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I sat, back straight, on a wooden bench outside of my classroom. Long, empty stone hallways extended out to my left and right, dimly lit by dancing torches. I always got to my classes earlier then the other students, and sometimes even the teacher. I looked down the eerie corridors, and through the large square windows to look at the early morning sunrise. The bright stars faded as the sky transformed from black to light blue. I sighed deeply and I rested my back against the wall behind me, looking up at the ceiling. Having a few more moments alone, I closed my eyes for a bit of resting time before the other students came, and ruined the sweet silence. It was nice to be alone for the few moments I had before my classmates’ voices echoed nearby. I quickly drew the hood of my black coat over my head. No one has ever seen my face, I’ve earned many strange nicknames, because all anyone ever sees of me are the clothes I wear.
The voices get louder and more distinct as the cluster of people rounded the corner and started to walk toward me. Light from the gradually climbing sun was blocked, as the figures moved closer. The group consisted of four students and their elderly teacher. I stood up slowly and brushed my cloak off, turned to the door behind me, and opened the door for my fellow classmates and Sensei. The small man strutted forward, carrying multiple ancient books and pieces of parchment, some of which were ready to fall out of his skinny fingers. Our educator had a long face and all the hair that was supposed to be on his head was in his bushy grey beard that covered the whole bottom half of his face. His eyes were a swirl of green and grey. He wore an old, dirty brown robe with tan trimming and, like the rest of us, wore basic wooden sandals. As he walked past me, he dropped a packet of papers. When he bent over to pick them up, he stopped short when he saw I was holding the articles for him to reorganize. He took them gently from me and smiled at me before walking in to the small room to begin today’s class.
The four students followed quietly behind our teacher, each in my opinion, stranger then the last. A young man was the first to enter, he looked around seventeen. His strides were long and he kept his hands lased behind him, like a scientist making observations. He was the tallest of the group and had a nice build, maybe he worked out in his free time. A grey body-tight shirt covered his chest, and over that was an open blue vest. His long pants were made of the same blue cloth. A crocheted hat, which colors ranged from snow white to black, hid the color of his hair from me. Bright blue eyes hinted that his hair color was most possibly a type of blond.