How was Amber so wonderfully, but idiotically, oblivious, and trusting? That was all Dawn had worried about. It was at the edges of her mind, she only half-heartedly completed the extra-credit homework, and only scored a 199% on the monthly report!
They had all been called in for an assembly, to confirm the heads of all years. A gonging chime rang went off. “For the Year ones… Amber Lopez and Nicolas Trent!” The principal announced. “For Year twos…” he talked for a long time before getting to the year fours. “For Year fours… Dawn Lupus and Dean Smith!”
Dawn rolled her eyes. It was Dean, the boy who seemed to be in love with her, following her around and showering her with gifts. But it was only Dusk that she longed for.
Autumn airs that slowly became winter chills occupied the crisp English countryside. She was wrapped in a nice coat, sitting by the pond outside, and watched Amber and that strange boy chatting. It was rather strange actually, as she had looked at them long enough, she saw that the pale boy was tucked in the shadows, but Amber was out in a ray of sunshine. The sight triggered a sudden tingly feeling across her spine, like something was horribly wrong, as though the boy was some kind of demon… But that couldn’t be right, right?
A little anxious for Amber’s safety, she made her way over the frozen ground to join them. The boy immediately stiffened, as though he was scared of Dawn somehow. Dawn faltered, but walked on forward towards her friend and the strange boy.
“Hey D-Dawn…” The boy greeted Dawn. “Nicolas was just mentioning how you were the head prefect for the Year Fours, and you have been for your entire stay at the university!”
Dawn narrowed her eyes, “That’s right, I’ve been meaning to ask you why you were put with the Head boy, as we only accept a maximum of twenty-five boys a year, and you are the twenty-sixth.”
Amber shot her a look that conveyed her message, ‘Are you serious?’ In a very, very disapproving manner. The boy nervously kicked his legs on his bench and replied, “Umm… I guess they liked my talent a lot? Feel free to ask me more questions I guess…” Dawn wanted to roll her eyes, she was on the student acceptance committee. They never, ever accepted extra students, not in over a century, never before in the school, but in other branches many centuries ago.
So instead, she asked, “Why weren’t you here during orientation then?”
He mumbled something along the lines of, “My-y mother paid the school to get me accepted late, as she wanted me out of our warring country…” And while Amber patted him on the back, comforting him, she shot Dawn an angry look. The same thing, about her being on the acceptance committee, was why she saw a hole in this explanation too. She was one of the only students who knew that they didn’t accept bribes from parents or anything like that.
She then asked which country was the boy the prince of. The boy kicked his legs nervously again, and replied, “Umm… I don’t feel comfortable talking about it…” For some reason, while this sounded like a comforting message, it dredged up all the lessons Merlina had taught her. Whenever a werewolf had that strange feeling on their spine, something was certainly, extremely wrong. Demons and dark spirits often had very horrible imaginations and take at least a year to think it up, or to copy some idea. And lastly, Demons and dark spirits very often were allergic to sunlight, and conveniently found a way to make it seem as though they are in the light, but a sensible, observing werewolf can spot it easily enough. Now that she thought about it, the boy had skipped so many physical lessons and even lessons which required them to leave. And if forced to, he would bring a parasol.
A series of scenes flashed through her mind.
The boy seemingly so sweet with Amber, but with a feeling down Dawn’s spine as she watched that made her feel like Amber was in terrible, grave danger, and the boy wasn’t what he seemed, with a malicious glint in his eye.
The boy argued with the teacher about going to the woods. He grumbled a bit, then finally consented as long as he brought a parasol and half a dozen bodyguards.
A few weeks prior to the current state Dawn was in, she had glimpsed this:
The boy denying which country he came from, over and over again, even when confronted by the lockers, and when other people were nearby.
Amber telling her off sternly for making the boy feel “pressured”. The boy’s presence was slowly tearing their newly-built close bond apart.
A sad Ezra crying on the phone with Dawn, upset that Amber had missed yet another of their daily catch-ups just to talk to that boy.
The scenes were sadder and sadder.
Nicolas, the Year 1 head boy complaining to Dawn about how horrible his roommate, the boy, was. He treated poor Nic like a piece of trash, making him his personal servant. Nicolas, begging Dawn to reallocate the rooms. Nicolas, succumbing to his forced duties and becoming a hollow shell of the exuberant, intelligent boy he was. Nicolas, almost getting stripped of his title.
This boy was bad news.
Classmates of the boy begging Dawn to find some loophole, some way that the boy wasn’t cheating illegally, and that the bribe hadn’t been accepted, and that the boy was some sort of prince of a country that they all hated.
The only unharmed person was Amber.
Dozens of students crowding the principal’s office, that Dawn had seen from a nearby classroom, yelling at the principal that the boy’s presence was illegal in the school. Students complaining about incidents when the prince was so dark, it literally creeped them out.
Students crowding the administration office, handing in de-registration strips. The smartest, most intuitive students saying that they quit because the boy was a menace to the school society.
The students thought the school was bad.
And then suddenly, she felt a finger prodding her back, dragging her back to the present. Amber was rubbing her slightly sore finger, and giving her and expectant look. “Well?” She asked. Dawn cocked her head in confusion. What could Amber have been talking about. She tried to search through her memories, but it seemed she was to caught up with the thoughts of the past month or two that she had missed the conversation.
Amber rolled her eyes, muttered, “I thought you had photographic memory,” and then said louder. “I asked you whether you thought those silly students who think John over here is “bad news” was wrong, like we do.”
Dawn, wanting, no needing for Amber to understand, vigorously said, “No! Of course not!” But Amber just rolled her eyes in response.
The boy checked his timetable, said, “Oops! I have law next up, got to go!”
