Morgana Academy

Overcast skies greeted me this morning, a dull, bruised canvas above. I felt as though Mother Nature understood how I felt, the heavy gray mirroring the apprehension churning within me. I knew it wasn't me doing it, though, because my new ring had truly worked wonders, and I now had my powers somewhat under control. When I had shown Gran my ring, she had gotten all teared up, her eyes glistening, before explaining that it was something that was passed down in our family, generation to generation, and she had given it to Mom on her seventeenth birthday. It was rumored to have belonged to Morgana herself, the winged snake, with its ruby eyes, her own powerful symbol.

The story, Gran explained in a hushed, reverent tone, was that after Morgana had her first child, a cherished daughter, she was called away to help in a desperate battle against dark warlocks. These warlocks sought to gain power over the Eternal Flame, a mythical source of immense energy which, if possessed by darkness, could mean the end of mankind as they knew it. Before leaving her beloved husband with their tiny baby, Morgana, in her boundless wisdom and power, created the serpent. She imbued it with her protective magic, giving it the name Wyvern, to guard her family and her home. Although she was ultimately successful in the perilous battle, on returning home, her heart was shattered to find her husband dead, brutally slaughtered by the warlocks whose lifeless bodies were littered around her once-sanctuary. The Wyvern, true to its purpose, had done its job of protecting the home, but her husband, not fully trusting the mythical creature to be successful, had tragically attempted to protect his daughter himself, leading to his demise. Thinking her entire family dead, Morgana broke down, her cries of anguish so profound they could be heard echoing across the entire valley, a mournful lament. As she wept for her lost family, she heard a baby’s tiny gurgle, a soft, impossible sound softly rising above her wails. Turns out the Wyvern, in its infinite wisdom, had placed the baby within its protective folds, concealing her from the attackers as well as the harsh elements, ensuring her survival. That was the last time anyone ever saw Morgana. She took her daughter, as well as the Wyvern, and were never seen again, vanishing into legend, their fates intertwined with the powerful protective creature.

I looked down at the large ruby gem of the ring as it glinted in the overcast light, a flicker of hope and comfort in my heart. I wished, with a silent intensity, that the Wyvern could be here, not just as a symbol, but as a tangible guardian to watch over me at my new school. Just then, the car slowed to a stop, pulling me from my thoughts, and I looked out at the enormous building that loomed before my eyes.

Morgana Academy.

Never had I ever seen a more foreboding building in my life. Before we could even get onto campus grounds, we had to pass through a wide, imposing gate, its wrought iron bars intricately twisted. The adjoining wall that no doubt surrounded the entire expanse of the sprawling property was at least ten feet high, and that's just me assuming ten feet is "super up there," because this wall sure was. It stretched endlessly, a formidable barrier. We came to a stop in front of the Administration Building, its stone facade weathered by centuries. The place looked like something straight out of the 1800s, with its intricate brick and stone work, the tall, slender double-hung windows staring out like ancient eyes. It even boasted two towering turrets on either side that reached its way into the sky, giving it an almost castle-like appearance. There was a sort of dark, gothic feel to it, a sense of ancient history and power, but not altogether creepy, which was good at least.

Gran, ever efficient, ushered us out of the car, and I was able to get a better, more comprehensive look at my surroundings. I had, of course, read up on the school when I learned we'd be going here, consuming every piece of information I could find. So, I knew that somewhere on this sprawling campus, there was a vast library with every book we could possibly need while here, and then some, a veritable treasure trove of knowledge. There was also an infirmary, staffed with a resident doctor and two dedicated nurses, ensuring the well-being of the students. Four huge dormitory buildings provided housing for the diverse student body, and we couldn't forget the cafeteria. Actually, there were more than one of those: the main one, which was an entire, massive building itself, fully stocked and ran from 6 AM to 9 PM, offering a wide array of meals; and then there were the mini-cafeterias located in each dorm. Those were open 24/7, but only had cold drinks and snacks, some healthy and some not. It was also self-service, relying on the honor system.

I saw Gran making her way purposefully up the wide, stone stairs of the Admin building, and I pulled Farrah along, following dutifully. Inside, the Admin building was surprisingly, strikingly more modernized than you would think, given the archaic exterior. The color scheme was all neutral, a palette of grays, whites, and muted blues, suggesting a practical, no-nonsense approach. You could tell it was put together by a guy, perhaps even the Headmaster himself.

The woman behind the desk, her expression stoic, took a deliberate moment before she acknowledged Gran, choosing instead to complete the forms she was signing and stamping, her pen scratching loudly in the quiet space. To Gran's credit, she didn't seem upset by this deliberate delay; she simply waited patiently, her hands clasped, a picture of serene authority. The woman, identified as Gilda Simmons by the nameplate perched on her desk, finally looked up, and did a noticeable double-take when she realized who was standing before her. Her composure immediately cracked.

"Mrs. St'Clair," Gilda stammered, her voice a rapid, almost breathless rush, "I didn't know it was you. So sorry to keep you waiting, ma'am." She rattled off the apology, not once making direct eye contact, her gaze darting nervously around the room. It seemed Gran was indeed greatly feared around these parts, her reputation preceding her.

"Nonsense," Gran waved off the apology, a dismissive flick of her wrist. "I wasn't waiting very long, and you were clearly busy." Her voice was calm, almost soothing, yet carried an undeniable weight. "I've brought my granddaughters to get their room assignments, as well as their class schedule and the like."

"Oh, yes," Gilda replied, scrambling to pull up information on her screen. "Headmaster Cree asked me to get him when you arrived. He'd like to personally escort your girls to their room. Along with you, of course, to ensure it meets your approval." It seemed Echo hadn't passed the message on to his Chief, or perhaps the Chief had chosen to ignore it.

"Oh posh," Gran said, a slight, almost imperceptible scoff in her voice. "Whatever the accommodation is, it will be fine. Room number and keys, please." Gran held her hand out expectantly, her expression unyielding. Gilda seemed to freeze in her spot, fear clearly evidenced in her wide, panicked eyes.

It was a tough spot to be in, I supposed: defy your employer, the powerful Headmaster, or defy the most well-known, and apparently most feared, witch of your time, the head of the supernatural Council herself. Decisions, decisions.

"Tilly, do you have to intimidate my staff every time you visit?" A deep, resonant baritone filled the air, and my eyes immediately followed the sound to find the speaker.

I could instantly tell he was a wolf by the healthy, hazel color of his skin, a subtle golden hue that hinted at his power. I was guessing he was Headmaster Cree. He was a tall, imposing man, with a strong jawline and piercing, intelligent eyes that held a hint of amusement. "Are you seeing this Adonis, Gen? Oh my," Farrah whispered in my ear, her voice practically vibrating with excitement.

Honestly, I didn't see Adonis when I looked at him. I mean, sure, he was good-looking, a commanding presence, but he was definitely no Echo. I tried to push the image of Echo's bronzed skin and mesmerizing chocolate eyes out of my mind as Gran and the Headmaster walked over to us, their conversation carrying easily across the room.

"—but I wanted to be the one to greet you girls personally. Is that really such a bad thing?" Headmaster Cree asked, his voice a charming rumble.

"It is when it's totally unnecessary, Jacob," Gran retorted, her tone dry but affectionate. They stopped directly in front of us. "These are my girls. Farrah and Genesis. Girls, this is Headmaster Cree."

He first shook Farrah's hand, his grip firm and warm, and then took mine in his own. His eyes twinkled as he smiled warmly at Farrah, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, before meeting my own. When he looked at me, his grip on my hand tightened a fraction, a subtle, almost imperceptible squeeze, and a strange, unreadable look crossed his face. But it was gone before I could properly place it, replaced by a polite, professional smile.

"It's good to have you girls with us for the next few years," he said, his voice welcoming. "If you'll follow me, I'll give you a brief tour before I show you your sleeping quarters." Farrah's eyes were practically glued to him, and all she could do was nod, completely captivated.

This place was truly amazing. Everything about it. We started off with a tour of the library, of course, since that's where they would presumably want us to spend most of our time. It was a huge stone building, majestically shaped like a dome with a steepled top, its ancient architecture hinting at centuries of accumulated wisdom.

"We have every book ever written on the different aspects of magic, as well as the different supernatural species," Headmaster Cree explained, his voice echoing slightly in the grand space. "There's also the advanced section for seniors; there you will find the more advanced spells, incantations, and potions, should you prove yourselves worthy of the knowledge."

We then saw the immense gymnasium, the sprawling outdoor training grounds, and the sparkling Olympic-sized pool. The cafeteria lived up to expectation, a vast, bustling space filled with tantalizing aromas, and I had a sneaky suspicion Farrah would be spending a lot more time there than at the library. I couldn't help but notice the stares other students were giving us as we passed through the campus. Some were friendly, curious glances, but some were distinctly unfriendly, bordering on hostile. It wasn't hard to tell that this personal Headmaster tour was something only we were receiving, setting us apart.

"In recent years," I tuned back in to the Headmaster's speech as we walked towards the dormitories, "the wolves, hybrids, and vampires were all housed separately, in their respective dorms. But this year, I'm doing things a bit differently."

"How differently, Jacob? And why did you decide that?" Gran enquired, her sharp eyes scanning the buildings, trying to spot what he had changed, what new arrangements he had put in place.

"Well, Tilly," he replied, a confident smile on his face, "as time goes by, the quantity of purebloods are becoming less and less. Hybrids are what make up the numbers right now, a growing population. It made no sense to have two or three purebloods in a giant dorm by themselves, creating segregation and inefficiencies. So, I've integrated everyone, regardless of species or lineage, and that has allowed for an even larger number of student intake, fostering a more unified community." He explained confidently, a visionary glint in his eyes.

"But don't wolves prefer to be among their own kind?" I couldn't help but butt in, the question springing from my knowledge of Lycan lore. "Will the pure-blood wolves really be okay around so many other species, particularly vampires?"

Headmaster Cree turned to me slowly, as if he'd completely forgotten I was even there. Which was something I had noticed throughout the tour: he'd point things out to Farrah, engage her in conversation, but completely ignore me, as if I were invisible. His eyes slid over me without truly meeting mine.

"As it turns out, pure-blood wolves are few and far between," he stated, still not making eye contact with me. "We haven't had one in the past three years, besides me, that is. This year, we only have one, and I ran it by him, and he was fine with it." Still no eye contact, his gaze sweeping over my shoulder. What the hell did I do to that guy? I wondered, a sting of confusion and annoyance.

"Here we are," he announced, stopping abruptly in front of a particularly grand building. "Freshman dorm, as the kids say, but it's really called Merlin's Coven. This is where all freshmen would be housed, and it's also co-ed." At that, Gran spun to face him head-on, her expression one of utter disbelief.

"Excuse me? Co-ed?" she demanded, her voice sharp with incredulity, her previous calmness shattered.

To my disbelief, Headmaster Cree just chuckled, as if genuinely amused by her reaction. "Yes, Tilly. I trust my students to follow the guidelines. Besides, each floor has monitors to keep an eye on fraternizing, but I'm counting on the maturity of the student body to adhere to the rules. Which do have consequences, by the way," he added, a subtle warning in his tone, but his eyes still held a twinkle of amusement.

We had been meandering up what felt like a forever staircase, its steps wide and grand, but came to a stop at the very top. While the floors before had long, echoing corridors with multiple doors on either side, this floor had only three. Ours was a huge double door made of dark, rich wood, while the other two were single doors, equally solid. Headmaster Cree passed a set of antique-looking keys to Farrah and motioned for her to open the door, a deferential gesture. For some reason, I felt a strange twinge of jealousy at the attention he was giving her and not me, a feeling I quickly shoved to the back of my mind.

I pushed the thought away and focused on the now. Farrah, her hands trembling slightly with excitement, pushed the doors open, revealing what would be our living quarters for the next four years.