to knee, clear plastic goggles protecting their eyes, and many had what looked like surgeons gloves on their hands. Work stations where glass beakers or cauldrons bubbled and steamed dotted the space, and many different odors assaulted Faith's nose as they explored.

"Minerva!" Groa waved at an older woman busily wrapping a bundle of white sage, and the teacher looked up, over her little, round, wire-rimmed glasses, and flashed them a brilliant smile of recognition. Groa motioned for the woman to join them and she nodded affirmation, raising her index finger in the air. As Faith watched, the teacher removed a pair of gardening gloves, wiped her hands on the front of her smock, then turned and moved in their direction.

"Princess Groa!" The plump woman dipped into a slight curtsy and briefly bowed her head, "What purpose, might I ask, honors us with your presence this lovely day?" Her long, fuzzy gray hair sparkled with strands of aqua, violet, pink, and green. And there was a golden glow to her chocolate complexion as she pushed the spectacles up off the end of her nose and glanced in Faith's direction.

"I'd like to introduce you to our newest trainee. Princess Faith," she turned, motioning to the teen next to her, "is a brand new Healer. She is touring our facility to decide how she would like to proceed with her education."

Minerva extended her hand and Faith reached out to shake it.

"Welcome, Princess. I'm pleased to meet you."

Faith blushed at the use of her new title, but felt an immediate warmth radiating from the woman's touch that shifted her focus. The sensation moved up her arm, spreading to fill her head and chest. She closed her eyes momentarily, inhaling deeply, as she basked in the pleasant feeling. Groa raised her brows and tipped her head toward Minerva, and the two shared a meaningful, momentary gaze, before the instructor withdrew her hand. Faith opened her eyes and her cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she glanced from the woman, to her cousin, and back again.

"Uh-hem," she cleared her throat, "Yes, it's very nice to meet you, Ma'am." Faith looked down to her feet then quickly threw her hand up to adjust the tiara, which was slipping off her head.

Groa smiled down at Faith, "You'll get used to wearing that thing soon enough."

She turned toward the teacher and continued, "Would you mind showing Princess Faith around the facility for a few minutes? I have something I need to look into." Then, turning back to the girl, "Would that be alright with you? I'll be back shortly and we can continue the tour."

Faith opened her eyes wide and pursed her lips, nodding enthusiastically. "Sure, that's fine." She said, and Minerva replied, "I'd be happy to show Princess Faith around our wonderful school." The woman placed a hand on Faith's arm and they turned as Groa moved in the opposite direction. "Minerva, meet me at the west entrance in, say, 20 minutes?" She spoke over her shoulder. "Yes, your highness," the teacher replied, "we'll see you over there."

"So, Princess, tell me your story. How is it that you come to study at our fine academy?" Minerva strolled back toward the work station, where she had been making preparations, as they talked. "I presume you come from an angelic family?" She began, "And a royal one, at that." She motioned toward the crown on Faith's head.

"Well, kind of, I suppose." Faith felt self-conscious discussing her family situation, not really understanding all of the connections.

"Oh, I can see I've made you uncomfortable," Minerva touched Faith's shoulder and rolled her lips together. "I'm sorry, Princess. You don't need to share, if you don't want to." She came to a stop in front of a messy-looking counter-top.