Aiia - Part 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short story that will go up in pieces.

Submitted: November 28, 2011

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Submitted: November 28, 2011

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Chapter One

His lecture was nearly through, thankfully. Unfortunatly covering ancient Sumerian history wasn't something he could spice up too much without elluding to his own firsthand knowledge.

That's fine, the one's who were truly interested paid absolute attention when he spoke, taking furious notes and asking questions. The others though, they'd do enough to slide by with their barely passing grade, many of them taking the class for the opportunity to spends a four hours a week fantascizing about their gorgeous intructor.

He'd never understand mortals.

He skimmed their minds, today was the start of a new semester, and he had a class full of shiny new freshman faces.

Thoughts and images crowded his mind everything from the blonde in front wondering what he looked like naked to the transgender in back wondering if anyone could tell he used to be a woman. All but one, in front, taking notes methodically and asking too-intelligent questions, sat a curvy brunette.

Her short brown hair was cut in a simple, easily maintained a-line, and she dressed comfortably in baggy jeans and a loose wife-beater, hiding a generously curved and muscular figure. Blue framed glasses perched on a small, freckled, upturned nose; and she rarely looked directly at him.

Most frustratingly, he couldn't read her thoughts.

As he wrapped up the lecture, and issued out the first bit of homework he watched her out of the corner of his vision.

She packed up her belongings as the other students filed out of the lecture hall, her notebook set off to the side, notes scrawled in ancient Gaulish...noone can cheat off notes noone can read anymore. Without paying attention she reaches for the notebook...

Her hand brushes the edge of the notebook as it's picked up and she glances up in suprise at Dr. Alulim.

Hazel-green eyes flickered briefly across the page, darkening as he hands it back to her, "Miss..." He leaves the question open-ended.

"Umm...Parker..Aiia Parker.." The girl stammers out her reply, and he feels a shiver flicker up his spine, her voice is a silken caress.

A slow, charming smile flickers to life on his face as he leans against the edge of the table.

"Tell me, Aiia Parker, where'd you learn a lost, dead version of Gaulish?"

Between the low, seductive rumble to his voice, and the sinfully beautiful build that has a quiet menacing violence to it, she stutters across her answer.

"I..um..." She chews her lip, and he can sense the lie building, "My grandmother taught it to me..."

Almost a lie...but not quite, and his brows come together. "Hm...she must be a fascinating woman."

She hastily shoves her notebook in her bag, and bolts from the room.

****

Her heart pounded. Going to college was a decision she very stubbornly stood by, despite the dangers of who and what she was. She leans hard against the wall, drawing deep calming breaths, while she grounds and centers.

Basics, Aiia, Basics. She reminds herself, pulling her shields around her in a tight weave of energy. She knows it'll make her sparkle to someone with the right Sights. But the chances of running into that sort of person were pretty slim.

For now she was just dealing with an overly attractive Professor who knew as much about dead civilizations as she did, probably more.

Attractive, intelligent men made her nervous. Men in general made her nervous, but coupling that with attractive and intelligent and it was dangerous. Those were the type of men that tended to be ruthless as well, and her minimal experience in dealing with them wasn't equipped for one on one attention from Dr. Alulim.

She loved the Cambridge campus, the UK was filled with trees and greenery, and it make her heart sing.

She turns a corner, and ducks into a small grove. The trees rustle their welcome to the Morrigan's youngest daughter, and the Demi-Goddess smiles warmly.  She sits down, sliding her shoes off her feet and burying them in the damp soil, drawing a deep breath.

Most her classes she was fine, never really talked to anyone, never really taking notes. She remembered everything she was told, and could recite it back. Her memory was her best asset.

But being raised in private, all girls’ schools and in the Summer Lands didn't do much for her social education, or dealing with boys, her mother made very sure to keep that away from her daughter.

 

 


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