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elfboyeros · 9 months

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Hallows Academy

Orientation

Hallows Academy Masterlist @karaboutmyart @jj-pines @lereneePlease Enjoy the first chapter of Hallows I have worked so hard on this chapter and I will continue to work just as hard if not harder on this series, just like with Bridgehid. Any questions comments or concerns you know where to leave them all 💚 - Cupid🍏

The video was playing on a cherry-colored smartphone that was sitting on a table inside a train.

“Solostica, once an English territory, is now a small European nation, and the 7th smallest microstate. This tiny island sits in the Celtic Sea. It is covered by beautiful mountains and large evergreen trees. Solostica is most famous for its prestigious secondary school, Hallows Academy. It was at one time just a school for the children of the island, now Hallows Academy is the top school to send the troubled youth of all nations. The academy has gained a sterling reputation, with its top tier education and staff. The alumni have gone on to lead successful lives, which speaks volumes. With a variety of teaching methods from around the globe, this academy is a perfect place to send your teenagers to not only assess and improve their behaviors but also to elevate their education.”

A tan girl with long blonde hair sat in front of the aforementioned phone, but she wasn’t listening to it. Instead, she stared out the window and watched the world go by. She sighed and closed the video.

“It sounds kinda like that magic school in the North Sea that Bellamy told me about. ….But for messed up teens.” she muttered.

The girl’s impression of the school didn’t quite match that little video. She sort of expected some sort of dilapidated gothic structure, where students beat each other up. Not the sort of place she’d want to be, but one she would have to be nonetheless.

Amora, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I had no idea she was sending you to any school let alone a school in Europe!

She adjusted her earbuds as they sat in her ears, and she began to play her music before getting a text, she checked it, sent by someone labeled in her contacts as Dad 👨‍👧.

Amora sighed, her dark yellow-green eyes scanning, tapping out a message to her father: It’s fine, Daddy, I’m over getting angry about it. I’m just gonna have to live with it.

Her father did not respond, but he was a busy man, so she didn’t expect him to respond. Soon after she got a text from someone labeled with a wind chime emoji.

🎐: You there yet?

Amora looked outside the window to see where she was before responding: Not yet, I think I’m close though.

There is a minute pause after she sends her message before she sends another one.

How is Edgar?

🎐: I’m pretty sure he’s got kitty depression.

The blonde teen then received a picture of a Maine Coon cat with dark black fur lying atop a bathroom counter.

🎐: He’s made himself at home, nonetheless.

Amora was then sitting another picture, of a hairless cat in a nice little sweater standing on top of a glass coffee table, its head tilted to the side.

🎐: J. Austen is all confused with him here.

Amora smiled down at the picture of the two cats, while also thanking the Gods and Goddess above that Bellamy was kind enough to take her cat before she left Washington, so her cat son wouldn’t be forced to live with her mother and stepfather.

Dad said he would come and get Edgar when he gets a chance to get off and fly to Washington.

🎐: Don’t worry about it too much, A. No matter when your dad gets here Edgar is safe with me and momma Lagoon.

Thanks, Bell

🎐: 🫡 No problem, I’ll talk to you soon I gotta get ready for school.

Amora huffed. She stared out the window again but this time she saw a huge building in the distance. She couldn’t make out any of the architecture, but considering the size she assumed it was the academy.

The train stopped at a little train station, which allowed an attendant to start unloading the baggage.

Amora put away her phone before grabbing her cherry red suitcase and large travel bag.

She entered the station and made her way to the ticket office. A middle-aged woman sat behind the window filing her nails.

“Excuse me?” Amora asked, “Can you tell me how to get to Hallows Academy...”

The woman didn’t move at her request, “Please?”

The woman just stared at her for a moment before rolling her eyes and pointing to the exit with her nail file. “There are normally cabbies outside,” she finally answered.

Amora was taken aback by the older woman’s voice. What was a woman from Jersey doing all the way out here?

Despite her confusion, she decided to listen to that woman’s advice. She exited the station and glanced around for the cabs.

She finally spots one, but a strange man was standing next to it. He was obviously the driver based on his attire, but he was definitely an odd one.

The man was abnormally tall and definitely inhuman.

“Can you take me to Hallows Academy, please?” Amora asked him.

The driver didn’t speak, instead, he tipped his hat and opened the boot of the car for her to place her things inside.

Afterward, he opened the backseat door to let her in before he got in the driver’s seat and began the drive to the academy.

They passed by isles and isles of tall trees down a long dirt path. Some young people walked down that same unfinished road.

The pair finally arrived at the school.

It was gothic like Amora assumed, but not dilapidated.

It sort of resembled Princeton University, but also the University of Pennsylvania.

The brown, black, and gray building had stained glass windows and several large rotundas.

Amora sighed once the cab stopped in the circular driveway at the entrance.

The students wandered about socializing and such. They didn’t look anything like Amora had imagined. There were even Fae and other non-humans amongst them.

While she was distracted by the scene in front of her the cab driver retrieved her things from the trunk of his cab.

Amora attempted to pay for her ride, yet all he did was tip his hat and get back in his cab.

“This place is odd,” Amora sighed.

She glanced around, taking in all of the sights before setting her gaze back to the school’s entrance.

There she saw a student with brown and dusty pink skin, dressed in a brown pleated skirt, a light orange button-up shirt under a cream sweater vest, pale tights, small leg warmers that resembled the vest, and brown clogs.

They looked kind of like a cookie…

The student smiled widely when their orange eyes locked with Amora’s greenish ones. They approached her gleefully.

“You must be the American transfer student!” they remarked.

Amora nodded hesitantly.

“I could tell. Most American students look super confused when they get here! It’s actually really funny! Like haven’t you seen a boarding school before?”

“Eh?” Amora asked in confusion. Jesus, they spoke super fast!

“Sorry, sorry. I’m Euphrasie Selke! Your tour guide for today!,” they informed her,”I also live in the dorms. …What’s your name?”

“Amora… Amora Seawright.” Amora replied.

“Pronouns?”

“Uh… She/Her.”

Euphrasie nodded, “Mine are They/Them. Let’s get your things to your dorm and then I’ll take you around the school!”

Amora nodded before she followed Euphrasie as they led her down a path on the left side of the main school building.

“All the freshmen are going to orientation in the gym right now so it will be easier to get to the dorms.” they explained while looking at Amora over their shoulder.

“Uhm… shouldn’t I go to that?”

“Nah,” Euphrasie replied, “I mean you are a senior, you know? Besides, school is school no matter where you are.”

“I guess. But this place is…” Amora paused. Should she really speak her mind right now? Euphrasie seemed friendly, but they are attending a school for “troubled teens”, they might kill Amora if she isn’t careful.

“This place is what?” Euphrasie asked as they turned around to face her, which meant they were now walking backward.

They tilted their head to the side for a moment before their mouth formed an o shape. “Oh! You’re here because you’re ‘one of the bad ones’, aren’t you?”

Amora nodded sheepishly.

Euphrasie sighed. “A mom back in the 90s sent her delinquent son here. Once he arrived he started beating people up, including a group of seniors. So of course.. they retaliated. By beating the hell out of him.”

They groaned and rolled their eyes, “Okay so some students, like you, get sent here because they have ‘issues’. But that doesn’t mean that this is a school where we beat each other up at 8:00 every morning. That sounds more like your American school, if I’m not mistaken.”

Amora only stared back at them; her eyes wide. If Euphrasie was right then Amora was dead wrong about the entire school.

“You don’t have to believe me, Amora, but I would never lie. Now here are the dorms!”

Euphrasie motioned to the lovely gothic building to the side of them. It was like a beautiful work of art with its columns, pillars, dark stones, and large glass windows.

Amora followed her guide inside.

The common area was rather nice, full of tables and brown couches. A few students were hanging out.

There are three halls,” Euphrasie remarked, once the two of them were greeted with a hall then a large staircase, “Hall Magnus, Hall Romanov, and Hall Osmanthus. You’ll be in Hall Osmanthus here on the first floor.”

Amora nodded, following them down Hall Osmanthus. The hall had wainscoted walls, rosemary green paint with little decorative white sweet osmanthus flowers, and dark wood floors.

“Room 345… 345…345, here!” Euphrasie muttered, “Just sit your stuff inside, and we continue your tour.”

“Thanks,” Amora muttered.

The room was a normal size, not too big yet not too small, large enough for two people to live comfortably. The room itself had cream-colored walls, with the same wood floor as the hallway.

Amora sat her suitcase and bag near one of the two beds in the room, specifically the one farthest from the door, before returning to Euphrasie in the hallway.

“So, what part of America are you from?” Euphrasie asked as the two of them walked side by side down the hallway.

“Washington State.”

“Is that where the capital is?” Euphrasie asked.

“No, Washington D.C. is in Maryland, which is on the east coast, Washington state is on the west coast, it’s the second state above California.”

“Is there anything fun to do where you are from?” they pondered.

“Eh, not really? At least not in my hometown. There’s a few bookshops, cafes, and a town museum, but that’s about it. But in Seattle there’s the Space Needle and the Museum of Pop Culture. That museum is pretty cool!”

“What is the Space Needle?” Euphrasie looked over at Amora with stars in their eyes.

Amora pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of the tower back in her home state, “It’s an observation tower, built in the 60s,” Amora explained, “you can look over all of Seattle, it’s really beautiful.”

“It looks like a spaceship!” Euphrasie gasped.

“My dad took me and my best friend there before he moved to D.C., but that was a long time ago.” the American girl added.

“…Oh! I need to let Bellamy know I made it!”

The blonde teen immediately pulled her phone away from Euphrasie’s view, typing away to send a message to her best friend.

Due to her focus on her phone, she failed to notice the people in front of her.

She bumped right into a girl around her age, who instantly huffed when Amora’s face hit her chest.

“I-I’m sorry,” Amora muttered, “I should have been paying attention…”

She honestly expected the girl to be scowling at her, or even to curse at her for her clumsiness. But instead, this girl, with brown hair and vibrant green tips looked at her with a shine in her moss-colored eyes, a small smirk on her peach-colored lips, and the slightest tint of blush on her white skin.

“Hey Loki!” Euphrasie said cheerfully, “Lance, Luther.”

“Hey, Euphrasie,” a deep masculine voice remarked.

“Hi, Phrasie,” a softer, shyer, voice commented.

Amora looked past the girl to see the two boys behind her. The boys were obviously related to her, if their chestnut hair, mossy eyes, and eggshell-colored skin were anything to go by.

One of them wore glasses and had his hand wrapped in bandages, the other was in an oversized honeydew-colored shirt. The honeydew boy seemed rather shy.

Both boys carrying a lot of boxes marked Loki’s.

“It’s all right, lovely,” the schoolgirl replied, putting her finger under Amora’s chin, and moving her gaze from the boys back to her, “Truthfully, you are such a pretty thing to run into.”

Her voice was silky and smooth, her British accent made her seem posher than her grunge clothes would lead you to believe.

“I’m Loki,” she pronounced as her face got closer to Amora’s.

Amora’s face instantly became flushed, “You are too close,” she stammered out.

Loki smiled, immediately pulling herself back from Amora, “Sorry, lovely.”

Despite her apology, Loki held an intense gaze. A smirk painted itself on her lips, “Are you the new one?”

“The new one?” Amora asked in confusion.

“We don’t get a lot of seniors transferring. Usually, it’s Freshmen.” Euphrasie commented, “You’ve been the talk of the whole island since the beginning of August.”

“What made you come all the way here?” Loki chuckled.

Amora blushed a hot red.

“Oh ho oh, must have been something scandalous to have become so beet red,” Loki cackled, with a large smirk on her face, “I can’t wait to find out what all you’ve done!”

“Oi, Loki! Your shit is heavy, flirt with the girl later!”

Loki clicked her tongue at her brother’s statement.

“Fine whatever, Luther,” Loki muttered, before walking away from Amora and Euphrasie, “I’ll see you later, lovely!”

The nickname made a shiver run up the American girl's spine.

“C-can we leave?” Amora asked, face still flushed as she stood in the middle of the hallway.

“If you are asking if you can leave campus, sorry, no can do, if you mean the dorms, yeah!” Euphrasie remarked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Anything to get me away from her.”

“Yeah, Loki is an acquired taste.”

Acquired taste?! More like unbelievably creepy! Hopefully whatever being is above will have some mercy and allow Loki and Amora very little interaction in the future.

Regardless of Amora’s feelings about her current situation, Euphrasie took her around the school's campus.

It was full of greenery, English flowers, and little critters.

The Academy had large beautiful green fields. Euphrasie explained that those fields were for football, or soccer as Amora would call it.

Hallows Academy had such gorgeous architecture and interior design. Whoever designed the campus had a clear love of Romanticism and Gothic aesthetics. That much was clear from all the dark colors, beautiful paintings, and nicknacks.

While the pair were on their way back to the dorms, they heard static coming from the intercom. The static filled the dark hallway which made Amora and Euphrasie jump.

“Amora Seawright to Mr. Densmore's office.”

“Where is that again?” Amora asked.

“Come on I’ll show you,” Euphrasie chuckled.

On the way to the office, Amora’s thoughts started to spiral. Why’d he want to see her on her first day? Had she done something wrong? Did something happen and she needed to go back to America? Did her dad manage to get her out of the school? Why? Why? Why?

After she was shown the office, Amora stood in a room that sort of resembled a waiting room. There was no desk, but there were some interesting paintings. Most of the decorations had astrological references. It was an incredibly lovely room, in shades of blues, browns, khaki, and navy.

There was a standing shelf in one of the corners of the room that caught Amora’s attention.

It was full of photos and a large map of a constellation.

The photos were of a couple, a light-skinned man with short black hair and a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks, in various places.

That couple seemed to be very in love, like how Amora’s parents used to be.

Amora looked to the corner near the shelf, “A double bass?” she muttered to herself.

The large stringed instrument sat caked in dust, it obviously hadn’t been played for quite some time, as it just sat in the corner.

Amora attempted to reach out to touch it, only to jump once a door closed heavily somewhere behind her.

“Do you play?” a voice said.

The voice was deep and incredibly masculine, yet so unbelievably soft and almost angelic.

Amora turned around slowly; her face flushed with embarrassment as she smiled awkwardly at the man in front of her.

It was the same dark-skinned man from the photos, but he was significantly older, much thinner, and more tired.

He ditched the locks for an Afro. He wore light brown suit pants, a tweed khaki vest, and a cream long-sleeved undershirt.

There was a medium-gray square of fabric poking out of his vest’s breast pocket, it looked so out of place given the color of the rest of his outfit.

His eyes were rather piercing, those mignonette green eyes stared down at her as he smiled.

“Do you play?” he asked again.

“Huh? Oh! No, no,” Amora replied, putting her hands up to defend herself, “I was just admiring it… I didn’t touch it!”

The older man chuckled.

“Come.” he replied, motioning her to follow him as he entered his office, a room much like the one before, just with more bookshelves and fewer little trinkets.

“Sir, why—”

“Greyson,” he interrupted, sitting down at his desk.

“Mr. Greyson… Sir… Uhm… Why did you call me in here?” Amora asked.

Greyson opened a file in front of him. “You have had no demerits in your entire educational career,” he began, “Your grades are honestly rather impressive. You took honor classes in English, History, and Mathematics. You were a part of a reading program for 3 years. It must have been so hard to tell those kiddies you were leaving.”

Why the hell did he seem so menacing all of a sudden?

He looked at her with an undefinable gaze as he looked at her over the folder in his hands, “Yet you randomly stabbed a boy during your summer break and had an ‘emotional breakdown’ that caused a ‘personality change’. That’s why you are here.”

“Emotional breakdown?” Amora repeated.

“Okay, so when we consider outside enrollment, we give out a ‘Get to know a future student’ survey to be filled out. We also request transcripts and other documents.” Greyson explained before pulling out the packet from her file.

“This is yours.”

The packet is like the middle school “Get to know me” papers a teacher would hand out on the first day of school.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Amora stated.

“That explains why it is mostly blank,” Greyson commented.

There was a moment of silence as Amora flipped through the pages of the packet. Her mother had filled it out without even telling her a thing. Amora felt truly shocked and hurt.

“It is clear you were forced to be here. I could rescind your transfer and you would be allowed to return home.” Greyson informed her as he began to type away at his computer.

Go… home? Going home would mean returning to Washington, where her mother and stepfather were. Her mother would be furious if she returned.

“No!”

“No? But—”

“I just got here! If I go back now, I’ll never hear the end of it!” Amora exclaimed loudly, holding the packet close to her chest, “Even if you explained everything, including why you rescinded my enrollment, it would still be my fault! And that’s much worse than being here for my senior year!”

“Besides,” she sobbed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought of going back home to face her mother, “Home isn’t Washington anymore. …Even if Bellamy is there.”

“Amora—“ Greyson said to her so kindly in a way that reminded her of her father.

“I’ll do whatever I need to stay here, just let me graduate! I’ll fill out the packet myself, I’ll take extra classes, I’ll pay my tuition, just tell me where I can get a job, I’ll—”

“None of that is necessary, Amora.” Greyson stated firmly.

It caused her to stop her rambling, just to hear what he’d say next.

“If you want to stay, you can stay.”

“Th-Thank you,” Amora huffed, before wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

Greyson opened up one of his desk drawers to get another packet for her.

He handed it over, “If you may fill this out, if you’d like to.”

She nodded.

“Oh, and if for some reason you have any issues or want to leave the school, you can come to me directly. My door is always open.” Greyson reassured her.

“Thank you, sir,” Amora replied.

He chuckled at how formal she was as she left his office.

Euphrasie was waiting for Amora out in the hall, ready to take her back to her dorm. On the way back; the two talked about many different subjects that had nothing to do with the Academy.

Once the teens made it back to the dorms, Amora assured Euphrasie that she could find her way back to her own room.

Euphrasie made sure to exchange numbers with her before the split up.

The blonde girl muttered the number 345 as she walked down the hallway before finding her room.

She opened the door to find the girl she had met before with those vibrant green tips, Loki, standing on the bed in front of the door, hanging up a poster.

“You!” Amora gasped, “God, no!”

“I knew it!” Loki exclaimed, hopping off the bed she had seemingly claimed.

“I am not okay with this!” Amora immediately said.

“Why?” Loki questioned, a frown appearing on her face, “…What did Euphrasie say about me?”

“They said that you are an acquired taste, and I do not wish to acquire the taste of you!” Amora answered as she moved her luggage.

Loki leaned against her bedpost and laughed, while Amora began to go through her things. “Lovely. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I believe we’re stuck with each other.”

She sounded sincere, and if she didn’t have such a silky smooth voice Amora might have been angry enough to go back to Greyson to request a new roommate.

“Look, lovely. We got off to a weird start. I was too forward earlier. I’m sorry.” Loki said sincerely.

Amora turned around to look at her in shock. Loki didn’t seem like the sort to concede so easily.

“Can we start over?”

Amora just blinked as Loki stuck out her hand.

“Well, can I start over? Since you didn’t introduce yourself,” the British girl mumbled.

Amora took Loki’s hand and shook it, “I’m Amora… the new one,” the American girl introduced herself using a call back to what Loki had said when they first met.

Loki blushed slightly as she shook Amora’s hand back, “I’m Loki, I am of acquired taste.”

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