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The podium at the front of the assembly looked like something carved out of an ancient cathedral-dark oak, polished to a shine, intimidating as hell. Standing upon it were several students in the same uniform as mine, except theirs practically glowed: golden badges pinned neatly to their blazers. Behind them stood others with silver badges catching the morning light like they were showing off.
Even if you were dropped here blindfolded, you'd instantly know who the top students were. Their posture, the way everyone seemed to stare at them like mini-celebrities-it was obvious. Judging by their tie colors, I guessed they were third or fourth years.
Not that I cared.
I wasn't planning to be top anything.
And if my mother tried to pull strings with the Superintendent again-her "friend"-I'd call the cops. Not joking.
The man standing beside the Superintendent (unfortunately very familiar, thanks to his constant appearances at our house), was giving a speech. Something about "future leaders" and "academic excellence." It all blurred together. I've always hated speeches-too long, too optimistic, too loud.
Plus, I was standing on a very hard floor that felt like it was draining my lifespan. Meanwhile every other first-year around me looked like they had just won a scholarship to fairyland. I tried to understand what was so exciting about being trapped in a magic academy that smelled faintly of dust and ambition.
If this were my old high school, I'd pull out one of my manga volumes to pass time. But Mom had packed my bags this morning-meaning she removed them all like a criminal.
"You don't need these."
Yes, Mom. I do.
Thankfully, the speech crashed to an end, and Superintendent Michael Duke stepped forward.
"Freshmen of Mordsith Academy," he said warmly. "I am your Assistant Dean-though most simply call me Superintendent Duke. Now, I would like to formally introduce our Toppers and Future Scholars."
Cue the applause. I mean, everyone else's applause. Mine stayed in my pocket.
There were eight of them-three with gold badges, five with silver.
"Noir Michaelis, our 6A's honour student, topping the school."
I blinked.
Noir?
"Vicmond Dennis, 5A's honour student. Lilian Russell, 5A's honour student..."
He continued through the silver-badge group: Victoria Luwen, Mavis Fisher, Topaz Rice, Nice Gwen, Hope Will.
"All are fourth years," Duke finished proudly. "I trust you all will follow their example, even by your third year."
The crowd roared "YES!" like an army.
I didn't.
Why would I? I wasn't planning to stay long enough to achieve anything. My perfect plan: get kicked out → move to the next town → start forensic training → become a CSI → disappear peacefully.
Perfect ending.
Well... except for the Superintendent and his obsession with Mom. He'd probably insist on giving me a silver badge because I breathed well.
The Dean stepped up next.
"Mordsith Academy has three houses-Blackwood, Ravenclaw, and Silver Lily-each with its masters and prefects."
He paused, letting it sink in.
"I want you all to line up in five files. Do not be disorganized. We will begin assigning you to your houses."
The crowd immediately dissolved into chaos-students rushing to form neat lines but ending up creating weird wiggly shapes instead. People were pushing, apologizing, stepping back, stepping in.
I waited until nearly everyone had sorted themselves before rolling my heavy bags forward and picking the smallest line-the fifth. Smaller line meant shorter suffering.
As I joined, someone stepped into line beside me.
I turned slightly.
And almost blinked twice.
A guy-tall, broad-shouldered, dark brown hair that curled slightly at the nape, and the purest hazel eyes I'd ever seen. He was objectively beautiful, but in a very masculine kind of way. Like the type of guy who would be cast as the charming best friend in a teen drama.
He flashed a grin so bright I momentarily questioned if he was actually talking to me.
"Hey, pretty. How you doing?"
Of course.
The genetics.
My cursed soft features strike again.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn't. Barely.
"I'm not a girl, Hazelnut."
His smile froze.
Then he laughed awkwardly. "Wow-my bad. I'm Art Lauren. You are?"
"Priest White."
My voice was flat, but not hostile.
Neutral.
"Cool name," he said, nodding eagerly. "You know, I heard Blackwood and Silver Lily are the fun houses. Like-actually fun. I really want a house that's lively, not full of rules."
I hummed. "What's wrong with Ravenclaw?"
He made a face.
"Nahhhh. Too strict. I've written entrance exams here twice and I finally got in. No way I'm wasting this chance not having fun."
I blinked.
"So you're twenty-two?"
"Yup." He grinned again, proud. "Took a while, but I made it."
His eyes flicked to my bags.
"Why'd you pack so heavy?"
I looked away.
"It's nothing."
We didn't talk after that. The line crawled forward. Students were sorted-some receiving silver bands, some green, some blue. And finally...
My turn.
Superintendent Duke spotted me, and his eyes warmed with that overly familiar recognition I hated.
"Ah, Priest," he said gently.
I gave him a blank look. Professional blank.
He placed a band into my hand.
Black leather, intricately designed, with the name BLACKWOOD carved in crimson steel across it.
"Your dorm is Blackwood," he said, pointing left. "Go through that door."
I nodded, adjusted my bags, and walked toward the door beside a huge painting. I pushed it open, stepping into a dimly lit hallway.
The air was colder here.
Quieter too-like a place that held too many secrets.
At the end of the hallway, I stepped into an open courtyard. A dark stone fountain stood at the center, water trickling quietly.
At its base were engraved words:
WELCOME TO BLACKWOOD
The path ahead was tiled, lined with tall lanterns. On my left, shadowed woods stretched deep and ominous.
Nope.
I've watched enough horror movies for that.
I walked past the woods and reached a medium-sized building that looked like a cafeteria, then past it to a tall structure with a small wooden sign:
Library / Stationery
Good to know.
I kept going until I saw the biggest building of all-the dormitory.
Finally.
The first floor inside was loud. Loud like a party.
Okay... maybe Art was right. This house was lively.
I climbed to the second floor-instantly regretted it. It sounded like a full-on protest. People shouting, laughing, running. Someone threw a pillow that flew past my face.
"Um... excuse me," I asked a petite girl chatting with her friend. "I'm a fresher. Do you know where the fresher rooms are?"
She giggled.
"There aren't any fresher dorms. We're all mixed-three, two, or four per room."
I frowned.
"So how do I know my room?"
"Let me see your band."
I showed her.
Her eyes widened.
"Whoa-you're not a girl..."
(There it was again.)
"Boy, you're lucky. You're his roommate."
...His?
I didn't ask. I didn't want details. But she continued anyway.
"He hasn't had a roommate since first year."
Why?
Did he eat them?
Kill them?
Sacrifice them to the woods?
I didn't ask that either.
I said, flatly, "Where is the room?"
Her friend pointed.
"Keep going straight, turn left, take the stairs to the fourth floor, then all the way to the very last door."
I sighed.
"Thanks."
As I walked away, she called, "Don't forget to come downstairs for dinner!"
I pretended to hear her.
At the fourth floor, I made it to the last door at the end of a silent corridor. I tried the doorknob.
Locked.
Great.
I jiggled it.
Nothing.
The band slipped from my hand and clattered to the ground.
I picked it up, stepped back, ready to ram the door-just once, just to prove a point-
The moment my hand holding the band touched the wood, the door swung open.
I stumbled inside.
Huh.
The band was the key.
I stood up straight and properly looked around.
The room was... beautiful.
Spacious.
Organized to perfection.
Everything neat, clean, symmetrical-the exact opposite of me.
"Fantastic," I muttered. "If he has OCD, I'm dead."
I dragged my bags inside, shut the door, and dropped onto the nearest bed-definitely not mine, since I hadn't arranged anything. But I was exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually.
I let myself collapse fully.
The mattress swallowed me.
Today was...
A lot.
Before sleep pulled me under, I had one last thought:
Who the hell is my mysterious roommate?
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