Page 3 of Darkened Wings
“Point taken. And she’s here. What does she want?” Her tone wasn’t completely off-putting, but it wasn’t welcoming.
A pause hung in the air before the assistant spoke. “She is claiming the right to legacy.”
If the headmistress gasped, I didn’t hear it. I expected it, but it never came. “She just walked in the front door?” Maybe the assistant nodded or something because I heard no response. “I’m calling the council.”
“But she’s damaged. She doesn’t belong here. Make her leave. Please.”
Jeez, I was damaged, broken, faulty in ways that were shameful, but I wasn’t a serial killer. There was no reason to be afraid of me. I was virtually harmless in my affliction. And I wanted the education any of my kind received. My parents had given me some training, and I could do all the more human things like read and do mathematics, but I wanted to be all I could be as a raven. And as such…go to school here with my kind. Surely everyone here wasn’t 100 percent perfect?
“And we will treat her as such. She will receive no special treatment and maybe, if we’re lucky, she will soon realize she doesn’t belong here. Now, let me make my call, Clara. We don’t have time for this.”
My parents were pretty tight-lipped about this academy and what they actually learned here, probably because they never intended me to attend. There was the reason everyone knew about and then the secret reasons they had only shared with me. Reasons that went beyond the surface view of me and my brokenness.
Even if I weren’t broken, they would not have sent me here, even for a summer tutoring. At least, that’s what they said.
I put the map aside and tapped my toes on the marble. Behind the desk, beyond the wall that partitioned this area from the rest of the school, according to the map, echoed the bustling of students; laughter and chatter filled in the gaps. Had I come after the start of the semester? The academy’s yearly schedule wasn’t exactly searchable online, but this was the end of summer in the same week that other schools started.
Still, late or not, didn’t change the fact that I was due a spot at this place.
The assistant came back to her desk and glared at me. “The headmistress will be with you shortly.” She gave me a smile, the kind you reserve for strangers who just hit you in the back of the ankles with their shopping cart.
“Thank you.”
While I waited, I tried to focus on the things I could see. It was a coping mechanism my mom had taught me when I became aggravated over my own shortcomings as a child. I would never be like the other ravens, and my parents never sugar-coated that fact, not even to appease a child melting down when her wings wouldn’t spread.
The smell in the air was a mix of cleaning solution, probably for these mirror-like floors, and the wilted rose-petal fragrance the assistant had oversprayed that morning. I saw dark-wood walls and sconces and a chandelier making the hue of this room a welcoming farce. I touched the other chair’s seat, feeling the smooth burgundy leather along with the wood it was so well crafted with.
“Good morning, Gwendoline.”
I stood as the headmistress emerged from her office. Her hair was up in a French twist, and her dark-green shirt was perfectly tucked into a black pencil skirt.
“Gwen, please. Call me Gwen.”
She gave me an emotionless smile. “Gwen. I see. The council and I have made a decision. You may register for classes. Clara will get you everything you need and set you up with a dorm room.” She took a long breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just know that the only reason you are here is because of who your parents were. The only reason. You will be treated as any other student.”
I nodded and demanded that the tears forming in my eyes not spill out. “Thank you.”
The headmistress’ pleasant smile faded, replaced by pity. I knew that expression well. “You look just like her.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Your mother, of course. Martina was always such a…no matter. Good luck, Gwen.”
The headmistress sped-walked back to her office while Clara, in a huff, got some paperwork together and demanded I fill it all out while she tried to hunt down something to fit me. I was a size zero on a PMS day so usually, I was an easy fit, but I think Clara didn’t want to hunt anything down for me, except a way out of here.
Chapter Three
Clara bustled around handing me more and more sheaves of paper, pointing out where I missed filling in lines and tsking at what I did write. I wasn’t sure what she expected of me, but N/A or none was the only possible answer to home address. Mine was gone. The landlord wouldn’t have rented to me, even if I’d had the credit rating he’d expect from a potential tenant. Also, I had been underage, and if I didn’t want to end up in foster care, I’d had to keep on the move.
I’d known kids in school who were in the system, and their lives were not great. I supposed there were other kids who did better, but since I didn’t know any of those, only the ones who’d suffered.
My best friend, in fact, had been one of those the system sucked in at the tender age of twelve and never again living anywhere more than a few months at a time. The stories she told me were enough to make me swear I’d never allow myself to be in that situation.
But surviving as a teenager without any kind of support from the system or family…I hoped not to have to think of the past couple of years anymore, just to move forward with my life.
Something that began today. I really hadn’t been confident that they would take me here. I tilted my head back and studied the high ceiling then looked down at the marble floor. Every detail in this place was high class. And I was now an official student.
A legacy.
