11. Polaris
11
POLARIS
W ith my hands planted on the window sill, I track the movements of people outside, watching as they go about their lives while I stand here, still radiating with shock. The main academy building looms in the distance, a Gothic silhouette against the night, conveying a sense of grandeur that Florentine’s could never imagine.
After scribbling in my diary, all I’ve been able to focus on is my breathing. My mind is wild, repeatedly recounting today’s events as if I’m a character in a novel. It’s like one of the many fables that were lined up in the classroom at Florentine’s. It was a luxury for Mrs. Stephens to share a snippet of a story with us, and now here I am, experiencing my own whirlwind.
I’m not the only one, of course.
My mind wanders to S—I mean Sian. I hope she’s doing okay. B, too, I guess; he looked devastated when he was declared human. I think he’s lucky; at least we know how to be that. Well, a little, I guess.
Today has been…a lot, but I can’t bring myself to feel disappointed about it. Am I out of my element? One million percent. Am I scared of what tomorrow may bring? Absolutely. But am I out of Florentine’s grasp with a tiny seed of hope nestled in my chest? Yes.
It’s weird to acknowledge that, seeing as I’ve isolated myself in here since the moment the bedroom door closed behind me, but it still feels different. Back at Florentine’s, once the bedroom door was locked, I was left alone with the same four walls to entertain me. The window there was too high to see through, and the light that shone through the small square was always dim.
Now, it's like a whole new world. What I'm really unfamiliar with, and what I'm unsure I’ll ever be able to relax with, is the noise vibrating through the rest of the building. As if sensing my thoughts, a bang echoes as a door is slammed, and I startle, but the quick procession of giggles that follows instantly helps to ease the tension radiating through my body.
Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I turn from the window and tiptoe toward the door. Curling my hand around the door handle, I slowly pull it open. My breath lodges in my throat as the hallway comes into view. Just as gently as I opened the door, I close it, but before the latch can catch, I whip it open as fast as I can, closing it just as quickly. I can’t help but repeat the motion a few times, completely awed by the fact that my door is not locked by someone else.
I'm not trapped. I'm not a prisoner. Or maybe I am, just not in the physical sense that I was previously. The sense of freedom is present, even in the ability to just open my door whenever I please. Especially when the essence of the unknown still lingers. Outside these four walls, on the rest of the campus, I don’t know how free I am, but it’s still freer than before.
I hope. But, I’m locked in my brain, fearing a different type of prison awaits.
Another round of laughter dances through the air as I close the door, keeping it shut this time, acutely aware that there is definitely no soundproofing in this place. However, the noise and different vibe filling the space should not keep me up at night. I hope.
Pressing my back against the door, I take a deep breath before shuffling over to the bed. The sheets are soft beneath me as I sit beside my new belongings. Like a hammer to the gut, a feeling washes over me, confirming the swirling thoughts in my mind.
I'm definitely not at Florentine’s anymore.
Looking down at my laced fingers in my lap, the noise in my head quiets as if finally accepting a slice of my new reality. If my eyes were deceiving me, the red marks pinched all over my arm would confirm that I've double-checked with myself multiple times, and I'm right here in the flesh. There’s no denying it: this is not a dream.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I declined to join everyone for food earlier, but I push past the gnawing. Hunger isn’t a new sensation. If anything, it’s almost comforting right now. It’s the most familiar feeling I’ve had since we woke up on that coach.
In desperate need of a distraction, I prop my pillow against the headboard and get comfortable as I reach for the manual that's been left for me. Running my fingers over the leather casing, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what lies inside. As if the words written in ink are about to change my life any more than it already has.
Gazing over the first page, I don't know where to begin. Brushing my finger over the contents list, I scan each word with ferocity.
There are general rules, information about the house’s layout, details about classes and timetables, opening times of facilities on campus, information about weekends and school days, and details about sigil magic. There's a lot, and as much as I'm sure there's some information that’s more important than others, I decide to start on the first page, where it’s safest.
When I flip the page over, a plastic case greets me. Nothing was listed on the previous page, which makes it feel even more daunting. Inside is a device—one I’m aware of but never had the luxury of having before.
A cell phone. A freaking cell phone.
As cool as this is, what do they expect me to do with it? I don’t have anyone to call. I don’t have anyone to update about my whereabouts.
There is no one.
It’s just me.
Florentine’s made sure of that.
The notion is sobering, and darkness threatens to seep through me, tainting my thoughts, but instead of allowing it to grasp me like it always does, I quickly turn the case over and move on to where the pages begin. I can circle back to the new addition later.
“General rules” is written in large block letters along the top of the next page, followed by bullet points that get straight to the point, outlining the rules that have been set by Trinity Falls Academy.
Number one: no killing.
Number two: no harmful acts toward others.
Number three: no using your abilities negatively.
Number four: no using other students as practice targets.
Number five: do not skip classes.
Number six: treat those how you would like to be treated.
Number seven: any illnesses must be reported to the student nurse to authorize absence.
Number eight: enjoy finding who you are.
Number nine: follow the guidelines on staying safe, especially around a full moon.
Number ten: Do not seek information about your blood kin. This will result in instant expulsion and imprisonment until your twenty-first birthday, when you will meet your ultimate end.
I scoff at the complete mash-up of rules listed. An unnerving fact lingers in my thoughts as I consider how many of these rules stem from people attacking or hurting one another. Hopefully, everyone will listen to these rules. The one about my blood kin leaves me worried, making my stomach twist, but it fills me with reassurance that they take it seriously.
I've faced disadvantages my entire life, especially since arriving at Florentine’s. All I can do now is hope they adhere to this rule. There’s that word again: hope . I despise how deeply entrenched in me it has become since coming here. I must keep that in check. I can’t go putting all of my trust in a fickle word that could break me so easily.
Moving on, I have a layout of the witches’ dorm with a key detailing the important rooms. It explains that bathrooms for both boys and girls are on the first floor, and each student has their own storage fully provided by the academy, named and ready. I should be able to find mine when I make my trip down there.
No wonder they put the newcomers on the fourth floor. I might have beautiful views out the window, but I have a treacherous walk to and from the bathroom. At least I can go when I want, which is another huge difference from Florentine’s.
Everything else about the building is pretty self-explanatory. I’ve seen the communal areas already, and there’s not much more I need to know. The map of the entire academy is much more daunting, and I know I’m going to need to use it to get around this place come morning.
No amount of staring at it now is going to help me absorb the information, so I move on to the details of my classes. Excitement churns in my gut like it’s a familiar feeling. Yet, I've never felt it before today—just like hope.
Attempting to calm the butterflies in my stomach, I read the words aloud. “As a witch, your focus will be on potions, enchantments, and charms. Additionally, with all factions within the academy, you will also partake in curses, hunting, and both offensive and defensive skills. It is paramount that all information provided is of the highest quality. We take great care in ensuring an even playing field, offering you information that will not only help you to graduate the academy, but also prepare you for what may come after.”
It sounds surreal and insane, but the prospect of a future beyond these brand-new walls doesn't seem fathomable right now. All I can do is appreciate that I'm no longer at Florentine’s and the countdown I've been obsessing over in my head has the opportunity to be extended. Living until I’m twenty-two? Twenty-three? Thirty?
The prospect is enough to steal my breath. But what’s worse is the knowledge of what I would have to do to survive the curse that hums in my blood.
Shaking my head, I push the thought away and move on to the next page. It’s filled with my schedule and the starting times for classes, the dining hall, and each professor’s office hours. The idea of being able to speak to anyone outside of classes and the thirty-minute break feels bizarre and overwhelms my brain, so I focus on the details surrounding the dining hall. It opens two hours before the first class of the day and closes at midnight during the week, remaining open twenty-four hours over the weekend.
I could possibly go now, but after declining to go with the witches earlier, a trip on my own doesn't seem the best idea.
Scanning my eyes over the schedule again, I can see that my first class tomorrow will be for offensive and defensive skills class. I have no idea what I'm going to be walking into, and even though the thought leaves me a bit worried, it beats the mundane lessons I’m used to.
I turn the page again, eager to read every line, and find information detailing that school days will take place Monday through Friday, with all students enjoying the weekends to relax, practice at their own pace, and take in all that Trinity Falls Academy has to offer. If anyone wishes to leave campus, a pass may be authorized and issued by the office upon request. The possibility leaves me gaping, with tingles dancing up my arms. Not that I have anywhere to go, but the idea of it…wow.
As I continue down the page, it states that no uniform is required, and acceptable attire has been provided. Finally, I turn to the last page, and in dark letters, the headline reads, “Sigils.”
I rub my lips together nervously, confusion layering over every other emotion I’m feeling right now as I read the passage that explains so much yet nothing all at once.
“There is a sigil hiding your magic. It has been placed on you with an item already attached to you. It will likely be an item from before your time at Florentine’s. Though you may not recall, it will be impossible to remove by touch. Each item unlocks the sigil in a very different way, and we will work through this on an individual basis in the sigil class. What may work for one is unlikely to work for another, but we have learned from experience that magic unlocks the sigil when you discover something about yourself or who you are as a person. We look forward to spending each sigil class learning about your purpose in life.”
My fingers tremble at the words and my eyes lock on the familiar gold bands around my wrists—my bangles. I have never tried to remove them. I have never considered it, but I’m starkly aware that they’re the only items I’ve never taken off since being at Florentine’s. It may have been eight years ago when I arrived there. Well, ten if what Mrs. Stephens said is correct, but I know these bangles have been a part of me forever.
Toying with the metal, I know it’s not worth considering whether they will come off. I already know they won't. What captivates me further as I look at them is the knowledge that wherever they came from was once home.
I've always known it, and I’ve always felt it in my gut every time I look at them and my coin.
Now I know it's the truth.
Part of me aches because progressing in my life means losing them. However, as long as I keep my coin, I can achieve anything.
I close the manual with a thud, exhausted by the knowledge that now resides in my mind. My fingers slip into my pocket, wrapping around the coin, and I draw strength from it as I always do.
Tonight, I may drown in the unknown, but come tomorrow, I will strive for the once unachievable.