Disclaimer: i do not own Twilight or anything relatively like Twilight - except for a vampy story that's being written by moi - but i do own some yummy coffee cake cupcakes with cinnamon cream-cheese frosting topped with sliced almonds. awesome breakfast!
chapter four
"When all of your wishes are granted, many of your dreams will be destroyed."
Marilyn Manson
Isabella
The Academy is massive; all old stone with ivy climbing up the walls and iron wrought fences. The main building is three stories high with large rounded topped windows and a set of cherry wood double doors clad with iron handles.
Beside the main building are two more narrow structures on either side, at least five stories each. Both look more modern but still appeal to a more rustic, older feeling.
Bright green grass covers slight rolling hills, separating flagstone and gravel pathways between the dormitories. Overshadowing even the buildings are hundreds of looming oaks and evergreens, the trunks several feet wide, branches hanging low.
The entire area is so far off from what the city is, it's both shocking and humbling to witness the change. Alice flips through what appears to be a fashion magazine the entire ride, sometimes pointing out where another God takes over the territory - the changes in the landscape are subtle but noticeable.
A driver opens the door to let us out, averting his eyes from us. He's older than any of the people I've seen yet, making him appear human. It occurs to me, after he leaves, that he might be human.
Before Alice and I can take a step forward, a tall, graceful woman steps out from under a tree, faint smile on her face as she appraises us. Her hair is longer than mine, a warm honey blonde streaked with darker tones and her eyes are a startling, clear green.
Upon seeing the woman, Alice stands up straighter and bows her head respectfully, clasping her hands in front of her for a moment.
The woman reaches forward to touch Alice's face softly. "Child, you've grown since I've last seen you."
"Thank you, Athena."
My eyes widen in recognition - Athena, the Goddess born from Zeus's mind, the Goddess of Wisdom and Civilization. From what I've learned in my previous school - before I even knew about my heritage - Athena's stories were my favorite; she won Athens and turned Medusa into the snake-haired monster. She was an inspiration, a feminist focal point even in ancient Greek times when men were seen as the most wise, the most powerful.
Athena turns to me with a wide, breath-taking smile, joy obvious in her clover green eyes. "Isabella, I've heard much about you. Tell me, child, you have found comfort thus far, yes?"
This simple question disguised as a statement was the first inquiry from a God that I had encountered. It startled me with its oddness for a moment before I answered with an easy affirmative nod of my head.
"I see your father sent the gloves," Athena observes.
My eyes flick down to my hands, the cashmere and leather fingers so light that I nearly forgot I was wearing them. "Uh…yes. He did," I confirm, slowly bringing my eyes back to her.
I wonder what Athena sees when she looks at me. A lost little girl who was suddenly thrust into a world she didn't even know existed? Or a young woman who was finally coming into her own?
Or a frightening doll with murderous hands?
Alice, too, is looking at my hands. "We must order more," she says decisively.
"Why?" I inquire before I can stop myself. I almost clasp my hand over my mouth, as if I can take the word back before either women around me can hear it. But, truthfully, why would I need another pair or more?
Alice glances at me as if she's expecting me to be joking. When she sees the genuinely confused expression on my face, her ocean eyes widen. "To match other clothes, of course."
"Alice, dear, be sure to find pairs that match her skin tone," Athena advises, one perfect brow quirked. Alice nods eagerly beside me, pulling a sleek silver pen from her pocket and jotting down a few quick words onto her magazine; her attention is focused completely on what she is writing. "Isabella, you will find some of your belongings in your dorm room."
"Really?" While I had no regrets leaving my old world behind, I had been missing my art supplies, namely my charcoal.
"Yes. I discussed it with your father and we sent out a few sons of Hermes to retrieve some artifacts."
"I- Thank you."
"Worry not, child," Athena smiles, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "I must tend to other duties, now. Should you need anything, my office is through the first set of doors when you enter the Academics building."
I silently conclude that Athena must be the principal of some sort for the Academy and murmur my understanding to her. Without any preamble, she bids Alice and I a quick good-bye.
My room, along with Alice's, is at the very top of one of the four story buildings. The top floor is host to three suits.
When I asked Alice about where the other students slept, she airily told me that the floors were divided by who had sired the student and if the student was a God or Demi-God. She explained that true Gods were very rare and classified by both parents being Gods or one of the parents being a fairly powerful nymph - like her own parentage. The Academy currently had four true Gods, five now including me; a son of Apollo, a daughter of Aphrodite, a daughter of Poseidon, a son of Zeus and me, a daughter of Hades. The rest of the students were Demi-Gods.
Initially, I had frowned at that information, not liking that I was one of the five but eventually reasoning that I would be used to it soon enough.
Sleep that first night was horrible; my mind was racing with first-day jitters and my hands were becoming increasingly chilly as I grew more nervous. I continually worried that the gloves would fail to work as they had yet to be tested when my gift was growing hungry.
I kept telling myself to have faith in Athena and Hades - both, even in writing, had seemed fairly confident in the gloves. As of yet, I had no reason to doubt either of them or any of the people I had met. Perhaps I was being to trusting.
I'd never relied so heavily on anyone before, choosing instead to skip school on days when my hands grew icy. Now, though, I knew I would be unable to skip.
There was also the anxiousness of being transported to the Arena later that day - I'd seen Alice's face when I told her of what the other Gods had decided for me. Instantly, her eyes had widened in shock and worry and fear.
I hoped reverently that the fear wasn't for me.
Alice surprised me though when she insisted on accompanying me to the Arena on the days I was scheduled to go. She'd seemed so wary of the Arena when she'd taken me there a little under a week ago and honestly, the men and boys who were packed into that building her hulking masses of muscles.
My dorm was comforting, though - even in my sleepless delirium, I could appreciate the substantial, pane-less window that let in the so-close silver moonlight and the sheer black curtains hanging loosely on either side of the glass. The low light made the smooth pewter lines of the metal in the room shine faintly.
I snuggle down deeper into the black down duvet and silky black sheets, the fluffy pillows and mattress engulfing me in a warm cocoon of my own body heat. It warmed my un-gloved hands slightly, calming me.
I finally fall asleep a few hours before dawn, waking up to insistent knocking on my door. Just when I assume the knocker has left, it begins again, prompting me to answer the door.
I can feel my hair all over the place, surely looking like a small animal spent the whole night knotting it up as I slept - I'd never been one to wake up either happy or refreshed looking.
Alice's grinning face and perfect hair greets me on the other side of the door. She walks into the room with confidence, immediately going to my closet and pulling out a thick wool black blazer with giant dark metal buttons. "You'll want this," she tells me as she lays it on the bed, sitting down beside me.
My hands, chilly as they are, are hidden underneath my crossed arms. Observing this, Alice smiles sweetly. "I think everything will be okay."
I try to smile back but am unable to. Instead, I sigh heavily and gesture towards the in-suite bathroom. "I guess I better get ready."
"You're first class is in an hour," Alice informs, standing and tapping the stark white paper on my glossy black desk. "I have to go and meet up with a study group. You'll be able to find your class?"
"Yeah,"
"See you at lunch," she calls behind her as she closes the door
I quickly pick out clothes, the first my fingers touch, and turn on the shower, hot water steadily steaming up the mirrors in the bathroom. As the hot fog grows thicker, I look at my face in the mirror.
Pale skin with barely-there natural blushing on my cheekbones, dusty rosebud lips, silvery-grey eyes with specks of lilac and cobalt around the pupil and thick naturally black eyelashes. My eyebrows are a few shades darker than my deep auburn hair, the strands thick and curling, parted unevenly down the middle.
My shower is quick and I am pulling on dark acid wash skinny jeans and a satiny black shirt with capped sleeves and ties for a bow under the base of my throat. I run a brush through my hair and slip on my black Doc Martens with loose ties up the front. I don my jacket and gloves and, with a look out the window to see the harsh winds, I pull out a fringed grey scarf and grab the paper with instructions to bring a notebook and pen for classes.
I find it odd because I am accustomed to bringing a backpack and several binders to school, but I'm sure, as the days pass and a routine begins, I will become used to the change.
My first class is, oddly enough, an art class. I find it easily enough - first floor, large studio room set up with large canvases on easels. There is no instructor present when I arrive so I gingerly pick an easel towards the back of the room, copying the other students as they gather brushes and paints.
A few glance at me with open curiosity while others ignore me completely. As I settle into my stool, I shred my coat and scarf, opting not to take off the gloves; my hands move freely enough in them that I will be able to paint, though I do miss the feel of the wooden paint brush in my hand.
Just as the shrill bell rings from an old fashioned clock above the door, a frantically messy man walks into the room, graying hair sticking on end. His face appears young but his demeanor ages him significantly.
He calls the class to attention, clearing his throat. "Welcome to first day of classes. I am Benjamin and a son of one of the Muses - just who, is not important. You will have a total of fifty-five minuets to create a painting that expresses who you think you are."
The class passes quickly, brushes dipping into paint quickly and the hypnotic sound of bristles against canvas filling the large room. Benjamin walks slowly through the room, stopping beside some paintings in progress every once in a while. He calls the end of the class, instructing us to clean up and place our canvas on the drying racks.
As I file out of the classroom, holding my hands tightly to the jacket I didn't put back on, Benjamin's eyes linger on me, the weight of his stare slowing me.
I raise my eyes to his and he smiles at me, seemingly unconcerned that I caught him staring.
The rest of my classes pass quickly and all seem to have an artistic theme save for three of them - my Introduction to Mythology History class, my Defense Training class and my World Mythology class. I meet with Alice for lunch and she tells me that our ride will be here to pick us up just after the last class.
We arrive at the Arena sooner than I would like. By this time Alice is standing fairly close to me with uncertainty written on her angelic features. The same boy who first lead me into the building is back, guiding both of us through the gym. It is far more empty than it was but that only emphasizes the heavy equipment and matted floors.
"Hey Andre," he calls out, snickering to himself and winking at Alice. She makes a face and pointedly looks away.
A heavy-set muscled man steps into the large main room. His size is stunning but there is an air around him that instantly makes me feel safe. He dismisses the boy and quietly introduces himself. "I run the gym," he concludes, after informing both of us that he was one of the first sons of Ares and that, really, if anyone made us uncomfortable in the Arena, we shouldn't hesitate to tell him. He also makes a point to tell me that there is a bag in the changing room that is meant for me.
The changing room is really a glorified storage room with a bright hanging light and dull orange metal locker and Andre apologetically explains that since I was the only girl at the Arena, it made more sense for me to have my own room.
He left us so I could change into a tight black tank top and a pair of dark grey shorts similar to the ones volleyball players wore. Alice helps wrap my knuckles in tape, careful not to touch my skin as I had warned her. Along with a pair of very breathable, light sneakers, there is a pair of light-weight boxing gloves at the bottom of the bag.
"You look good," Alice says with a smile. I think she's become more comfortable with the entire situation in the fifteen minuets we've been here. She is quick to punch her hands with mine in jest. This is, so far, the freest I have seen her - she seems so relaxed, not worried about her duties for a moment. It's refreshing.
We step out of the changing room and into the main room, stopping short when my eyes fall on the quick moving form of a boy in the middle of the room.
His feet are bare except for the tape under the balls of this feet, his legs bent slightly and constantly moving around the sand-filled punching bag. His body is lithe and lean, tall but sinewy and strong, his biceps clenching with every fast motion of his arms. He doesn't seem to be winded yet but along the hairline of his riotous coppery hair, light sweat begins to collect.
I am bombarded by a sudden feeling in the pit of my stomach that I've never felt before. A certain longing, an ache - something completely unfamiliar that burns it's way into my chest.
I'm not sure that I find comfort in the foreign feeling.
A/N: hopefully this chapter is without error (i proofed 3 times). i felt like it was rather boring but i know that after this chapter out of the way, things will pick up. and...yay - sweaty Edward.
be brutally honest.
~cupcakeriot