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My chest squeezes, but I try not to let it show.
We don’t turn in either direction, continuing straight toward the imposing white building. That must be where the office is.I hope they give me a damn map. This place is enormous!
“There are three houses within school grounds—Power, Knowledge, and Fallen. The house of Power is over there,” he says, pointing to where the angel statues line the path. “And, as I’m sure you can guess, the house of Knowledge is down the path to our right.”
My mind churns, trying desperately to memorize everything.
As if sensing my train of thought, Professor Castiel speaks up. “Don’t worry. You’ll receive a map along with your class schedule. And one can never truly be lost with the power of flight on their side, hmm?”
I smile, and my shoulder blades tense with the need to free my wings, but I keep them firmly locked inside. I’d like to meet a few students before I announce to the world just how much of an oddball I truly am.
As we approach the enormous set of white doors, a thought occurs to me. “What about the third house?”
“Ah, yes. The house of the Fallen is beyond the main hall and past the other campus buildings. You’ll find it’s not as easily accessible as the rest, and for that I apologize. I’ve been trying to get them to change it up, but you know how the purists can be.”
My eyes flick to his, and I almost stumble at his words.
“We’re not all elitists, you know. I do prefer my books over the company of others, and it’s not hard to guess why.” He winks, letting his wings retreat into his body before rushing forward to open the door.
“Thank you.” I’m completely in awe of this strange man who seems so different from the Pure teachers I’d met at my last school.
The silent feud between angels has been ongoing since before Mom and Dad were born. My now-estranged grandparents told me stories as a child that feel more like fairy tales than our history. The Pure against the Fallen. No one seems to care that our wing color is decided at birth. It’s completely random, not based on any oracle or prophecy. A Pure angel could be the cruelest being of all and still have snowy-white feathers while a Fallen angel could be a fucking saint and still get shunned by society.
Then there’s me: A complete and utter anomaly who doesn’t fit into any of the neat little boxes that society makes.
If most of these angels are like Professor Castiel, maybe my time here won’t be so bad after all.
Once inside, we follow signs for the office until we turn toward a large desk and Professor Castiel explains who I am. While he speaks to the man behind the desk, I try to stay present, but several pictures along the back wall catch my eye. The dates along the bottom of each photo tell which year they were taken, and a choir of angels takes flight in my belly. Regardless of wing color or status, every single photo depicts smiling students who seem genuinely happy.Will it be like this for me?
Hearing my name, I tear my gaze from the photos and sign a piece of paper, not entirely sure what it is I’m agreeing to, but I’d rather not explain why I wasn’t paying attention. With a loudthunk, the school receptionist drops a thick binder on the desk in front of me, along with a backpack filled to the brim.
“Why don’t you wait outside, I’ll just be a moment,” Professor Castiel says, pointing toward a different door than the one we entered.
“Of course, thank you both.” I pick up my things, excitement bubbling at the prospect of finding out what’s inside. As I step out the back door, my breath stalls. I hadn’t thought this campus could get any better, but it turns out I was wrong.
A tall building stands off in the distance, looking like the tower one would lock a princess inside of before her knight came to save her. Beyond it, there’s a large cliff that spans almost the entire right side of campus with a waterfall pouring from the top. A massive fountain sits on my left, bubbling water spewing from several points, and the sound of it relaxes me almost immediately. Angels lounge near the fountain, some with their wings out and others without, but all of them have smiles on their faces. I can’t stop the hope blossoming inside me.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Professor Castiel asks, taking it all in along with me.
“Beyond anything I could have imagined. I didn’t expect the school grounds to be so large.” I hold tight to the binder, barely feeling the weight of my new belongings, and haul my suitcase along behind us as we head toward a large grove of trees. Every place I look holds something interesting, even if it’s as plain as a cabin on the horizon or a crop of colorful flowers.
The professor is talking — something about the many buildings and activities the school runs — and I should listen, but as we approach the thick forest, two large stone carvings of black wings on either side of the path grab my attention. This must be the way to the Fallen house.My new home.
Something draws me toward the nearest statue, forcing me to reach out and touch it. Immediately, my skin tingles and a sinister sense of foreboding fills my veins.What the fuck?
“Come along, Hayliel. Just a little farther,” Professor Castiel calls from ahead of me, and I rush to catch up.
The path takes us through a forest, where birds chirp and leaves rustle in the soft breeze, yet the world seems darker beneath the thick canopy. Corpses of fallen trees are strewn through the undergrowth with brightly colored mushrooms growing around them. Some trunks have faces on them, eyes that watch as we get closer to the end of the path. I breathe in deep, letting the rich, earthy scents calm me a little.
A dark castle looms over the end of the path, and I can’t help but gasp. “Wow.” The only words that come to mind are gothic chic. Dina had described this to me when she first started, but I never actually believed she lived in a fucking castle. She’s going to freak when she finds out I’m finally here.
“Just wait until you see inside.” He peers down at his watch, a frown forming on his brow before he grabs a slip of paper from his pocket. “I almost forgot. Here is your room number. I’m afraid this is where I leave you, unless you’d like some assistance?”
He hands me the small piece of neatly folded paper, but I don’t open it. “No, it’s alright. I can make it from here. Thank you for everything, Professor.”
“I look forward to seeing you blossom at this school, Miss Hayliel. Should you need anything, you can find all faculty contacts in that binder there, but your house captain, Ezekiel, is one of the best. Good luck!” His wings burst free from his back, slipping through the slits made specifically for our kind, and he flies away.
Ezekiel.Something about his name sends a jolt of energy down my spine, one I try to shake off by reading my room number. 7-0-2.
