2

It took another half hour to register and finally get my schedule, with a handbook and a map of the school. I heard the bell go off while I was in the office with the principal. He didn’t scowl at me for being so late. Instead, he was praising me for my good grades, which apparently is what “all students should strive for”.

I left the office at 10:10. Everyone was already in third period. I had Art during that hour, which was a relief. While I didn’t doubt myself with core classes, such as Math or Science, it was nice to have an easy going course before taking on the main classes.

As I made my way to my classroom, I started feeling anxious. It was late September and I was starting my sophomore year in a new school, far away from what I used to consider home.

Last week during my birthday party, my parents announced that since I was turning sixteen, it was time to move to a place more suited for us. Dad’s idea for a suitable home was in the middle of nowhere, in a town surrounded by trees and greenery.

The Legen

It all started when I turned thirteen. I was getting ready to go to my grandma’s house from my dad’s side of the family, to celebrate my birthday. I was really close to my grandmother and it was she who planned my birthday party.

“Cassidy, hurry up! We’re already cutting it close as it is!” My dad yelled from downstairs.

I was trying to put on my earrings as quickly as possible.

“I’m coming!” I replied excitedly.

I was about to grab the door handle, when a sharp pain erupted throughout my back. I yelled as I felt ripples of pain go from my lower back up to my shoulder blades. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but my back felt like it was being stabbed by needles repeatedly.

My yelling was getting louder and I was panting and out of breath.

At that moment, my dad burst through the door with my mom following close behind.

“Dad… It hurts so much,” I cried.

My dad held me in his arms and carried me to the bed.

“Mark, it’s happening,” I heard my mom cry before everything went black.

The days that followed were a blur. I drifted in and out of sleep. I remained in bed for an entire week, barely able to move.

It was then when everything in my life changed.

The pain in my back was my body adjusting to the wings that had taken thirteen years to develop. When my birthday came around, they made an appearance. My body was forming the proper breakage to fit the wings in my back.

The white feathery wings were the first change.

If I regularly used my wings and practiced with my gifts, I would be very strong. It was strange how if I went a certain distance up in the air, no one could see me. I became invisible. My mother told me it was to protect what we were. Disappearing made it safer to fly without being noticed by the humans.

At first, I didn’t know where all the changes came from. It was later when my first gift showed up, that my mom explained I had received these gifts from her.

She told me her family came from a long line of Legens, which was what I was. No one had developed the gene in centuries and I happened to be the first lucky one to receive it. Legens were meant to be the guardians of kingdoms. Humans were considered weak back then and needed protection from any kind of harm.

When times started to change and the world modernized, Legens started disappearing. All that remained of them were tales of those days. Books from my mother’s ancestors were the only things guiding us with what I had become. According to my mother, our ancestors had anxiously awaited the apparition of a new Legen.

I had never seen my mom as happy as the day the wings sprouted from my back for the first time. With that first change, my five senses became significantly enhanced.

According to the books, I was supposed to get three gifts and an element between my thirteenth and my seventeenth birthday. When I completed the process, I would become a full-fledged Legen. I had a strong mind, which simplified being intelligent with anything academic.

Telekinesis came a year after I received my wings. I was dancing around with my iPod when I tripped with the coffee table. A vase was about to fall down and I put my hands out, trying to stop it. I did stop it, but not how I intended to. The vase was floating midair. When I moved my hands, the vase moved with them.

The day I turned fifteen, I wanted so badly to go to an under twenty-one club with my friends. My parents thought it was a bad idea so they wouldn’t let me go. I got really angry at them.

My anger somehow seemed to mesh with the sky turning dark outside. When I yelled at my parents, thunder erupted from the sky. That day, I learned I was able to control thunder, a gift that was as confusing to my parents as it was to me.

Last week, during my birthday celebration, my friend broke a glass in a restaurant we were dining in. While I was trying to move the glass away, I accidently slashed my hand with the sharp edges. Not five seconds later, the cut had healed.

I pretended to be in pain to cover up the non-existent injury. I went straight home and showed my mom. The last time I saw her that happy was when I showed her my wings.

I purposely injured myself to test how strong the healing was. All of the cuts that I made healed. The bruises were the only thing that seemed to heal in regular time. For some reason, my bruises remained even after everything else healed away.

The risk that came with my gifts what was drove my family to the middle of nowhere.

Standing outside of my new art class brought back the dread of being the newbie in town. I inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” The teacher yelled from inside the classroom.

Right after stepping in, all eyes were on me. I stood awkwardly next to the door, not knowing which way to go. The room had five rectangular tables with three or four students in each.