by K L Rymer
Holding my head high, I flip my hair back and walk across the courtyard, wondering who looks friendly enough to talk to. The students move away, and I shake my head. Seriously? So petty. We’re nineteen now, not twelve.
Though they’re probably much older...
Sweat drips down my temple as I gaze around, noticing the glares from everyone present.
I get it. I know humans suck, polluting the Earth and whatnot, but come on! This is just mean.
Even my high school wasn’t as bad as this.
A foot stretches out and trips me up, and I land on my face and bite my tongue. Blood fills my mouth and I spit, glaring up at the ass who’d had the nerve to trip me. Laughter breaks out across the courtyard, and I grind my teeth.
I don’t give two shits. They can laugh all they want. Instead, I peer at those shining leather shoes, and glare up at the smug bastard attached to them.
Matthew Humphrey the IV or whatever his name was again. Several girls surround him, giggling and whispering as they survey me up and down from head to toe, and I roll my eyes.
Looks like we have a Ladies’ Man here.
“Did you seriously just trip me? What are you, like... twelve?”
I don’t think I’ve been tripped since I was a freshman four years ago.
That thick mouth stretches with a smirk, and I would have found it sexy if it didn’t belong on the face of a jerk.
“Two hundred, actually. Ten years for every measly one of yours, human.”
Of course. These bastards have long lifespans. I guess that makes me the youngest student here.
I spring back up to my feet, showing off the fact that I do lunges, and face my aggressor now.
One femme fatale strategically flanks his right now, and I see it’s the same bleached blonde from before. Now that I’m up close... damn... she’s one good-looking bitch. Those icy blue eyes could tear holes into your flesh. She has the bone structure and lips of a supermodel, but better... like a goddess. I’ve never cared much for how I look, but today, I feel like a total troll. Her figure would put all those Victoria Secret girls to shame.
Same goes for Mr. Shiny Black Car. He has a face that looks as if it was chiseled by gods, plump, kissable lips, and thick brown hair. And with the way these assholes tower over me at six foot tall, I know they’re thinking it.
What a frumpy, plain, little creature...
All around I see beautiful faces, and for the first time since I arrived, I’m self-conscious.
“Just so you know, human, we don’t want you here. This school is for talented, special students. Not common muck like you,” Pretty Bitch sneers.
I glare into her icy blue eyes, and there goes my soul. Even her voice is uber-sexy, like sweetened honey that clogs your throat.
I release a wistful sigh. I never should have left Megan and Sophie... I should have just stayed and collected newts like a good, little zoology student.
I‘m no mage. And I’m no whatever the fuck Pretty Bitch is. I’m just... me.
No one.
The doors fling open, and every student bolts up like a meerkat.
My eyes fall on the middle-aged man on the threshold, teachers and professors all around him, and I get a strange sense of déjà vu.
Where have I seen that face before?
He wears a bright, cornflower blue suit covered in stars, and sports a silver-streaked beard. But most of all, he possesses a fun, whimsical vibe, one that makes me feel all childlike again, and I just want to cast spells with him. In fact, I’d even go as far as to say he was handsome, but somehow that seems inappropriate. He’s old enough to be my dad. Or maybe my great, great, great, great, great, great...
Ah, you get it.
“Students...” the silver-bearded man calls out, and all students stare in awe. Some even have their chins on the floor. His voice does seem to echo across the courtyard after all, like a tolling bell. Even Matthew draws a breath, and his bleached blonde girlfriend has her over-glossed lips hanging open.
I smile smugly, loving how this man even leaves them speechless. Somehow, I have a feeling he’s the one running the show here.
I glance up, and the headmaster has his eyes focused on me. A smile grows over his face, and I freeze, rooted to the spot. All students turn to me, and I see that green-eyed little monster in all of their glares. Matthew’s jaw ticks and I give him a smirk. I don’t know what they’re so envious of, but I’m going to make the most of it.
The headmaster continues. “Welcome all, and thank you for waiting so patiently. Now follow me into the grand hall. The ceremony awaits!”
Wow... he’s rather jovial. And what ceremony? A sorting ceremony perhaps?
The students pass me, clad in their gray, clean uniforms, and I wait until everyone else has gone inside before I follow.
Finally, I shuffle to the door, and that’s when I notice the skulking figure behind me. I turn and a shiver rattles my bones when I meet those blood red eyes.
Now that is one creepy dude. He has shoulder-length, coal black hair that hangs down his face like drapes, pale skin, and roguish features, and I avert my gaze lest those blazing orbs incinerate me.
I don’t want to know what he is.
Just as my feet hit the threshold of the door, my body zaps with that strange electricity again, and I suck in a breath.
Seriously, what is that?
My attention is drawn to the high ceiling and I pause, blinking in wonder. It’s covered with Renaissance artwork, and I swear the paintings of knights are sparring with each other, but it’s obviously a trick of the lighting... right?
Heck, it’s the legend of King Arthur. It shows different stages of his life from boy to king. In one he pulls the sword from the stone, and in another he sits at his round table with his knights. Ooh, there’s even a shot of Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere...
Oh, yeah. Right.
Poor Arthur...
I spot two large dragons in another piece—one red and one white—just like the school’s emblem, breathing fire at one another. Whereas the red dragon’s fire is orange, the white’s is blue, and it seems this painting is telling the story of a battle of some kind. One that happened long, long ago.
My head starts to spin the longer I stare at the ceiling, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m the only one left in the foyer.
Oops. Best get a move on...
I hurry towards a second pair of doors that lead to a grand chamber, and there a sharp-looking woman slams the door behind me, giving me a pointed look.
Well, that’s what I get for keeping her waiting.
I bow my head and situate myself against one of the far walls with several students. I stand beside a gothic chick, and when I get a better look at her, I gasp.
Pitch black eyes...
She smiles and moves her ebony hair aside so I can get a good look at her pointed ear, and the blood rushes to my face.
Holy cow.
The girl cackles, wrinkling her nose, and extends a hand. “Zahara. Nice to meet ya!”
I take her long, slender hand, trying to form words. “Um... B-Bryn. Pleasure to meet you, too.”
Zahara rotates my hand, examining the lines of my palm, and a shock runs up my arm.
“Hm...our hands are pretty much the same, though I have a longer lifeline.” She holds up her palm, and she’s right. It seems to run down to her wrist, disappearing beneath the pale skin.
She smiles that wrinkly-nosed smile again, and I gaze deep into her liquid black eyes. It’s like they’re filled with ink.
“I’ve never met a human up close before.”
I blink. “And... I’ve never met a... uh...”
“Fae. Unseelie. We’re not so popular either, so don’t worry. You’re not alone.”
I hold my head down, my mind going back to all the books I read as a child. The Unseelie were the dark fae, the bad guys, the opposites of the Seelie, otherwise known as the pure fae.
My eyes drift around the room,
trying to spot any Seelie students, but then the headmaster calls everyone to attention, and we all face the stage.
He stands at a lectern and beams pleasantly, and now the room falls into silence. He takes us all in, pride and joy shining in his big, guileless eyes. “Just look at you all... so eager and ready to start a new year of learning!”
I fail to keep myself from automatically rolling my eyes, but then I'm surprised to see that I'm the only one. He sounds so lame, but everyone gawps at him with nothing but respect and awe. He could even tell a bad dad joke right now, and they’d all laugh.
Wow... to have that kind of power where everyone kisses your ass. Even Matthew Humphrey the IV chuckles at the headmaster with a few other douchey-looking bastards, and he appears utterly smitten.
Maybe a little too smitten.
Aw, Matthew’s in love...
I think back to something Shankfoot said, about the Headmaster being someone famous.
The initial on my letter had been M.
My eyes widen, and then I regard the headmaster’s silver beard, starry blue suit, and overall, whimsical appearance.
Then there’s the mural of King Arthur to take into consideration. Of course, he had an advisor in all those years...
No... no way... Could he really be...?
“Let me start by introducing myself. I am Headmaster Myrddin Emrys, founder of this marvellous school.”
Zahara shakes her head in amusement, and I peek at her. “Ever so modest... As if he needs to tell us who he is.”
I laugh. “Yeah... you must enlighten me there...”
Her inky black eyes enlarge. “You’re not serious? Even you, a human, will have heard of him. What with all your countless TV shows, movies, books, DVDs...”
“I’m sorry, but Merthin Emris just doesn’t ring any bells...”
She deadpans me now, and it’s only then when I notice the black eyeliner accentuating her eyes. “He’s Merlin, idiot. Myrddin is just his Welsh name, the one he prefers.”
W-what...?
The room spins, and it takes everything in me not to pass out on the floor.
M was Merlin all along?! And here I was thinking he’d look like the version from the Disney movie or something.
Merlin—I mean—Myrddin goes on, and finally I peer upward, noting that shining halo at last. Now I know why the other students looked as if they’d seen daylight for the first time.
Here was a living legend. Merlin himself.
I’m definitely in a magical school now.
Chapter 5.
“As you’re all aware, every new year of students must undergo a ceremony, one that will sort you into one of three houses based on personal strength and characteristics.”
Oh. Here we go.
“The ceremony involves powerful magic, one that will look deep into your soul, see your hopes, dreams, and fears, and then assign you a house. Once finished, your blazers will change colour based on the house that you’re given, and voila!”
Shit. I hate ceremonies. Why can’t we just do this in private?
“Will you be Audacious as in brave, spirited and noble? Magnanimous as in gentle, just and worthy? Or what about Ingenious, intelligent, creative and gifted?”
All around students nod, seeming to know exactly which house they will be placed in already, but me...? I’m clueless. Honestly, there are times where I’ve been all three of those things, and others... not so much. A multifaceted creature at best, it’s hard to know, but I do hope I get in Audacious. There’s just something appealing about being brave, a fighter.
A warrior.
Merlin’s... I mean, Myrddin’s sunny demeanour changes next, and his glowing halo vanishes.
“However... there is a fourth house, one I pray that you will not fall victim to. House Mendacious... The deceitful, the cruel. The corrupt.”
Students murmur in disgust, and my eyes find Matthew, shaking his head in disapproval. I don’t know why he’s so vexed; he has Mendacious down to a tee. I do feel for the poor saps who will end up in that house though. Society has labeled you a bad guy. Nice.
Myrddin’s cheerful smile returns and he blinds us all with his glorious halo once more. “Though not to worry! With proper training and guidance at this academy, I assure you that we will rid you all of those nasty traits, making you upstanding citizens of our magical society! Now, let’s call the first student from Z to A...”
I raise a brow. Doesn’t he mean A to Z?
Zahara gives me a knowing smile. “He can be a bit backwards at times.”
“I can see...”
Shit. This just means Williams will be one of the first called up.
Myrddin clears his throat, and then a magical scroll appears in his hand. I flinch, catching the attention of several students.
Sorry, but that’s just not something you see every day.
The headmaster places a pair of smart glasses over his nose, and his cheeks push up at the corners of his eyes when he finds the first name. “Bryn Williams. Please step forward!”
I freeze and Zahara’s eyes fall on me. One by one, everyone follows her example. Matthew’s envious eyes return from across the Grand Hall, and I swallow hard, wishing the ground would tear open and gobble me whole. Why me? Is there seriously no one with a last name beginning with X, Y or Z?! Ridiculous!
“It’ll be fine. Show these students how a human does it,” Zahara says.
How do humans do it? By messing it up, probably. Of that much, then sure I’ll nail it.
Gulping a fresh mouthful of air, I step into the empty space in the center of the chamber while whispers echo all around me.
“She doesn’t even have a uniform.”
“What’s a human doing here, anyway? They smell...”
Well, she wouldn’t be wrong. Right now, I’m sweating like a pig.
Finally I come to a stop before Headmaster Myrddin, and his kind eyes fill me with such pride. And now I feel like I can do anything, even rule a country.
No wonder he inspired Arthur.
His eyes crinkle at the corners, and that boldness returns in my gut, spreading energy throughout my body.
I so know what house I’ll be sorted into.
“Bryn Williams...” he repeats, seeming to like the way my name sounds. “It’s been some centuries since we had a human attend this school.”
More mutterings and whispers, but I ignore them and smile at the man I’d only ever read about in stories.
He sighs and glances over my clothes, and that pride and glory vanishes. Now all I feel is shame.
I forgot. I’m still wearing my raincoat.
“It seems you haven’t been assigned a uniform yet.” He clicks his fingers and my coat vanishes, replaced by a gray blazer that’s a little too snug for my liking. But now I finally sport the Dancing Dragons’ Emblem over my right hand breast pocket.
I look up at Myrddin on the lectern.
“Oh, don’t worry. Your garment will be returned to you later, Miss Williams.”
Oh, good. I was worried for a moment.
“First things first. Once you are assigned your house, your blazer will change to the colour that most befits that house’s title. Will you be an Ingenious blue, Magnanimous yellow, or an Audacious red!”
Well, what about Mendacious? What’s their color?
Myrddin leaves the latter out and proceeds with his talk. “For the ceremony, all you are required to do is come up on stage and stand before this font. There you will shed tears and drop them into the waters, and a vision will play out like Charlie Chaplin in a moving picture!”
I nod, wondering if that was the last movie the headmaster watched.
“All right, seems simple enough,” I say. “Though I’m not sure about that whole crying thing. I’m tough as nails. I don’t cry.”
Headmaster Myrddin’s face falls next, and I swear a tear drips from his eye. “But... everyone cries, Miss Williams. Tears after all offer a glimpse into a person’s soul.”
“So just chop up some onions then, and I’ll be good to go.”
Students gasp, probably shocked by my boldness, but the headmaster throws back his head and laughs in response. “Ha, ha, ha. My you are a funny one, but no. Tears of irritation won’t work. It has to be tears of sorrow...”
Well, slap me and call me Sally. “Fair enough.”
Myrddin smiles and points to the set of stairs on our right. “Now come on up.”
I oblige and make my ascent up the steps, hoping I don’t trip, and somehow I make it up in one piece. Soon I find myself standing next to the most famous wizard in the world.
After Dumbledore that is.
Yeah, the Harry Potter references aren’t going anywhere.
Headmaster Myrddin places a hand on my shoulder and leads me to the font, and I meet my own blonde-haired, hazel-eyed reflection in the water. I look so pale, but I also look... different. A good different though. I’m not exactly a beauty, but today I’m looking bold as hell. Nowhere as good as Pretty Bitch though.
Well, if that doesn’t bring a tear to your eye.
I squeeze my eyes, but nothing. Nope. I couldn’t give two shits whether I won Miss Universe tomorrow.
Myrddin looks me carefully in the eyes, and it’s like he’s assessing my soul. “Now, Bryn, this may be painful... but I want you to think of your saddest memory.”
I chew my lip, peering deep into the recesses of my mind. “Well, my childhood dog, Chappy, died a few years ago. I cried an entire ocean.”
His eyes light up. “Ooh, a dog lover? Then I know the perfect tale.”
Oh, no... he’s going to tell me some depressing story about a dog, isn’t he?
The headmaster smiles and already I feel my heart breaking.
“This is the story of a dog named Gelert. Back in the thirteenth century, Welsh Prince Llewlyn of Beddgelert went hunting one day without his faithful hound.
Upon his return to his palace, the prince found his faithful hound’s mouth smeared with blood though Gelert, like any typical, loyal dog, thought his master would be proud.
Alarmed, the prince rushed forth in search of his baby son, only to find the infant’s cot empty, the sheets and floor covered with gore...”
