Virewood Academy
Emreta
The papers in front of me don't deserve the effort. The questions are too easy predictable, recycled, dull.
My pen moves anyway, neat and automatic, spilling words before my mind even bothers to think. Around me, the room hums with quiet panic—shallow breaths, rustling paper, squeaks of shoes on polished tile.
Someone's pen clatters to the floor. Mr. Edward pauses mid-step, eyes scanning the room. His presence is always a shadow, but today it feels heavier,
He passes by me, his eyes skimming over my desk cold, unreadable. I don't bother looking up. His presence is always a shadow in this room, but today, it feels heavier.
A breeze slips through the cracked window. It smells faintly of rain and pine from the garden outside, mixing with the sharp scent of ink and nervous sweat. The grounds of Virewood Academy are always meticulously groomed, even the hedges by the main gate trimmed to perfection. Too perfect.
I was sitting in my usual spot, near the back of the massive, tiered lecture hall.The air grew still, too still. It settled, heavy and cold.
A prickle runs down the back of my neck, sharp enough to make me stop breathing for a second.
I look up.
Golden eyes. Nothing else. His face is a blur like the world refuses to show it to me but those eyes cut clean through the hall, through me.
They shouldn't hold that much power, but they do. Focused. Relentless.
I hate that I can't look away.
No one looks at me that way. Or have this effect on me. I'm the one who decides who gets to be seen, who gets to matter. And yet, here I am, caught in the orbit of this stranger?
Something tightens in my chest. Once. Quick. Then again.
It takes me a second to realize it's my heart racing.
Seriously?
I force out a breath and look away, jaw tight. Why do I feel this? Why now? Something about him doesn't sit right
I don't care who he is, and I definitely don't care why my pulse thinks it's time to start performing.
Still… there's something about that feeling.
About the way my body reacted before my mind could stop it.
And that more than his damn eyes is what gets my attention.
"Emreta?"
Ria's soft whispers pulls me back.
I glance at her, face too bright, too warm for this dull room. She's already finished her paper, humming softly under her breath.
"What?"
"You spaced out," she says, smiling like she always does.
"I'm done," I reply flatly
She shrugs, still smiling. Ria never takes offense. I've tried to freeze her out a dozen times; she just keeps coming back, like sunlight slipping through shutters.
---
Virewood is a place defined by its imposing architecture, well defined gates that stood taller than reason and walls so high they seemed unclimbable.
Or so they thought. I smirked every time I walked past them.
I'm now walking down the hallway, the scent of pine, and something faintly metallic thick in the air.
I'm not in a rush. Ms. Felix has called me to her office, no doubt to scold me for one of the thousand things I've done to irritate her lately.
Skipping classes? Check.
Leaving when the lecture drags? Check.
Ignoring curfew? You bet.
I push the door open, already knowing what I'm walking into. Ms. Felix's office is exactly as it should be: neat, orderly, tense.
Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun, her robes as perfectly pressed as ever. Her glasses gleam, but her eyes? Cold. Calculating.
I closed the door and stayed standing.
"Well, Ms. Venõr," she started, her voice tight. "Despite the fact that it's finals, you're still acting as if the rules don't apply to you. You continue skipping class and disregarding expectations—this behavior is unacceptable, especially now."
I leaned against the doorframe, completely unbothered, my thoughts already drifting to that golden-eyed stranger from earlier.
Ms Felix leaned in "Why is it that you know the rules—curfew, no sneaking out after hours—and yet it seems you make it your life's mission to break every one of them? Detention doesn't even faze you."
I offered a lazy shrug "The rules are boring, the classes are boring, the detention is boring. I'm only here because my mom made me come."
I met her eyes directly, a smirk twitching at my lips.
"Oh, and I don't care about the finals. Not even a little bit."
She bristled. I registered her disappointment like background noise, nothing more. She kept her composure, I'll give her that. Impressive. Pointless, but impressive.
Ms. Felix thinks I'm a rebel. The truth is, I'm just bored.
The hall stretches ahead, empty but for the echo of my footsteps. Predictable. Safe. Too safe.
I walk back into the hall room, and the moment I do, the room goes quiet. Everyone's eyes shift to me. Predictable.
I make my way to my seat, but something's off. He's the first thing around here that didn't feel like a rerun. He was real. I can still sense him nearby.
The echo of those striking eyes flickered in my mind again—sharp, unwanted, and stubbornly interesting.
I close my eyes and exhale.
Was he also related to that whole "Ethereal" ruling, prophecy, whatever the Ivory lady—Dalia—dumped on me?
My internal monologue was abruptly swallowed by the noisy reality of the noontime rush.
By lunch, the cafeteria's a chaos of voices. Ria's already waving me over, a tray in each hand. She's sunshine in human form talking to everyone, laughing too loudly.
I took my usual window seat, iced coffee in hand. The cold sting was the only flavor I cared about.
Ria's still talking about some event or rumor or whatever. I half-listen, half-drift.
Ria doesn't seem to mind that I'm not really listening. She never does. She has this endless stream of energy, like she's made of light, and I can't seem to pull myself away from it.
My gaze drifted lazily to the window. Outside, the Virewood compound splayed out in all its dull glory. What did I really want? I couldn't fathom an answer. I was too lazy for this school, and any ruling seemed too pointless to bother with.