As with all chapters labeled 'Extra' you don't have to read them to understand the main story. However, by reading them, you'll learn more about Aelurus and the Kingdoms of Eridan as well as showing some of your favorite characters that little bit of extra love.

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Margo'd stood outside Heidmarr-the White City's most prestigious Academium-knees trembling, eyes widening in awe of the rust-colored gates. The flesh around her upper lip stung as her whiskers needled their way toward the surface. She rubbed the tender flesh there, silently urging her whiskers to hurry up and grace her face already. Being without them made her antsy, and lacking such an integral part of the Cloudian aesthetic made her feel exposed.

She hoped she would have whiskers resembling her Da's - black and thick, like strips of nightsilk adorned his face. Her sister, Magdalinna, had been sand-blessed to have Da's whiskers. Margo hoped she would follow suit, though, she'd be okay if her whiskers looked like her Ma's - thin, delicate, and white, curled at the ends like snaking Venmas vine. Of course, if Margo was sand-blessed enough to have black and white whiskers, she wouldn't complain. She just wanted whiskers. Not having any was embarrassing.

"Liessie!"

A copper-skinned girl, with a head of sleek, black hair, bounded toward Margo, her radiance glowing brighter than three harvest moons.

Margo gulped, feeling her own radiance dull in comparison to her sister's, and waved.

"I didn't think you'd be here so early," Magda said cheerily. She reached up and curled a whisker around her finger. Jealousy reared up in Margo as she reached to poke at her own, whisker-less face.

Magda smiled and patted her sister's head. "They'll come in. Don't worry."

Margo nodded and Magda continued, ruffling her sister's thick curls. "Most first cycles don't have their whiskers anyway. You'll fit in."

Magda released her sister, delighting as she pulled on one of Margo's curls only to have it spring back into place. Magda frowned and her radiance grew dull. "I wish I had your hair. It's so lively. Mine's," she grabbed her smooth hair - it glimmered under the dusk lamps like river obsidian. "Mine's so boring." She sighed.

Wanting to change the subject, Magda began inspecting Margo, with the intensity of a Matron's gaze, and, pointed at Margo's sandals, smirking. "Ma let you out of the house like that?"

Margo felt her radiance lash outward with heated embarrassment. She had to concentrate all her energy on cooling herself off to make her radiance return to normal.

Cloudians were too dark-skinned to blush, but the golden shimmer - their radiance - that graced their skin flared and dulled with their changing emotions.

At times, Margo felt it made her kind special. At other times, especially times like this, Margo felt it was a curse. Young Cloudians had the hardest time controlling their radiance and they were the ones prone to crippling embarrassment.

Margo looked down at her muddy sandals, wishing she had chosen a longer skirt to hide their appearance. Of course, she could also not have visited the Twins, and certainly, she could have ignored the temptation to dip her feet into their crystalline waters but, to have such an adventurous spirit, meant giving in to those adventurous urges. She should have worn a longer skirt.

Magda tapped her own, pristine pair of sandals against the paved stone. "Couldn't resist visiting the Twins, eih? Even on your first day of formal school?"

Margo shook her head, curls bouncing around her face. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of envy roused awake in her sister's brown eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it might have come.

Margo nodded.

"The water there calms you," Magda said, her gaze wistful. "I'll tell you a secret, Liessie." A smile blossomed on Magda's rounded face. Margo inhaled. "Promise not to tell Ma and Da?"

Margo shook her head ecstatically. She hadn't known her sister to carry any secrets, and if Magda'd had any, she'd never revealed them to Margo.

Magda chuckled and looked both ways before continuing. "I visited the Twins before my first cycle too." Margo's eyes bulged. She had never thought her and her sister were much alike but, did Magda really enjoy the Twins? Could it be?

Magda continued. "I did," she said, shouldering her sister. "I thought I was clever. Wore a long skirt to cover up my sandals because I knew they'd get dirty." Margo gulped. She knew she should have worn a longer skirt. Magda's voice grew quiet, her radiance lashing out against her skin in rolling waves of blistering pinks.

Margo blinked to make certain of what she was seeing. The perfect Magdallina Browntail was blushing.

"I tripped over the hem of that sand's cursed dress. Face planted into the river bed. Covered head to toe in mud and muck." She grimaced as she made a motion with her hand of it falling flat. "The other kids in my cycle called me, Magda Mudface. Stupid nickname stuck for two whole cycles." Her radiance stopped pulsing and flickered back to a brightness Margo had come to associate with her older sister. "It wasn't until I blew them all away with my test scores that they stopped calling me that." Her chest swelled with pride.

Magda pulled her sister into an embrace. "They'll love you," she leaned in and kissed Margo's forehead. "And if they don't, they'll have me to deal with."

As soon as she released Margo her eyes fell to the stack of books Margo'd been carrying. Magda's face fell instantly, her brilliant smiled replaced with a scowl.

"Margolisse," Magda said. Margo winced and held the stack of books to her chest. Magda shook her head. "You know what Da said about taking that outside the house." She folded her arms across her chest. "You're lucky he even lets you keep it."

"But-"

Magda held out a hand.

Margo shook her head. "But Maggie, Gran gave me this book. She wanted-"

"Gran was old," Magda interjected. "She didn't know what she was doing when she returned to the Sands. You need to give that silly hobby up. Become a crafter like Da. Or a Charm Weaver like Ma. Do something respectable with your life."

Margo cast her gaze down, skimming the spine of her navy book. The Wizard Kellog's Whiskers and Tails: Beginner Spells for Those of the Cloude.

It was Margo's most treasured possession, and despite her Da's dislike at having his youngest own something that would further her
notions of becoming a Cloudian Wizardess, he let her keep it- under her bed and out of sight.

"We'll need magick," Margo said furrowing her brows. "Nocturnis is raising an army of undead."

Magda smacked her sister's arm. "Where'd you hear that?"

"I overheard Da."

Magda sighed. "You really should be a spy, the way you overhear things you shouldn't." Magda grabbed Margo's elbow and pulled her forward.

Margo stumbled as she was led through Heidmarr's gates, no one giving a stray glance to the Browntail sisters. People who knew Magda probably thought this behavior was normal for the fourth cycle and it was. Magda always pushed Margo forward, even when the younger mouse-girl desired a moment to stop and breathe.

Puff trees lined the inner courtyard, their rounded tops of black, brown and white, blurring together as Margo was rushed passed them, toward a group of unfamiliar, whisker-less faces.

"Maggie-"

Margo gaped. The imposing white stone building of Heidmarr Academium cut such a grand picture, she was left speechless. It looked old and regal, candlelight flickering in its hundreds of rounded windows, spires of gold-hewn stone releasing coils of violet smoke skyward. The air around the academy smelled of parchment and wet ink. Of the knowledge of generations studied and mastered.

Pictures and paintings had done the Academium a grave injustice.

It wasn't until Margo felt her arms grow lighter that she tore her gaze away from the building. Magda held the Wizard Kellog book under her arm.

"Maggie-" Margo felt her eyes began to swell with tears.

Magda shook her head. "You know the rule. You can keep the book as long as you don't take it outside. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell. I'll even put it back under your bed for you." She smiled. "Tell them you want to be an academic, Liessie." Magda's lips pulled into a thin line. Her rounded features grew sharp, stern. "Don't embarrass the family."

Margo nodded and Magda sauntered away, back through the gate. Margo no longer felt that dizzying excitement that had made her pause earlier. She wanted to go home and hide underneath her bed with her book. If her family didn't want her to be a Wizardess than maybe they didn't really want her either. They could always return her to Matron Corna at the orphanage. Cycles old, the woman could probably use the help of an older girl to keep the younger kids in line.

A tear ran down Margo's cheek. "Sands," she spat, flicking the tear away. She hadn't wanted to cry.

"Excuse me," a timid voice said. Margo whirled around and glared. The boy stumbled back in shock, black hair falling in front of his eyes.

Margo sighed and outstretched her hand. "Sorry."

The boy was the skinniest boy she'd ever seen. Like a twig. Was he really her age? She bent forward, squinting. No whiskers. Must be first cycle.

Hesitantly, the boy took her hand, his radiance washing over him in violent reds.

"I'm Hestor Sandsor."

Margo stared at the caramel-skinned boy. Sandsor? How unfortunate to have a cursed name.

Margo shuffled her feet. "I'm Margoliesse Browntail."

The boy's eyes went a shocking blue. "Browntail? As in Claus Browntail?"

Margo nodded.

"It's n-nice to meet you," he stammered, his embarrassed radiance casting a haze over his small form. He refused to make eye contact with Margo, and instead, focused on pulling out a loose strand of silk around his cuffed sleeve.

"Hey, you guys first cycles too?"

A girl with skin the color of the Red Sands strode over to them, framed on both sides with other dark-skinned whisker-less first cycles. "I'm Amara," she said, beaming. Her radiance poured off her skin like steam, gold and gleaming.

Unlike Margo, she was happy to be there.

"I'm Margo and this here is Hes," she nodded at the boy who was in the middle of straightening out his shirt collar. He blanched at Margo calling him Hes and his radiance immediately flared. The boy was like the sun with how brightly he shone whenever he was embarrassed. Margo chuckled.

Amara waved and turned toward the three that had followed her over. "This here's Sani," she pointed to a tall black-haired girl who wore a scowl and ruby sandals. "Grahnar and Lohan there are brothers and my neighbors." Both boys were colored like sandstone, with a rough, weathered texture to match. They had cropped brown hair slicked back with pungent oil, their radiance exuding an orangish tinge. Margo smiled at them and waved.

"So what are you hoping to study?" Amara looked at Margo's stack of books and beamed. "Academics?"

Margo shook her head.

"Oh." Amara's smile disappeared. She turned her attention to her skirt, pulling at the layers of navy fringe. "I'm going for Academics."

Grahnar snorted. "Of course you are."

Amara jutted her chin and folded her arms across her chest. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a girl. Most girls go for Academics."

Amara rolled her eyes and flicked a piece of stone across the courtyard. "She's not," she said, pointing at Margo. "Just said so."

Grahnar shrugged. "Charms then. Everyone knows Academics and Charm Weaving are the feminine studies. Lohan and I are going to become spies."

Amara snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you need smarts to be a spy?"

Grahnar leaned forward. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Mars."

Amara dimmed. "I told you," she said, gritting her teeth, "don't call me that." She poked Grahnar in the chest. He laughed.

"So, is Grahnar right? You're going to be a Charm Weaver?" Sani spoke, her question directed at Margo.

Margo stiffened. She didn't know what to say. Would the girl get offended if she told her the truth? That Charm Weaving wasn't a learned skill; that it was the selling of a promise? Most Charm Weavers were glorified salesmen, or so that's what Gran had said. Of course, Gran- Master Augmentor - had hated all the various Weaving disciplines.

Amara jabbed Grahnar in the gut, her slender finger doing about as much damage as it would poking a gods's tree, before turning toward Margo. "Don't worry. Sani's only asking because she wants to be a Weaver. Comes from a long line of famous ones."

"Shut it," Sani hissed. Amara did and the group's attention flitted back to Margo again.

Margo clutched her top, twisting the braided fabric between sweaty fingertips, wondering what in the realms she should say.

Just tell them you want to be an academic, Magda had said.

Don't embarrass the family.

Margo swallowed and breathed in deep before saying, in a clear, steady voice, the truth. "I want to be a Wizardess. I want to study alongside the great Wizard Kellog, learn at his school. I want to know the magicks of the realms and harness the powers of the elements. I want to protect the Cloude in my own way." She exhaled and felt her radiance double in size. It was probably crimson now, judging by her embarrassment.

The others stared at her wide-eyed and motionless, momentarily stunned and unable to blink.

Margo gulped, her heart beating like a drum in her chest, as she waited for their reactions. Would they call her stupid? Would they chide her like Magda? Or would they accept her? They seemed nice enough.

One by one, the little group of first cycles burst into laughter. Margo shrunk back.

Magda was right; Magda was always right.

Should have told them I wanted to be an academic, Margo thought.

"What's wrong with wanting to be a wizard?" Hestor stood in the back of the group, hands nervously wrapping and unwrapping around the hem of his shirt. He looked only at Margo as he continued, "What's so wrong with wanting to do what you want?"

Grahnar stopped laughing. "You can't be serious. Magick is for the soft-minded. No respectable Cloudian would pursue something so frivolous."

"Only an idiot would want to be a wizard," Amara added, her soft, round eyes narrowing into accusatory daggers, hard-trained on Margo. "Especially one like Kellog. As if a hemma could squeeze any magick out of that dead realm."

Margo thumped her foot in protest. "He can! There's documented proof of the Wizard Kellog's magick at-"

Sani waved a hand dismissively at Margo, nose wrinkled in disgust."I don't want to be in the same cycle as some hemma-loving ratta."

Ratta. The word lashed at Margo's heart like the waves of an angry sea. She felt the onset of tears.

"You'll disgrace our entire cycle," Sani said, an air of finality in her voice. She turned, holding her head up high as she walked back toward Heidmarr.

Amara nodded her agreement."Do your family a service," she called as she too, turned to leave. "and go above ground. Someone like you is better off letting an Aelurian bite your head."

"You're an embarrassment to the Cloude," Grahnar said, and with that, he and his brother, stalked away, backlight by dusk light and artificial moonlight, disappearing behind Heidmarr's great metal doors.

Margo sunk to the ground, tears staining her cheeks. "I should have listened to Magda."

A bell cut through the din of the courtyard, signaling the start of class. Clusters of Cloudian boys and girls, all with varying whisker lengths, scurried inside, unable to hide their excitement at the prospect of another cycle spent learning.

Margo wished she could be like them, but she couldn't will herself to be excited anymore. She felt small, and her radiance mimicked that feeling, growing dim and tiny. It could very well extinguish altogether. What happened when a Cloudian lost their radiance? Could they ever gain it back?

Just as her tears began to fall faster, Margo felt a hand on her shoulder. Hestor stared at her with his calming blue eyes, smiling and offering his hand.

She looked at him a moment before deciding to say, "You didn't laugh." She smacked the hand away, feeling as though Hestor hadn't laughed at her then because he was waiting for the right moment. Perhaps that moment was now, when Margo felt her worst. "If you're going to laugh at me just do it," she snapped.

Hestor shook his head, smoothed his shirt wrinkles and plopped on the ground beside her. "There's nothing for me to laugh at. You have a nice dream," he said. "I hope you do become a wizard."

"Wizardess," Margo said.

Hestor nodded. "A wizardess," he said. "How wonderful." He cocked his head and gazed upward, watching as a flock of stars were obstructed by a mountain of cloud. "I want to fly," he whispered. Then, he chuckled. "I'm terrified of heights, like most of us are, but someday, I want to fly." He looked at her sheepishly. "Is that weird?"

Margo laughed and shook her head. "Not any weirder than wanting to be a wizardess." Hestor smiled, his radiance mesmerizing.

Margo got a fleeting sensation that if she could, she would watch this boy's radiance fluctuate for all her life cycles. Her own radiance returned and blanketed her skin in its warmth.

Hestor leaned back and craned his head toward the rocky ceiling. He peered at it as though he could see surface, the true sky. He made a quick motion with his arm, striking upward and closing his palm around air. Margo stared at him, bemused. He grinned, opened his palm, and showed her it was empty. "The ground's pretty overrated," he said. "Someday, I'm going to fly, and when I do, I'm going to pluck a star from the sky. I promised Henna."

Margo said,"I think I want a star too," and reached up. She clasped her hand around the air, pretending it was a star. It would have to do, for now, but someday, when Hestor earned his wings, and she'd become the greatest wizardess the Cloude had ever seen, she would have a star too, plucked from the true sky.