I'm sorry, but I have to write this while the music still inspires me. Read the first chapter, (yes, I'm doing two) then try and guess what song I'm listening to.
I bit my lip. You probably don't know this feeling, but when you hear all this bad stuff about your parents that you never knew, and then find out they're dead, you feel a hole mix of emotions at once. Anger, betrayal, fear, sympathy, and then sadness. It felt like when you have a pet that you raised since it was a baby then it just died out of nowhere. I felt something warm and wet fall down my cheek. I hadn't cried since I was four. I looked over at Marissa, she was crying too. But something else too, she was humming. The song sounded familiar. Then she started singing, her voice sounded like the sweetest honey, " Let's waste time, chasing ca-ars...." Professor Ambrose looked up suddenly, "How do you know that song?" "I don't know, I've known it since I was a baby." Marissa explained. "That was your mother's favorite song," Ambrose said solemnly. There was a long silence. I looked down at my feet while Marissa twirled her hair around her finger. Marissa's eyes got real wide all of a sudden, "Professor Drake...." She mumbled. Ambrose seemed to know what she was talking about. "Of course! He might be able to tell you something about your parents that I can't." I looked from Marissa to Ambrose and back to Marissa, "Who is Professor Drake?!?" I exclaimed, Marissa answered, "The Myth Professor, and our Uncle Cyrus."
"We'll meet him after classes tomorrow, after all, it's getting late." I said definitively. Marissa nodded in agreement. I took a tour of all the classes, which included my tutor, Malorn Ashthorn. And I have to admit, he was cute. He told me that to cast a spell, I had to throw the card on the ground, draw the symbol of the school of the spell with my wand, and whisper my words of power. Questing was finished easily, and Malorn even taught me a new spell for Death students only. Before I knew it, it was time to meet Marissa by Rainbow Bridge. We walked into the Myth school. It was decorated like a mustard squeeze bottle exploded all over the place. Cyrus looked up at us, an expression of sheer boredom painted upon his face. "What do you want?" he said drearily. "Aren't you glad to see us," Marissa paused "Uncle Cyrus." His eyes widened. "You have some explaining to do." I said pointedly.