The Porcelain Throne

Custom, that unwritten law, By which the people keep even kings in awe. - Charles Davenport

   "Cyrus, come along now," the attendant said. Her voice was devoid of any personality, as if she were more of a machine, rather than a human being.
   Cyrus looked up from the window, before getting up from his perch to follow her. Cyrus was as of that day, thirteen years old, and already five feet, six inches tall. A head of messy chestnut hair adorned his face, and reached to his shoulders, showing very few tame characteristics. He had ghost-white skin, that was almost reflective as if he was glowing. However, the most interesting feature about him, was his eyes. One eye was a deep, intelligent blue, like the far depths of the ocean, while the other was a magnificent hazel, gleaming red from time to time, resembling a burning pit of fire. His eye condition had always startled people, but he thought little of it.
   The attendant guided him through a vast hallway, with many twists and turns that made Cyrus dizzy at the mere thought of trying to memorize. Before long, the attendant stopped in front of a fairly large door with the number 401 printed in golden numerals. Pausing slightly, she  looked back at him, giving him a moment.
   Cyrus stared back at her stubbornly, not backing down with a hard multicolored glare, she opened the door. The handle turned, one quarter, half, three quarters... before she pushed the door open.
   The perfectly oiled door made no sounds as it slid open with ease. A soft whisk of air passed his feet.
   "Mr. Noury, I've brought your new student," the attendant said bluntly. To Cyrus, it sounded almost as if she were telling a pet that it's meal had arrived. He began to note things off as he entered the classroom right behind the attendant. The front of the classroom had a considerably large smartboard installed right into the wall, replacing what usually would have been a chalkboard. to the left of it was a brown teachers' desk made of dark wood. In a swivel chair next to the desk, a plump man with soft brown hair and green eyes. He had a snout chin and fairly short neck, which was covered at it's base by a crisp shirt. Deep smile lines and dimples were visible on his face, showing a rather upbeat character.
   "Ah, Ms. Patterson, I was wondering when you would get here," a low, almost playful voice replied. "In fact, I accidentally let it slip two days ago, a student read the form you sent me and then boom! Everyone knew! It was as if someone had set off a bomb in the school building, well, god forbid that happens, but the news really spread like wildfire!"
   "Anyways, the entire class has been waiting, maybe even the entire school! It's not often when we get a fresh pair of feet to roam our halls," he carried on.
   Cyrus noted the vibrant light that danced in the man's eyes as he spoke. It was obvious that he was very successful, if not, at least satisfied with his occupation. Then again, why wouldn't he be successful? He was the health teacher at one of the best known schools in the nation.
   "Ah, yes, well this is Cyrus, Cyrus Nix," she moved aside so that Cyrus could step up to see the teacher.
   Cyrus's movements we noticeably stiff, yet fluid at the same time.
   The teacher's face flickered from joy to amusement for just a moment, before grasping the joyful smile once again. Cyrus knew he was thinking about his eyes. It was what everyone did. And at that moment, Cyrus was slightly grateful that it was the teacher who saw his eyes first and not his now classmates, since his head was turned to face the teacher and not the students.
   "Heterochromia iridum, huh?" Mr. Noury grinned. " First time I've ever seen someone with it. It's pretty rare, and not to consider, with such vivid colors."
   "Well, it wasn't genetically passed," Cyrus mumbled only loud enough for the other to hear. He was pretty impressed already with the fact that Mr. Noury knew the proper term for double colored eyes. Then again, he must have had a masters' degree or possibly even higher, considering that he was sitting in the desk he was in now.
  The teacher's eyes showed a great amount of sympathy.
  He knows... Cyrus thought.
  "Well, I'll be leaving then..." the cold attendant began to walk out, clearly seeing that everything was fine.
  "Yes, thank you Ms. Patterson," Mr. Noury said as he got up from his desk. The door closed with a click and suddenly, the air went stiff.
   Mr. Noury put a hand on Cyrus's back, indicating to Cyrus to face the class. When Cyrus turned, looks of mild shock rippled among his classmates. Whispering began almost immediately.
   Great, double eyes is making a comeback Cyrus thought. Most people he had met thought his eyes were very interesting, in fact, some remarked that they were quite beautiful. However there were always those who were scared or startled by his double eye color. And it always took at least a full 24 hours before they got used to seeing his eyes.
   "Class, this is Cyrus Nix, he will be a new addition to our school and to our class. I hope you will all get along," Mr. Noury gave the classic repeat of words that were used to introduce new students. "Cyrus, would you like to tell us where you came from, or perhaps anything particular you'd like to share with us?"
   Even though no one said anything, there was a silent message that barraged the class: your eyes.
   "Actually, I'm from Texas. Houston," Cyrus replied aloud.
   "Well that's hard to believe when you're as pale as a ghost!" the teacher replied comically.
   Cyrus nodded a little sheepishly. He was from Texas, but due to many different events, he had ended up almost sheet white.
   "I'm just messing with you, anyways, let's see," the teacher scanned the room with his eyes, passing by every cubic inch. "How about we sit you next to Jamie, Jamie, raise your hand."
   A hand in far upper right corner of the classroom rose up. It belonged to a thin Asian boy with round glasses. He seemed very fidgety, but attempted to keep his face calm.
   "I trust you don't have a problem with your eyesight?"
   "No, sir."
   As Cyrus made his way to the back of the room, he felt a plethora of eyes looking at him. Slightly irked by the situation, he tried to focus on the features of the Asian boy, named Jamie, as he approached his desk.
   Now that he was closer, Cyrus could make out small details of the boy. He had dark, almost black hair, cut neatly, yet still quite aloof in the front. He eyes were a very dark brown, and from a distance they seemed almost black, and his skin had a slight yellowish, olive hue.
   As Cyrus took his seat, he noticed that boy next to him visibly flinch at the sounds of the rattling next to him.
   "Okay, now that we're all settled, I want all of you to turn to page seventy in your workbooks. Cyrus, I'll get a workbook for you after I start the class.
_____________________________________________________________

   "Um, the answer to question three is rubbing alcohol, or at least that's what I got... Cyrus?"
   Cyrus snapped awake, nearly colliding his head into Jamie.
   "Woah, okay, you were sleeping... You do realize we're in the middle of class, right?" Jamie looked at him urgently, looking all around him to make sure no one else had noticed.
   Cyrus sat up and flexed his arms behind his back a little bit. "Yeah, I know," he murmured as he stifled a yawn.
   "Well?" Jamie asked, looking back at Cyrus.
   "What?"
   "If we don't finish before class is over, then we have to do it in the dorms, and I have band practice after-school," Jamie urged.
   "Okay, geez, well, it doesn't really matter to me," Cyrus muttered.
   "Well it does to me," Jamie sighed. "How did you even get into an advanced class like this anyways?"
   "Like this," Cyrus pushed his worksheet in Jamie's direction.
   "Huh?"
   "Just read it."
   Jamie hesitantly picked up the packet and shifted through it, his dark eyes slowly widening.
   "When did you even-" Cyrus cut Jamie off abruptly.
   "We got fifteen minutes to work independently before we got into pairs. Simple as that."
   Jamie rubbed his temples, trying to absorb what Cyrus had just said.
   "So you just finished a thirty question review in fifteen minutes."
   "Yup."
   There was a short silence.
   "You're crazy."
   "You're Asian."
   "Korean-American."
   "Still look like a Chink to me."
   Jamie frowned. "Isn't Cyrus the name of a Persian king?"
   "Cyrus the younger and Cyrus the older, and now Cyrus the crazy new kid."
   Jamie snorted. "More like Cyrus, the king of the porcelain throne," Jamie pointed his index finger to Cyrus's ghostly skin.
   "Pfft, behold me, I rule toilets," Cyrus outstretched his hands.
   "Whatever," Jamie smiled.
   "Well, I did finish first."
   "Be quiet."
   "Same to you, Chinky."
_____________________________________________________________

   "Shoot."
   "What?" Cyrus asked as he approached the shorter Korean.
   "It's raining," Jamie muttered unhappily.
   "So? We're under a roof."
   Jamie turned to Cyrus. "But the band hall and dorms are in separate buildings, and I forgot my umbrella in the dorms!"
   Cyrus face-palmed. "Okay, so you're getting angry that you're going to get wet?"
   Jamie opened one of the exit doors that was right in front of Cyrus. Thunder cackled to life like a witch standing over a cauldron, brewing evil under her wings. Drops of rain and wind hit Cyrus in the face and slightly dampened his uniform before Jamie closed the door.
   "See?"
   "It's just a little rain," Cyrus shrugged.
   "A little? A little? How can you call that a 'little'?" Jamie pouted.
   Cyrus dug into his navy messenger bag and hit Jamie in the head lightly with a small black umbrella before placing it into Jamie's hand.
   "You know, someone once said that 'Custom, that unwritten law, By which the people keep even kings in awe'."
   "Wait, what?"
   "Basically it means that a king in the old days was more entertained by their peers than themselves. If that's true, the king of the porcelain throne was certainly interested today," Cyrus smirked. He then turned and re-opened the door, stepping out into the storm.
   "Wait, Cyrus!" Jamie frantically pulled the door open and stood on the door frame, searching for the pale boy.
   But when he looked out, Cyrus Nix was no longer there.

Author's Note

If any of you didn't understand Jamie's joke: The porcelain throne = the toilet ^^
This chapter looks really boring , now that I look at it :I
Why do I fail so badly??? T^T

Anyways, critical criticism is well-appreciated ^^

Reviews

[SeihouThePandaHero]

AWESOME!!!!!!! I love how you were so descriptive!!!! And the joke was funny ^_^ I'll try to read the next chapter! It's awesome even though you think this chapter was boring :P ITS PURE AWESOMENESS!!!!!!!!!!