Chapter 4 – — First Year Handbook, Mirror Ceremony Procedure
Chapter Four
“Eidolon animals become part of the owner, bonded to them and tied to their very life source, forming as a manifested reflection of the student’s inner essence.”
— First Year Handbook, Mirror Ceremony Procedure
“Rise and shine, little boner.”
The voice is cheerful. Far too cheerful.
My door slams shut. I could have sworn I locked it last night. I blink, still half trapped between sleep and waking, as I take in the unfamiliar girl standing a few feet away.
“Little what?” I ask, certain I must have misheard.
She grins. A girl not much older than me with long black hair and dark, amused eyes tucks a strand behind her ear as she wanders farther into the room like she belongs here. She stops at my wardrobe, pulls it open, and immediately starts rifling through my things.
“I’m just messing with you. It’s your bone year, so the name is fitting.”
“Sorry,” I say, dragging the blankets higher around me, “who the fuck are you, and why are you in my room?”
“Elizabeth. I’m in my blood year,” she says, still flipping through clothes. “Before you say anything, I had a whole year of being a little boner too, so I know what it’s like.” She turns and drops onto the end of my bed with an armful of garments.
“Stop saying that,” I mutter. “It’s kind of disgusting.”
She laughs, enjoying herself far too much.
Something shifts beside me.
A dark shape drops from one of the bed pillars and lands on the mattress with a soft rush of wings. I shriek and scramble backward, nearly tumbling off the bed as a small bat settles inches from my leg, folding its wings neatly against its body while its glossy black eyes fix on me.
Holy hell, has that thing been in my room all night?
“Relax,” Elizabeth says, reaching over and scratching the creature gently between the ears. “That’s Fern. She’s my eidolon.”
The bat chirps, and I stare at it then back at her. “What the hell is an eidolon? Don’t those things carry diseases?”
She giggles, and the bat vanishes in a quick burst of sparkling mist, as if it was never there at all, and my mouth falls open.
“What are you?” I ask, the first of many questions that come to mind.
“I’m a shifter,” she says easily, as if she’s telling me the weather. “Not the kind that can turn into anything. Those are rare. I shift into a panther.”
My eyes widen.
She rolls her shoulders, preening. “Don’t look so nervous. Get in the shower. I’ll fill you in on things while you get ready.”
I reluctantly head into the bathroom, remembering a second too late that the shower doesn’t have a curtain.
Elizabeth follows me in, drags the small stool from my bedroom across the floor, and sets it on the far side of the room.
She plops down with her legs crossed beneath her, deliberately turning her back to me.
“Go on,” she says. “I’m not watching you. You’re not my type anyway. Don’t get me wrong. You’re hot for sure, but I’ve tried it with girls, and it’s not for me.”
Heat creeps into my face as I quickly pull my hair out of its loose tie and slip out of my pajamas. A moment later, warm water cascades over me, and I can’t stop the small sigh that escapes.
The heat feels glorious.
“I’ll take you to get your class schedule and your books. Then I’ll give you a tour of the school grounds and a rundown of everything you’ll need to know,” she says as I work shampoo into my hair, the warm water sliding down my back.
“Okay,” I mumble, tipping my head beneath the stream.
“This afternoon, you’ll have orientation, and tonight will be the Mirror Ceremony. Probably some after-parties to celebrate too.”
I’ve never been to a party before, not a real one at least. I’ve been to family gatherings back home. Quiet dinners. The occasional village festival where everyone knows everyone else. But a party at a school filled with magical bloodlines is kind of intimidating.
I shut off the water and reach for the nearest towel, squeezing the excess moisture from my long hair as steam curls around me, fogging the mirror.
“Put these on and come out when you’re ready. We have a lot to cover. Oh and use this. You’ll want dry hair today,” she says brightly, holding out a folded bundle of clothes and pointing to a button on the wall.
I wish I woke up with even a fraction of her energy. She sounds like she’s already had several cups of coffee. Maybe it’s a shifter thing, or maybe everyone here is like that. I imagine Ashwell Academy attracts that kind of person, highly motivated and competitive.
I nod, and she steps out, pulling the door closed behind her and finally giving me a moment of privacy.
I brush my hair and then eye the labeled button on the wall for the dryer.
I push it, and a mixture of heat and wind shoots out from the ceiling above me, drying my hair in a matter of seconds.
I’ve never seen anything like it. I glance in the mirror, and my copper hair looks pristine.
Long shiny waves fall down the center of my back.
I don’t even bother with a ponytail today, merely pushing it behind my shoulders.
I pull on the black fleece-lined leggings and the black lace shirt, noticing a small circular symbol stitched into the sleeve in deep amethyst. Bones curve around a wolf like on the cloak.
When I step back into the bedroom, socks and boots are next. Elizabeth hands me a black coat, heavy and warm.
“The school is always heated, but when we walk between buildings like today, you’ll need this,” she says. “Have you looked outside yet?”
I hurry to the window. I couldn’t see anything last night beyond darkness and frost, but now the view steals my breath.
It’s stunning.
Snow stretches as far as I can see, blanketing the world in soft white.
Mountains rise in the distance, their jagged peaks covered in ice, while dark trees are frozen beneath layers of frost. We’re high.
We’re higher than I realized. Beyond the slopes, I catch sight of vast, glassy fields of ice, like a massive frozen lake extending toward the horizon.
I can only assume we are somewhere in the Frostlands, the northernmost reach in all of Valen.
It’s nearly impossible to travel here and even harder to survive the year-round freezing temperatures and volatile storms.
“Yeah, this building has some of the best views,” Elizabeth says. “You’re on the far edge of the school grounds, so nothing blocks the scenery.”
I turn back to her, only then noticing the symbol on her sleeve. It’s the same circular design, but hers is crimson instead of amethyst, a heart at its center with a serpent coiled around it.
“Wait,” I say. “Before we go, can you tell me what these symbols mean and why I’m dressed like this?”
“You really don’t know anything, do you?” she says, settling onto the foot of my bed.
“No, I don’t, so please explain. Maybe that’s why they told you to come see me,” I reply, leaning back against the cold glass of the window.
“Every first year is assigned a mentor on their first day,” she says. “Someone to show them around, make sure they get settled, and answer questions. I’ll check in on you periodically throughout the year too.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I see. So I’m not special then.”
She smiles, clearly amused. “Not in that way at least, but you are the only human who has ever been accepted to Ashwell, and everyone is already buzzing about it.”
I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
Elizabeth hops to her feet and crosses the room, yanking the wardrobe open. She pulls out the black cloak and carries it back to the bed, spreading it carefully across the blankets in front of me.
“Year one is bone year. This is its symbol. You’ll see these symbols all throughout the school,” she says, her fingers trailing over the ribcage and wolf.
“All three symbols stacked on top of each other form the symbol of Ashwell Academy. Year two is blood year. That’s the year I’m starting.
” She taps the serpent coiled around the heart.
“And the final here, year three, is breath year.” Her finger drifts to the bat with lungs beneath it.
“But what does it mean?” I ask. “What actually happens in bone year?”
She crosses back to the wardrobe and hangs my cloak neatly in place before answering.
“Every year has a set curriculum. Bone year focuses on structure, survival, and physical reality. You’ll learn all the basics.
Professor Cane likes to say, ‘Before you can save a life, you must understand what holds it together.’” She snickers after performing a stodgy imitation.
“And we’re supposed to dress according to our year every day?” I ask.
“Weekends you can wear whatever you want, but during classes they’ll expect you in your year’s attire. During labs, you’ll have a locker to change into proper training clothes or a lab coat to protect your uniform.”
I nod, committing it to memory.
“Come on,” she says, already moving for the door. “We can talk while we walk. Plus you’ll learn more at the orientation this afternoon, well maybe. The headmaster can be intense.”
We both shrug into our coats and step out into the hallway. It’s still quiet up here, and I hurry to keep pace beside her as we descend a wide staircase that spirals down through the center of the tower. I tilt my head back, counting at least three more levels rising above us.
“There are six floors total, and each one has five to ten rooms depending on size. This tower is ladies’ housing for all the first years.
” She gestures vaguely upward then glances behind us toward a pair of large double doors at the base of the stairs.
“The men in your year live right through that courtyard.”
We reach the bottom, and she smirks over her shoulder. “We are all adults, of course, so there are no rules about having men in your room. Housing is just organized this way. But keep in mind the walls aren’t that thick.”
She winks then pushes through the massive double doors on the opposite side of the entrance hall, leaving me to trail after her with my heart thudding a little harder than before.