A Calming Prescence

Elise is too smart for her own good.
She's also a demigod.
A demigod with a difference.

Then meet Mya, a monster with no memory.
She's also been created to kill Elise.
And by the looks of things, nothing's going to stop her.

(We do not own the passage from J. K. Rowling's 'Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them'. Thank you.)
For the Battle of the Fandoms competition.

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1. Don't Fall Asleep In Class, Kids -Elise

     Social studies. Also known as the most boring class in the history of the world.

     Sometimes, I'll wish that I was born a different nationality, so that I didn't have to hear everything I know already about the American Revolution repeated every year. Seriously, it seems like they've been teaching it since it happened. I'd much rather learn about something really interesting, like the Trojan War, where the Greeks defeated their enemies without muskets or bayonets. Though I've heard the story a million and one times, because my dad used to tell me it before I went to bed when I was younger, it still gives me a rush when I read about it.

     But, instead, I'm stuck in the gifted-and-talented classroom, the teacher pretty much ignoring me,  reading Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them by J. K Rowling.

Again.

     The page is open to one of the creatures that I find the most fascinating; I've read ahead, skipping past the more boring Knarl and Puffskein.

CHIMAERA

M. O. M. Classification: XXXXX

The Chimaera is a rare Greek monster with a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and a dragon’s tail. Vicious and bloodthirsty, the Chimaera is extremely dangerous, There is only one known instance of the successful slaying of a Chimaera, and the unlucky wizard concerned fell to his death from his winged horse (see page 42) shortly afterwards, exhausted by his efforts. Chimaera eggs are classified as Class A Non-Tradeable Goods.

     In the margin, I trace over my own interpretation of the chimaera, blackening it even further. When I first drew it, it had barely been visible. Now, as I finished the tail, the black was dark enough to pass as pen, or maybe even marker, a huge step away from its beginnings of undetermined origin from a region of La-La Land known as Doodleania. Very classy.

     Suddenly, there's a loud, gravel-bouncing roar.

     My head whips round towards the window, and I peer out of the window, squinting up my eyes so I can see through the narrowly slitted blinds. 

     It starts pouring, and lightning cracks near my ear.

     But I'd bet my brain that that sound wasn't thunder.

     I turn away, trying to ignore the sound from the window as it grows louder and louder, but then, unable to resist the temptation, I turn back, to a window that's no longer there, attached to a wall which has somehow ceased to exist.

     I pinch myself.

     Yep, it's still gone.

      In its place is a lion's head, snarling drips of molten poison, its dragon's tail swirling above it, resembling some sort of demonic lasso.

      Now if I was a hero, someone like Achilles, fighting in the Trojan war, I would have stood my ground, maybe flung a few school pencils at the beast towering next to me.

      Regretfully, I'm not the Greek hero I want to be.

     In true New Yorker style, I tip back my head, and scream.

     Suddenly, my whole desk tips over, sending me flying. The girl sitting in front of me stares at me with an expression describable only as pure horror on her face, not bothering to apologise for trapping me beneath my desk in her haste to get away, before following the rest of the class which stampede out of the room faster than an implausibility of gnus, trampling through the rubble as the chimera continues to wreck havoc on the school. 

     I somehow make my way out of the twisted cage that was my desk, waving my arms and doing some sort of dance, which at best could count as a rain dance, at worst... Well, let's just say that I'd fit in nicely with aliens from Pluto. Through my smouldering hair, I watch as the monster tears down the rest of the school, scorching me with its fiery breath as it does so. I yell some more, and it glances over at me, the dragon's tail snapping at the sky like green lightning.

     "Hey, you! Pick on someone your own size!" I scream, trying to look defiant as my knees knock together like uncooked fish.

     Maybe this was the wrong choice of words.

     I doubt even Godzilla could take down this guy.

     It sneers at me, if that's what you could call it. Roaring, it plods closer, its mane cutting through the air as if it were a knife.

     "Cats don't like the rain, dumbo," I struggle to sound brave as it ignores me, licking its lips together in anticipation of what I taste like.

     I scrunch my eyes up, willing myself to calm down. I can't focus with this thing.

     For all of a second, it stops. Its eyes close and mouth opens, red tongue pressed against the roof.

     I blink, hardly believing what my eyes are showing me. This great, scary monster, the same creature which just tore down a school like building blocks... is yawning?

     Slowly, it starts moving toward me again, still with its mouth hanging agape. 

     I really don't want to fight this thing.

     It seems suicidal and, well, apart from the fact that it's against my nature, I don't know how. I mean, jeez, school's there to give you an education! Surely it could've warned me about something as huge as this!

     So, of course, I find myself talking to it.

     "Hey there, big guy. You look tired. Are you tired? Maybe you should lay down for a little and take a nap."

     I can't believe I'm talking to a chimaera. Even weirder is that I'm keeping my cool. Usual me doesn't do that. I don't think anyone does that. 

     Mind you, they probably wouldn't have time to before it ate them.

     The chimaera (get this) actually lies down in the middle of the courtyard and curls itself up between a couple of trees. It actually seems kinda cute, for a killer mutation that should have been dead a few thousand years ago. 

     I shudder.

     Finally, the teachers take charge, telling everyone that as of now, the school is closed. For six months. And during that time, we'll most certaintly have to find a new method of recieving education. How about trying St. Andrew's, the school about a mile away from this one? 

     On hearing this news, the shivering kids cheer, glad for the time away from class. 

     Everyone begins to walk home or calls their parents to come pick them up. I stay a little away; my parents work ‘til late at night, so usually I just hitch a ride home and dinner with a willing friend.

     Speaking of, here he comes now. My best friend (and my sort-of brother) since forever,

Benjamin.

     "Are you ok? How do you know how to direct air traffic? That helicopter was huge! Are you ok?" he raves, accentuating with wild arm gestures.

     "Hey, hey, I'm fine. And what are you talking about, directing air traffic? That wasn't-"

     This is where my good sense kicks in, and hard. Ben would take me away for the safety of myself and others if he thought that "helicopter" was an ancient Greek monster from who-knows-where.

     "Wasn't... that hard! I spend a lot of time at the airport, so, y'know..."

     Ok, so maybe it isn't that good of an excuse. But it's better than being locked in a padded cell.

     "Wanna walk home with me? Safety in numbers..." Now he's acting weird.

     "Uhh, sure, I guess."

     I wince. I’m a terrible liar.

     I guess I'll try to make the best of it for now.

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