2. Welcome #2
A small group of around twenty students had gathered around a short, bedraggled-looking man in the far corner of the hall who Aeden presumed was Master Ember.
He was thickset and stocky and wearing a fur-lined coat.
His long hair was plaited, as was his beard, which hid his thick neck.
He clutched a large roll of parchment in his hands as he scrolled through it to help allocate the students to their groups.
He wore a pair of goggle-like glasses strapped to his flustered face as the students surrounded him, all wanting their name checking first.
“Hurry,” Director Vale said, an air of frustration to her voice, “we don’thave all day.” She gave a glaring stare towards Master Ember, who continued to bluster his way through the parchment, gesturing to the lines as he addressed each student.
It gave Aeden an opportunity to look at the groups and see who was in each one. To his right he could see Rowan and Cassian standing halfway down the line of the Scouts.
To his left was the Guardians line, but there was no one he recognised.
In the Offence class group, he saw Isolde, the girl whose father he had bumped into.
For some reason he remembered her name. She was standing straight, focused and waiting for instruction.
At the front of the line was Kael Blackthorn, his hands placed behind his back as he stood to attention.
Aeden looked around the group of students in the Support class.
Their group was considerably smaller than the others.
The largest was the Scouts, followed by the Guardians, then the Offence class.
The Support group, however, was at least half of what the Offence group was.
They seemed woefully short on numbers, and a knot formed in Aeden’s stomach; he was quite sure he knew the reason why .
The last student by Master Ember fast-walked to the line of Guardians as each of the groups looked up at Director Vale.
“It was interesting to see how disorganised you all were while getting into your groups. Your groups will dictate some of the classes you will be attending, as these subjects will be class specific. However, up until the bonding ritual, you will be studying together in mixed classes unless specified. Some will find these classes more difficult than others, but I cannot express enough how important it is for as many of each group as possible to pass the bonding ritual. After all, what is a Guardian without Support? And how can an Offence rider attack without information provided by the Scouts?”
The students stood in silence as they listened to the director, nervousness hanging in the air.
“The senior students will take you to your bunkhouses. You have a short amount of time to organise your belongings. You will find that your uniforms and training clothes, as well as your class schedules, will already be with your bags. Your first classes will start soon, so please unpack your effects quickly and efficiently, and no running in the corridors, please.”
“This way, please,” a broad voice said from behind Aeden.
He spun on his heels to see who he presumed was a third-year student standing behind their group.
She had her hands placed behind her back and held her posture well.
She had certainly been well schooled from what Aeden could tell.
Her hair was short and mousy brown, the back and sides shaved like a crew cut .
“I will take you to your chambers. The director isn’t joking when she says you don’t have much time, so please, follow me.”
She didn’t introduce herself and was businesslike in her approach. As she walked, her hands remained overlapped in the small of her back. Without saying a word, the group followed as the third-year student led them out of the hall.
She led the way down winding corridors, giving Aeden a chance to appreciate the sheer size of the academy. The main hall had been an impressive spectacle in itself, but the scale of this campus was something that Aeden hadn’t comprehended before arriving here.
The halls were excessively tall, as if they had been formed for giants.
Much like the main door at the entrance to the academy, the architecture itself had a Gothic feel to it, with intricate carvings casting dark and ominous shadows caused by the lanterns that lined the walls.
There was a scent in the air, too, some kind of incense.
It was faint and gave a light floral odour, though it didn’t fully mask the damp smell that naturally came with such a large, old building.
The third year led the group down a final corridor until they reached a large room which looked like a carbon copy of the entranceway.
“This way, please,” she said, placing an outstretched hand towards the equally large wooden door, which was already open.
The gentle breeze that hit Aeden was refreshing, and he savoured the moment before making his way outside.
His eyes widened at what he saw. They were in a courtyard, where a white stone path guided them to the centre before splitting off into multiple directions.
Scattered around the courtyard were varying statues of different riders, distinguishable by the armour they wore and the weapons they carried.
Planters filled the space as well, boasting vivid green leaves and blossoming flowers.
Small groups of senior students stood chattering around the courtyard, but their conversations stopped as their beady eyes watched the new students pass through.
“This is the courtyard,” the third-year student said as she caught up with Aeden, who was now at the front of the group.
“In between classes, you are allowed to congregate here, provided that you follow the director’s rules.
This path here” – she pointed to the pathway on the right – “this will take us to your bunkhouse, which is where you will sleep for the foreseeable future. Be sure to look after it. It might not be much, but it is your space, and checks will be made to ensure it is kept in an organised fashion. Take it from me; your bunkmates will be your allies. You will want to look after each other. If you don’t, you might find yourself sleeping with one eye open. ”
The third-year student simply laughed before continuing down the path. Aeden dreaded to think what he was about to walk into.