Chapter 1 – Amen

9th September, MCM56 – Lossaire, Britannia

Tenten sat without moving; without even blinking, and stared at the nothingness in front of her. She shivered. It was only the first week of September, but the temperatures had already been dropping as soon as August had ended, as if the elements knew the lines men had drawn to define the seasons, and were more than happy to oblige. She hated the weather here. It was raining; always raining. In fact, it was raining right now. Through the painted glass window from across her pew, she saw (through the few patches of glass that were not stained) a dark grey, dusk sky. And if she stared long enough, she would be able to spot the tiny movements the droplets made. Not a glorious, powerful downpour like the tropical showers from home – ones that left the streets with the enchanting, sweet smell of petrichor. No, the rain here was always a sorry drizzles that spat on your face, partnered with gusts of stinging wind. And it was constantly as such. All 365 days. Well, apart from the winter time when it snowed. The weather then was tolerable; or the two or three weeks sometime between July and August, where Mother Nature would bless with minimal sunshine. It was what the locals knew as "summer". It was pathetic.

Currently, Tenten was in a state of delicate balance. She was not quite cold, but she was a little distance from becoming so. As long as she did not move – as long as she stayed very, very still and allowed no more parts of her skin direct contact with the air, she could be content; or at least hold on until the end of this chapel service. And so, Tenten continued to sit, unmoving, both her hands tucked under her thighs, separated only by the grey, woolen skirt she was wearing. She was sure that by now, the thick material must have imprinted some sort of pattern onto her hand. Tenten did not particularly like their school's uniform. It was unflattering. The skirts were too long; the blazers were supposed to be unisex and were therefore straight and rectangular, giving little shape to the waist. Some of the other girls, especially the day pupils, liked to buy the more shapely blazers from one of the trendy boutiques in town, instead of from the school shop. They would get a servant or tailor to sew the school badge back on in an attempt to pass as official school attire. The switch was always stupidly obvious – usually the colours were a bit off, sometimes even ridiculously so, but the teachers had always turned somewhat of a blind eye to this trend.

The girl sitting next to her, Hannah Forster, sneezed rather loudly and Tenten felt herself jolting out of her thoughts and blinked a few times in response. The choir was now singing a long, dreary hymn by Mendelssohn.

Hear my prayer O God incline Thine ear

Thyself from my petition do not hide

Thyself from my petition….

Emily Millington, a delicately tiny girl, despite being the same age as Tenten, with powdery pale skin and blond curls, was singing a solo. Her high pitched, soprano voice echoed sharply across the chapel as it glided on and on and on. Tenten moved a hand to scratch an itch on her nose and immediately felt another shiver coming on. She shoved her hand back under her bottom and sighed.

Emily was now chirping out an extra-long, high note of the word "God".

"O Goooooooood" She was singing.

Tenten waited to see how long this "God" was going to last, and also to see if any quivering or breathlessness or any other sort of tear would appear in Millington's voice as the "God" kept on going longer and longer. It would be funny if her voice broke at this moment. Or went off key. But it did not. What a shame, for she dearly loved to laugh. A family trait, perhaps? Tenten smiled at her own little joke.

"…incline Thine ear!"

Ah, finally, the long "God" note stopped. So had Emily's solo. Now, the entire choir – soprano, alto, tenor, bass – all roared out in unison.

"Hear my prayer O God incline Thine ear!"

"The enemy shouteth!" sang Emily Millington.

"The enemy shouteth!" the rest of the choir sang after her.

"The godless come fast!"

"The godless come fast!"

"In equity hatred upon me they cast!"

"In equity hatred upon me they cast!"

"The wicked oppress me…."

Just then Tenten heard a solid clank made by metal against metal come from the door. She was sitting in one of the pews furthest away from the altar, and closest to the main entrance. She, and the others sitting around her, turned their heads towards the door to see who was coming. After all, the school held a very strict policy about being punctual for Sunday chapel service. This person, if a student, would be 20 minutes late by now, and heading into some major trouble from the teachers. The heavy wooden doors opened slowly, and Tenten saw a tall, obviously masculine figure step in through the door. He was wearing navy blue dress trousers and a blazer in the matching colour – the typical boy's uniform. Before Tenten could figure out who it was however, he had already shut the wooden double doors behind him and stepped forward. From where Tenten was sitting, he was blocked from view for a few seconds, as some hazy glass panes by the chapel entrance stood between him and her sight. She did notice however, a younger girl sitting a few rows in front of her, gasp shockingly at what she was seeing, and quickly turned to whisper frantically to her friend.

"Chelsea, hush!" said Hannah Forster from next to Tenten. Said girl turned quickly to cast a nervous glance at the senior who had scolded her, and blushed a light shade of crimson before turning round in her seat again. It was no use however. As the mystery student continued to step into the chapel, more and more students caught sight of him, and soon, the whole few bottom rows of girls had gone into a frenzy of whispers. Tenten strained her neck to catch a glimpse of the student. She wished he could walk faster. By now the choir had broken their unison and had split into a complex harmony.

"O God hear my cry!" sang Millington

"Perplexed and bewildered O God hear my cry" replied the soprano.

And then, the boy broke out of the panels and Tenten finally realized why people were whispering.

This boy was oriental, just like she was.

He was a few meters away from her, but there was no doubt about it. Although his skin was uncommonly fair for someone of their race, his hair was jet black and so were his eyes. From Tenten's right, Hannah Forster gave her a light shove in the arm with her elbow. She turned to face her friend, and gave her a look that informed her she was just as surprised as everyone else.

The boy looked positively aloof, even bored, despite everyone's attention on him. He must know he was being talked about – it was damn obvious. One of the youngest girls, who were sitting in the lowest row and were, therefore, inches from him as he walked steadily past, let out a short screeching giggle when he was near, which earned her a stern look from their housemistress. The boy was tall, well-formed, and handsome, and for some reason, his presence was overwhelming. He did not seem uncomfortable with the cloud of whispers floating around him, something Tenten was immediately impressed by, and he soon passed their section of pews, and walked on to the next one, finally stopping at where one of the boys' houses were sitting, and took up a seat next to Mr. Mickleton, housemaster of Thornton. Mickleton seemed to have known he was arriving, as Tenten observed that as soon as the boy was settled, he began to converse with him in a low voice.

"Welcome everyone, to our first Sunday chapel service of the school year." Tenten brought her attention away from the boy. By now, she had not realized, but the choir had already stopped singing and was now seated in their pews. The reverend had begun his sermon.

"I hope you have all had a wonderful summer, for I certainly have!"

Tenten heard Hannah Forster yawn.

"I have just heard some wonderful news from the headmaster." The reverend continued. His voice was heavily nasal in nature, and it often sounded as if he were sneering at you although he was perhaps one of the kindest men Tenten knew in this school. He made an effort to make his voice as comical and dynamic as possible when giving sermons, so chapel services were not normally half as bad as they would be.

"He tells me" said the reverend. "That during the summer, one of our very own Upper VI students received a letter of unconditional offer from Trinity College of Cambridge University. Please send your congratulations to Tenten from London House!"

A/N

A few things I would like to note (I hate doing this, but I feel it is kind of necessary).

If you are an American reader (or any non-British reader, in fact), "Upper VI" or "Upper Sixth" is what the British usually call their grade 13 students. According to the UK curriculum, students do 13 years of primary and secondary school before starting their 3 years of university.

If you have not realized already, the chapel in this scene is a relatively small one (since it is a school chapel) where all the pews face one another, instead of towards the alter. Just keep this in mind because I have a feeling we will be coming back to the chapel quite often.

"What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh"

"A family trait, I think."

Credits to Pride and Prejudice (2005)