4 Manifest Destiny

The history test booklet glared up at Lydia from her desktop. 'What a screw up'. she thought. 'I could have studied with Agatha and had Starbucks to boot.' Agatha was currently having the same test but was in a different room.

She wrote her name on the top and nervously flipped the pages, looking at the questions and assessing her complete lack of knowledge with the human chronicle.

This is a Disaster.

1) Define the term Manifest Destiny and give the origin for the noun Lore.

Lydia felt a wave of anxiety spread through her chest. She really can't fail now. 'But manifest what?' She tried to break the question down. 'Manifest means something like the obvious or the evident to see, right? And destiny is like having a great expedition or a goal you have to reach in the near future... right?' She thought but decided to skip it and come back later, a technique she remembered having the human pedagogue talk about for having tests like this.

2) Who originally owned California?

'You have got to be kidding me', Lydia thought as sweat beaded on her forehead. Someone definitely needed to turn up the air conditioner. Lydia felt an ominous force, like someone was watching her every move, as she ran her fingers through her hair and took several deep breaths.

She continued.

'Question three?' she could only skip so many before she'd be out of questions.

Lydia looked out the window to her left and watched the crisp leaves stir above the field. The cloudless blue sky normally brought her some peace, because back home the sky was grey filled with fog, and always smelled like death. But not today, she felt uneasy. This test and protecting Agat— 'Huh?' There she saw a man leaning against one of the slender palm trees. He wore some suspicious clothing— with a black coat, a grey hat and dark shades to hide most of his face. It was unusual to have a stranger lingering near the academy. But the way he just stood there, leaning against the tree and staring. If Lydia didn't know any better, she'd think he was looking right up her.

When she squinted her eyes, she saw the pitch black eyes of the stranger and his moving lips; mouthing the words that made Lydia catch her breath.

'Death'

Her heartbeat stuttered. He was here. She looked down at her test, then up at the human, Mr. Flet, as he paced the front of the room. She tried to breath, but found she could only inhale short breaths. The periphery of her vision grayed out. Lydia squirmed on her seat.

No one else noticed.

They were focused on their tests, oblivious to what's happening. Lydia turned back to the window once more.

The man—there just moments ago—was gone.

Heat and cold fought for body, as her chest tightened once again. But there was something else, too, a new emotion, something like anxiety but more potent... a panicky sensation of fearful anticipation. But anticipation for what?

'War'

Lydia was guardian, a warrior, a powerful being, so anticipating war; 'Craving' war was on her normal to-do list.

Lydia couldn't shake off the feeling of excitement and drama in her heart. Something was happening. And somehow she knew it wasn't the test, that it was the man, the feightful being that she used to fight back in the underworld. But did she imagine him?

Of course not, he was in fact very real and something wrong is about to happen.

But the first thing she thought was it was early, the coming of the enemy. With just a few years they had found them, it was giving her a headache, plus the test, so her headache intensified, as she gripped the desk and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Mr. Flet finally looked at her direction.

"You okay?" he mouthed from up front.

Lydia nodded and lifted her lips to form a smile for reassurance. She then looked back down to her test. Her hands were trembling. Why did she lie? Why not tell him she needed a break? A restroom pass? Anything! Lydia closed her eyes to steady her thoughts, her head was swirling. 'Focus!' She tapped her foot, trying to give herself something to think about other than that man or her seemingly endless doubts and anticipation that were now overpowering her body. 'Focus!'

"Ms. Scallion"—a hand touched her shoulder —"are you alright? "

All at once she was composed. The panic was gone. Lydia looked up to Mr. Flet standing beside her. "Yes, Mr. Flet, " she said, blinking a few times. "Everything is fine."

"I know my test inspires dread and apprehension, but you didn't look so good," he said. "I thought—"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just thinking about my next answer." she said while she watched Mr. Flet's eyes glance at her blank test sheet and then back to Lydia.

"You mean your first answer,"

"Ha," she nervously laughed. "Yeah, that one," She turned back to her test and waited for Mr. Flet to walk back to his desk. 'That was close,' she thought. But then wondered. 'What was close? I'm not doing anything. I thought—'

'Manifest Destiny is a future event that is sure to happen, a type of destiny that can be clearly seen and that cannot be changed and the noun Lore originated from the Middle English, from Old English lār; akin to Old High German lēra doctrine, Old English leornian to learn.' a familiar voice whispered in her ear, instinctively she flinched back but saw no one beside her.

'Who?'

No one looked back. All eyes were on their own test papers. Well, except for Willy Sean in the corner. He was staring at the classroom wall and moved his head like a bobble head doll. 'No,' Lydia thought, 'he wouldn't know the answer anyway'.

Someone had given her the answer. A voice that was familiar to her ears, and her eyes visibly widened when she realized something.

Lydia muttered under her breath and doodled something on the margin. The answer sure sounded like a good one. But it was it hers? She glanced up the clock. Five minutes have passed but it felt like hours had already gone by, and the only thing that she had written on the test paper was her name and the doodle on the side. She could practically feel Mr. Flet was burning holes on her head. She had to put something down. She took a deep breath then picked up her pen and started writing.

'Done.'

'One down. nineteen more to go.'

She read the second question again and drew a blank as before. But just a second passed she heard the familiar voice again, clearly male, spoke in her mind.

'Junipero Serra was a Majorcan Franciscan who founded the first Alta California Spanish missions. After King Carlos III ordered the Jesuits expelled from New Spain on February 3, 1768, Serra was named "Father Presidente". Serra founded San Diego de Alcalá in 1769.'

Lydia stared at her desk. What was going on here? Why was he here? She put her pen down and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. She glanced left and right if they heard the same thing. But no one seemed to be a least bit distracted. She could hear the rough tip-tap of their pens.

"This is just weird," she muttered to herself. Then Lydia again picked up her pen to write what she heard.

Lydia again doodled for a while then came the voice whispering the answer. She swore it was the voice of Ellen Williams, their honor student, but there was no way Ellen could whisper the answer to her, while Mr. Flet was at the front.

She filled the question three. In fact, Lydia wrote down all the answers that she heard for the next seventeen questions until the test was done. She flipped through her booklet and checked her work.

'Perfect.'

She grinned, while walking up to the front, she thought.

'Thanks for the help, Lanse.'