"The Let Us In movement is calling for protests again. Thousands of Dark Mages and supporters worldwide are expected to protest in front of Light government buildings and homes to demand the inclusion of Dark and Twilit Mages into Light Mage spaces. For their safety, Light Mages are encouraged to stay home and avoid the protest sites if possible."

Raphael Day clicked his tongue and turned off the radio.

"What a headache," he muttered, stirring his coffee and turning away from the breakfast table to address his wife. "Rory, do you know if the school is safe?"

Aurora Huntington-Day closed the fridge, a bottle of freshly-made orange juice and a glass in her elegantly manicured hands. "As safe as can be," she replied, sitting down across from her husband and pouring herself some juice. "I checked with the school board. They've cast every protection spell they can find, you never know what these thugs are capable of."

"Good." Raphael Day took a sip from his coffee, giving himself a moment to relish the taste—the very best coffee the mundane world could produce, the flavor enriched by delicate magic. "Otherwise we'd have had to pull Finnian out of school."

His son, who hadn't been listening to the conversation up to this point, hastily looked up from the green tree python he had been occupied with. Finnian Day was fifteen and had the privilege of not needing to care for politics.

"Pull me out of school?" he asked, his normally cool gray eyes widening with outrage. "You can't do that, I have competitions coming up!"

"Right! Our little flying champion," his mother said with a fond smile. "But your safety is more important—you know that, right?"

Finnian crossed his arms. "I'm not some amateur, Mom," he replied, straightening his back to make himself look taller. "If any of those witches try to come for me, they're in for a nasty surprise!"

"Or you," his father remarked, unimpressed. "Don't forget you're the heir to the family estate. If they want any hostages, they'll go after you first."

Finnian visibly didn't like the suggestion much, but he still puffed up like a peacock at the mention of his family's status. "I can knock them all down," he declared. "Right, Anthony?"

Anthony the snake made no comment, though he did slither up along the table to look expectantly at Finnian until he was fed some fried egg.

"Pull me out of school," Finnian muttered under his breath as he grabbed his school bag, slipped on his expensive sneakers—newly bought for the start of sophomore year—and slipped into the shotgun seat of the car, where Lucy, the family's driver, was already waiting for him. "All because some idiots have broken a bunch of windows? Talk about paranoid!"

"Your dad's worried about you, you know," Lucy remarked without taking her gaze from the road. "You're the only son he has."

"Still," Finnian replied. "Why make me pay for this? It's not my fault these people can't control their violent urges!"

Lucy politely ignored that with the grace of an employee who had been around for so long that nothing short of a felony could get her fired now. Even after knowing her his whole life, Finnian could rarely tell what she was thinking. One time he had tried to use a mind-reading spell on her as a tween, only to find that all her thoughts had been about achey joints and an afternoon nap.

Weaving its way through the sunny streets of a late summer morning, somehow avoiding any and all traffic jams, the car finally pulled up in front of Saint Lucia's School of Light Magic, a large, modern building whose white walls flashed blindingly in the sunlight. Finnian's friends were already waiting for him at the entrance, and he hurried out of the car to catch up with them.

"You're late!" Cassander Fulbright greeted him as they exchanged a fist bump and a one-armed hug. "What happened, did you oversleep again?"

"No way," said Cassander's sister Elaine, who was a year above the boys. "His daddy didn't want to let him go to school until it was safe, am I right or am I right?"

Finnian rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me of that!" he said half indignantly, half miserably. "My dad was thinking about pulling me out of school. Can't these protesters get something better to do?"

"Beats me," Elaine replied, tucking a strand of golden-brown hair out of her face. "I'm not sure why they want in so badly in the first place, anyway. Like, don't they already have their own communities?"

"Never mind that," Cassander interrupted, clearly bored by all the politics. "Did you guys hear we're getting a new exchange student?"

"Obviously," Elaine said at the same time as Finnian said, "Really?"

Cassander nodded excitedly. "Some kid from Japan, I forgot his name," he said. "But I heard he's in competitive flying!" His green eyes turned expectantly on Finnian, who, sure enough, perked up with sudden interest.

"Flying?" he repeated, suddenly excited about the prospect of some fascinating foreigner who shared the same hobby as him. "I call dibs on his friendship!"

"That's what I thought you'd say," Cassander replied, looking satisfied to have read him right. It wasn't that much of an impressive feat, really, considering they had known each other since birth; but Finnian appreciated his thoughtfulness anyway.

"He better be good, our team needs good flyers again!" Finnian went on, walking through the sunlit hallway alongside his friends. "As long as he doesn't try to be better than me."

Cassander snorted. "I don't think that's possible."

"Me neither," Finnian declared smugly. "Have you seen him already?"

Cassander shook his head as Elaine nodded. "At least, I'm pretty sure that was him," she mused. "He's kind of cute, actually. But more pretty than handsome, so, like, not really my type."

Finnian and Cassander exchanged a knowing glance. There wasn't a boy in existence—or anyone of any gender, for that matter—who was Elaine's type; indeed she showed little interest in dating at all, though her elegant beauty gave her no lack of suitors. Finnian knew their parents desperately wanted them to marry each other someday and join the Day and Fulbright families together; they had been calling them boyfriend and girlfriend since they were toddlers, which had effectively cured them of trying to date each other for real.

"Who cares if he's handsome?" Finnian asked, though some small, easily ignored part of him whispered that it certainly wouldn't hurt. "As long as he's good at flying, he can look like a toad for all I care."

The Fulbright siblings burst into laughter. "Don't say that!" Elaine exclaimed. "He's your teammate, you want to look at a toad for the whole school year?"

Finnian scoffed. "Don't need to see his face if we're both flying."

The siblings laughed again. "Dude, you're such a jock!" said Cassander. "It's all you think about, this is exactly why you're still single!"

His pale face flushing, Finnian directed a warning hand at his friend, gathering shining threads of magic around his fingers. "Shut up before I cast a silencing spell on you!"

"And ruin my participation grades?" said Cassander, who was very proud of his perfect GPA. "Don't you dare, man! You wouldn't dare!"

Finnian's embarrassment dissolved into laughter, and the three went cheerfully into the new school year, caring little for the protests and conflicts brewing outside.

~ ~ ~

The flying team wasn't scheduled to meet today yet, but Finnian made his way to the flying grounds after school anyway, eager to get back into the groove. He had practiced over the summer, of course; but he found that flying at school, with the professional track and the better equipment, produced different results entirely.

The air was warm as he stepped outside, but the wind in his face carried the chilliness of fall. Finnian inhaled it deeply: the scent of earth and freshly-cut grass and adrenaline, the cool breeze that was practically begging him to kick off into the air and race it until he was dizzy. Even the sun in his eyes couldn't bother him as he headed off to the equipment room, ready to get out his broom and fly.

Ah, it felt good to be back.

Opening the door, he reached for his broom. Well, broom was more of a tradition-based term than an accurate one at this point; where mages had once used traditional broomsticks to fly, today's racing brooms were engineered and optimized to the pinnacle of perfection, made of aluminum instead of wood, shaped to minimize weight and air resistance while maximizing stability. Finnian had received his current one for his birthday in May, and he took great pride in its stats and cutting-edge quality.

He was just about to head off to the locker room and change into his racing clothes when something caught his eye. A movement in the air, a blur, a shadow; and before he knew it he had paused, turning back towards the racing grounds to watch.

The sky was blue. The air was clear, and far above him, a person darted through the skies. Speeding through the course, dodging the obstacles, the slim figure seemed to be riding on the wind itself, pressed close to the broomstick in a flawless, elegant form. The rider had their broom under perfect control, all but dancing through the air, completing the obstacle course with weightless grace while still radiating a fierce, burning ambition.

Finnian stood mesmerized, his own errand forgotten. The world came to a standstill, and even his breathing paused, his whole self, his entire being focused only on the solitary rider alone.

Then, finally, the rider landed, and time resumed again. Finnian inhaled the breath he had forgotten to take before. Now that he was no longer a blur in the air, he could finally make out the flyer's face; and a he it was, a boy his age that he had never seen before.

Elaine hadn't been lying about his looks, Finnian thought as he understood who this stranger was. He was about Finnian's height, perhaps a little shorter, his build light and lean and perfect for a competitive flyer. His black hair was messed up from the flight, but Finnian suspected it didn't need wind to be fluffy; it framed a fair-skinned face with strong cheekbones and dark, intelligent eyes whose expression he couldn't make sense of. All the same Finnian couldn't understand why Elaine had called him pretty instead of handsome; sure, at first glance he did have softer features than many boys their age, but there was something about his bony build, his defined jawline that clearly spelled out handsome to him.

Finnian bit back a smirk. Looks like I won't have to look at a toad, after all.

But before he could approach the new student or talk to him, his gaze fell on the timer.

Any and all positive emotions he had snapped out of existence like a candle that had been snuffed out.

This guy was good, all right.

Because unless the timer was lying, he had just casually beaten Finnian's speed record.