“-and I’m an orphan.”

Barbie raised her eyebrow, a questioning look plastered upon her face.

 “Since?”

“Since……Forever I guess. You see, I’m adopted. My foster-parents adopted me when I was still a baby. So, yeah, they did convince me that I’m their real daughter for awhile, and then…”

“Then?” Barbie asked impatiently.

Even smiled, “Then I learn math.”

“Huh?”

“I did some calculating and research, and judging by all of those, I figured out that they were not my parents.”

Barbie felt silenced.

“I mean, I don’t really need all of those information. Their ages gave it away.”

“Their ages?” Barbie asked.

Even nodded, “Yeah, their ages. Judging from my calculations, my mother had to be 18 when she gave birth to me, which would have made her 17 when she conceived me.” She stopped.

Barbie gave her a questioning look, ehem, again, “And….?”

“Well, I don’t know about all the girls out there, but my mother doesn’t really seem like someone who would…..you know…..conceive a child at 17.” Her face flushed.

This is so awkward.

The headmistress nodded slightly.

“Yes, she did get married at a young age, but still, she’s not one of those…Uhh…..People, and so is him.”

“Him?” Barbie asked.

“Her husband.” Even answered simply.

“Your father?”

“Foster-father, yes.”

The older woman nodded again, curving a new, but slightly weird smile. “I see. Well Even, are there any more to you than meets the eye?”

Meets the eye? How did she?

“My….My eyes?”

“Meets the eye, my dear, but I do see your point.”

Even stammered again, this woman was really starting to confuse her. “My point?”

“Yes, I see that you have beautiful eyes.”

“Uhh….They’re chocolate, yes. Pretty common don’t you think?”

“Brown eyes? Common? Yes, they are common. But the colours of your eyes? My, I’m afraid they’re far from what we call common. Even for special people like us.”

She…..My eyes? How did she……?

“Oh Even, there is no need to be feel a shame for your eyes, they’re beautiful.”

“They’re weird.”  Even corrected automatically.

“Different, yes, but that’s what separates you from other people. That’s what makes you, you.”

Wow, if the headmistress can come up with words like these, I’m eager to hear what the school psychiatrist will have to say.

Even decided to end the discussion about her heritage, “So, uh, what is my power? Or are people like us can do any magic we want?”

“Every, ah, special people like us has their own individual power, or powers. Some are born with them, some are mutated, and some are,” She stopped dramatically, much to Even’s dismay, “Not blessed with any.”

Even stared at her for awhile, “Then? How can they……..What’s mutated?”

“Hmm…Why don’t I start from the beginning? It would be much easier.”

Even nodded in agreement, “Sure.”

The Ice Lady (Even liked the nickname on her) gave her another smile, and started.

“You see Even, in this school-”

“Academy.”

Barbie seemed shocked, no, make that dumbfounded at the girl’s correction to her, but, exactly 2 seconds later, the Ice Headmisstress’ (Yet, another nickname from Even’s genius mind) faded blue eyed twinkled in impressments. “Yes, Academy.”

“Uh, sorry, force of habit, well, not really. Do continue.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Even.”

Even looked down, nodding awkwardly, “Uh, yeah.”

There was an itsy-bitsy length of silence in the room.

“Very well,” Barbie said. “As I was saying, in this academy, there are 3 types of students. There are those who most people are common with, Wizards and Witches. Wizard or Witches is someone who was born with powers, the powers came from the blood-line, the family generations. Wizards and Witches have their own powers illustrated from birth, but they can, however, learn other powers.”

“Like…..If this Wizard A can read minds from birth, he or she can learn and do other magic that he or she did not have from birth?” Even asked.

“He.”   

“Huh?”

“A Wizard, is the term for male, whereas a Witch, is the term for a female. But other than that, you are correct.”

Even mentally slapped herself in her head, and make a note, to slap her self again, physically, with her own hand. Hard.

“Uh, yeah. I forgot.” She lied, though she somehow knew it’s not going to help her shield her embarrassment.

“I see, well, let’s move on, shall we? The second category, is Mutated. Students in this category are someone who has power caused by an item. They do not possess their power from birth, as they are more likely to get their powers from an item.”

“You said that.”

“A’ha.”

“Did you just A’ha me, Ice Lady?”

“Ice Lady?”

“Uh, never mind, back to the mutants.”

“Mutates.”

“Whatever.”

Barbie sighed, “I see what your mother meant, you are quite a handful,”

The young lady stammered, “M….My mother? You know my mother?”

“Your foster mother, yes. We went to school here together, excellent student.”

“She was a student here?”

“Yes, indeed. So, Mutates can also get their power from their family’s blood-line. For example, if their mother was a Mutate, they can be one too. But the chances of being a Mutant are very slim, as their DNA from their parents consists more of, ah, normal people’s DNA. As one of their parents is also half-blooded from their powers, and their father is normal, when conceive-”

Even understood only 10% of what the Ice Lady was saying, but no one needs to know that, right?

“Uh, Headmistress Barbie?” She interrupted.

“Yes?”

“I think I got it.” She lied, “No need to be too detailed about it.”

“Oh, okay then. And lastly, we have Object-Based category. People with Object-Based do not have absolute power what-so-ever in their body, they rely their powers on items. Magic Lockets, Enchanted weapons, even deadly potions! Take your pick.”

“Uhh…….I’d like to take the Magic Locket.” She chose.

The Headmistress’ eyes focused on Even’s neck. Where her locket hanged. The locket was gray in colour and a shining-heart-shape.

“You already have one.” The older lady said.

Even looked down to her locket, eying it curiously, “This locket? My mother gave it to me when I was, like, 3.”

“Your mother gave it? I see. Make sense.”

“What are you saying? My mother……….She’s a mutant?”

“Mutate, and no, she wasn’t one. Your dear petite mother, is a witch.”

“A’ha! I knew it!”

“Huh?”

Even slumped her body against the glass table, making the headmistress shrieked backwards, “When I was a kid, I hated Onions, I still do by the way. But when my mom told me to eat it, I did, and you have no idea how I hate Onions! Awful!”

The Ice Lady (Still loving the nickname.) cocked her eyebrow, “A trait you share with your father?”