Chapter 2: Of Ravens and Fate
Wednesday led Mat deeper into the grand halls of Nevermore Academy, the dim lighting and gothic architecture adding to the atmosphere of gloom. Mat couldn't help but glance at the towering portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses, their eyes seeming to follow him with disapproval. The students who passed them gave him curious looks and whispered to one another, but no one dared approach after Xavier's confrontation.
Mat adjusted his hat and followed along, his hands resting comfortably on his belt. As they turned down another shadowy corridor, he couldn't resist making a jab at his surroundings.
"So, what do they teach you in this lovely little crypt of a school? How to brood while staring dramatically out of windows?" Mat asked with a smirk, his voice echoing in the stone hallway.
"Among other things," Wednesday replied dryly, not rising to the bait. "The curriculum covers various subjects—alchemy, divination, botany... anything that pertains to the darker, more peculiar aspects of existence."
"Ah, sounds... educational," Mat said, though the sarcasm was thick in his tone. "Do they give out prizes for best funeral attire?"
Wednesday glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "No, but we do have archery competitions and fencing classes. If you're so inclined, you could test your skill against students who've been training their whole lives."
Mat chuckled. "Fencing, you say? Well, I've never had much use for poking someone with a skinny little sword. Now, give me a quarterstaff, and maybe I'd have a shot." He tapped the ashandarei on his shoulder as they walked. "Besides, I'd hate to embarrass the lot of them."
Wednesday's lip twitched. "You might surprise yourself. Nevermore's students aren't exactly ordinary."
Mat glanced at the students they passed—groups huddled together in their little cliques. One group wore dark, somber robes and whispered to each other in the corner, their faces painted pale as ghosts. Another, brightly dressed, laughed as they formed strange hand gestures that flickered with small bursts of light.
"And what do you call that lot?" Mat asked, nodding to the more animated group. "A merry band of fireworks enthusiasts?"
"The Flares," Wednesday said. "They're a club of students with elemental powers, mostly fire manipulation. They can set you on fire with a flick of their wrist if they want."
"Fire, eh?" Mat mused. "I've been on the wrong end of a fireball before. Not fun, I'll tell you that."
"They wouldn't last long in a proper fight," Wednesday added, almost as an afterthought.
Mat snorted. "Probably not. Though I have to admit, they're a bit more interesting than the white-faced lot in the corner. What are they supposed to be? The Ghost Brigade?"
"The Moonlit Order," Wednesday said without skipping a beat. "They practice necromancy."
Mat blinked, then grinned. "Well, isn't that cheerful? So, what, they raise a few skeletons for a bit of fun on a Saturday night?"
"They'd consider it a privilege," Wednesday replied, her tone as flat as ever. "The school encourages such... extracurricular activities."
Mat shook his head, trying to imagine the sort of people who'd willingly dabble in necromancy. "In my world, we've got Darkfriends—folk who'd happily sell their souls to the Shadow. These Moonlit types wouldn't be out of place in that lot."
Wednesday didn't respond, but Mat could see her watching him closely. They continued their walk, passing through the academy's expansive halls. Eventually, they stepped into a large common room, where more students were milling about—some playing chess, others reading old, leather-bound books. The air was thick with the scent of ancient tomes and burning candles.
Mat wandered over to the large fireplace, where an ornately carved raven sat perched above the mantle. He reached up and traced the bird's wings with his finger, admiring the craftsmanship. "Nice bird," he commented, glancing back at Wednesday. "You've got a thing for ravens, I take it?"
"They're the symbol of Nevermore," Wednesday said, walking over to stand beside him. "We respect what they represent—intelligence, cunning, and a connection to the darker realms."
Mat smirked, adjusting his coat. "Well, that explains the décor. Funny thing about ravens, though. In my world, they're a bit more... personal."
Wednesday's eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "How so?"
Mat hesitated for a moment, not particularly fond of discussing his titles or the weight they carried. But Wednesday had a way of pulling information out of him without even trying. "Well, I've got this little nickname where I'm from," he said with a wry smile. "The Prince of the Ravens."
Wednesday's eyebrows shot up—a rare display of genuine surprise. "Prince of the Ravens?"
"Aye, strange, isn't it?" Mat said, scratching the back of his neck. "Bloody title they slapped on me after I got tangled up with the Seanchan. They've got this whole thing with ravens. Apparently, I married their Empress, which made me their Prince. Ravens represent the Empress's eyes in their world."
Wednesday stared at him, processing this new information. "You're married to an Empress?"
Mat sighed. "It's a long story. Let's just say it wasn't exactly by choice, and leave it at that."
For a moment Wednesday remained silent, but her gaze was sharper than ever. She moved closer to the fireplace, running her fingers over the raven statue. "Fascinating," she murmured, more to herself than to Mat. "The raven is a symbol here as well. Nevermore's legacy is tied to it. And now you—a self-proclaimed Prince of the Ravens—show up at our academy, seemingly by chance."
Mat shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the direction this conversation was heading. "Look, I wouldn't put too much stock in fate, if I were you. I've had my fair share of run-ins with it, and it's never been pleasant."
Wednesday's eyes gleamed with intrigue. "Perhaps it wasn't chance that brought you here. Perhaps the ravens—both yours and ours—led you."
Mat chuckled, though it was a nervous sound. "Light, don't start talking about destiny. I've been running from that for years. Bloody thing always catches up to you, though. Seems like no matter how many turns of the dice, it finds a way."
Wednesday looked at him for a long moment, and though her expression didn't change, there was something in her gaze that felt almost... understanding. "Fate has a way of drawing people together. People who share... commonalities."
Mat glanced at her sideways, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Oh, really? You think we've got something in common?"
"You run from destiny," Wednesday said matter-of-factly. "I seek it out. We're opposites in that regard. But perhaps we're not so different."
Mat leaned against the fireplace, folding his arms. "Well, I've got a knack for gambling, drinking, and surviving when I probably shouldn't. What do you have?"
"A talent for outwitting those who underestimate me," Wednesday said coolly. "And an appreciation for the macabre."
Mat laughed. "Well, there you go! We're practically two peas in a pod."
For the first time, Wednesday allowed herself a faint smirk. "If that pod were grown in a cursed field, perhaps."
"Exactly," Mat said, tipping his hat in agreement. "But if you start talking about ravens and fate again, I might have to run for the hills."
Wednesday studied him for a long moment, her eyes still lingering on the raven statue. "Perhaps fate isn't something you can outrun forever."
Mat's grin faltered slightly, the weight of her words settling in. "Maybe," he muttered. "But I'll keep trying."
They stood in silence for a moment, the crackling of the fireplace the only sound between them. Mat shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what to make of this strange place, this strange girl, and the talk of destiny. He'd spent years running from one fate only to stumble into another—whether it was saving the world or becoming a bloody prince. And now he was here in a place that felt eerily like it was waiting for something to happen.
"Well," Mat said finally, shaking off the tension. "If I'm stuck here for a bit, I suppose I could get used to it. Just no more talk about fate, alright? Makes my skin crawl."
Wednesday nodded, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Fair enough. But don't be surprised if fate has other plans."
Mat groaned. "Bloody hell, I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
She didn't respond, but her expression said everything.
Mat and Wednesday moved through the winding halls of Nevermore, the eerie quiet broken only by the occasional whisper of students or the rustle of curtains in the cold breeze that seemed to linger everywhere. Mat wasn't quite sure what to make of this place. Sure, he'd been to a lot of strange places, but this school felt like it had a life of its own. He couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were watching him, waiting for something to happen.
"So," Mat said, trying to fill the silence, "aside from ravens and brooding teenagers, what else should I know about this place? Or is that the full tour?"
"There's more," Wednesday said, her voice as flat as ever. "The academy is divided into groups, much like your world's kingdoms or factions, though... ours are far more interesting."
Mat arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."
"There are werewolves, gorgons, vampires, and sirens," Wednesday explained, as if discussing the most ordinary of things.
Mat stopped walking, turned to face her, and blinked. "Bloody ashes, is this a school or a zoo?"
Wednesday's lip twitched. "In many ways, both."
Mat chuckled, shaking his head as they resumed walking. "Werewolves, huh? I suppose I should be keeping an eye out for full moons, then. Wouldn't want to get chewed up by someone's pet wolf."
"You'll know when the moon's full," Wednesday said dryly. "And it's not the wolves you need to worry about. It's the ones who can't control their... tendencies."
They rounded a corner and almost immediately came across two students—one with bright pink and blonde hair in a colorful jacket, and the other a laid-back guy with messy hair and an easy smile. The pink-haired girl looked Mat up and down with an unimpressed scowl, while the boy gave him a friendly nod.
"Wednesday," the girl—Enid, if Mat remembered correctly from the whispers earlier—said in a clipped tone. Her eyes then darted to Mat, suspicion written all over her face. "Who's this?"
"Mat Cauthon," Wednesday said. "An anomaly."
Mat tipped his hat, grinning. "Pleasure to meet you, love. I'm the anomaly in question. Though I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."
Enid didn't seem to care for his humor. She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "You don't belong here."
Mat grinned wider. "That makes two of us, doesn't it?"
Wednesday's deadpan gaze shifted between the two, her silence letting the tension hang in the air. Meanwhile, the boy beside Enid, Ajax, looked Mat over and shrugged. "You look like a guy who knows how to have a good time," he said, grinning. "You play dice?"
Mat's eyes lit up. "Do I? Bloody right I do! I'd roll the dice with the Dark One himself if the stakes were good enough."
Ajax laughed. "Nice. I've got a pair in my room. We should play sometime. Not much to do around here except study and avoid getting cursed by random magical relics."
"Ha! Sounds like my kind of place," Mat said, immediately warming to Ajax. "Anything involving gold and a bit of luck? I'm in."
Enid looked exasperated. "Ajax, you can't just—"
Ajax waved her off with an easygoing grin. "Relax, Enid. He seems cool. Besides, it's nice to meet someone who's not... you know, part of the usual crowd."
Mat leaned in toward Enid and gave her a wink. "Come on, love. Don't be so serious. I'm just passing through."
"You're a distraction," Enid replied, her tone sharp. "Wednesday has enough mysteries to solve without some random guy showing up and making things worse."
"Oh, I'm plenty worse," Mat said with a wide grin. "But I tend to make things fun while I'm at it."
Ajax laughed again, clearly amused. "I like this guy."
Enid, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. "Of course you do."
Mat turned back to Wednesday, who was observing the exchange with a curious detachment. "So, werewolves, gorgons, and what else? Sirens and vampires? I assume there's a group of pale-skinned folks lurking in dark corners too?"
"Vampires are nocturnal," Wednesday said simply. "You'll see them after sunset. They keep to themselves, mostly."
"Ah, of course," Mat said, his voice full of sarcasm. "Wouldn't want to interrupt their brooding under the moonlight. Probably writing poetry about blood."
Ajax snorted, while Enid looked even less amused. Mat could tell she wasn't fond of him, but he didn't mind. He'd dealt with pricklier people than her.
"And sirens?" Mat asked. "What, do they sing people to death?"
"They manipulate emotions," Wednesday said. "It's more subtle. Dangerous in different ways."
Mat whistled. "Sounds like some of the women I've known."
Enid's eyes flashed with irritation. "We should go, Ajax."
But Ajax didn't seem ready to leave. "Nah, you go on ahead. I'll catch up later."
Enid glared at him, then shot Mat one last look before storming off. Ajax waved her off with a shrug. "She'll be fine. She's just protective of Wednesday."
Mat raised an eyebrow, glancing at Wednesday. "You've got yourself a loyal pack here."
"They're not a pack," Wednesday said, though she didn't seem to mind the description. "They're... useful."
Mat grinned. "Ah, of course. Always good to keep useful people around."
Ajax laughed, but before he could respond, the door at the end of the hall came into view. It was large, made of heavy oak, and adorned with intricate carvings. Above it, another raven motif stared down from the lintel, its eyes gleaming in the low light.
"That's the headmaster's office," Wednesday said, her tone taking on a slightly more serious edge.
Mat looked up at the raven and snorted. "More ravens. You lot really like your symbolism, don't you?"
"We're an institution of tradition," Wednesday replied. "It's important."
"Tradition, eh?" Mat said, amused. "Let me guess, the headmaster's some old stiff who wears a monocle and talks about upholding honor and duty?"
Ajax smirked. "Actually, you're about half right."
"The monocle part?" Mat asked.
"Nah, the stiff part," Ajax said. "Barry Dort's the headmaster now. He's a bit younger than the previous one. But yeah, he's all about tradition. Kind of an academic type."
"Figures," Mat muttered.
Wednesday knocked on the heavy door, and a voice from within called out, "Enter."
Mat followed Wednesday into the office, glancing around at the dark wood paneling, tall bookshelves, and the ever-present scent of old parchment. Sitting behind a large, ornate desk was Headmaster Barry Dort, a man in his late forties with sandy brown hair, sharp eyes, and an air of someone who valued order. He glanced up from a book and regarded Mat with thinly veiled curiosity.
"Wednesday," Barry said, nodding to her before turning his attention fully to Mat. "I hear we have a guest."
Wednesday stepped forward. "This is Mat Cauthon. He... arrived unexpectedly."
Barry's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Mat. "Unexpectedly, indeed. I've heard rumors of a stranger causing a bit of a stir already."
Mat tipped his hat. "Not intentionally, of course. Trouble just tends to find me."
Barry leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "So it seems. And what, exactly, do you expect from us, Mr. Cauthon?"
Mat exchanged a glance with Wednesday before answering. "Well, I didn't plan on showing up here at all, truth be told. I just fought a bloody war to save my world, and next thing I know, I'm in a forest that looks like it could use a bit more sunlight."
Barry's expression didn't change. "So, you don't know how you got here?"
"Not a clue," Mat said, shrugging. "But I'm hoping to figure that out. Wednesday here says she's got a knack for solving mysteries. Thought maybe she could help me get back to where I belong."
Barry glanced at Wednesday, his brow furrowing slightly. "Is that so?"
Wednesday gave a slow nod. "He's not from this world. There's something... unusual about his presence."
Barry studied Mat for a long moment before leaning forward. "And what makes you think we can help you, Mr. Cauthon?"
Mat sighed. "Honestly, I don't. But I figure it's worth a shot. Better than wandering around trying to avoid being set on fire by a group of teenagers."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Barry's mouth, though it didn't last long. "Very well. I'll allow Wednesday to assist you. But I must warn you—Nevermore is not a place for outsiders. The students here are... unique, as you've no doubt noticed. We have to be cautious."
Mat grinned. "Caution's not really my strong suit, but I'll try to behave."
Barry nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced. "I'll leave you in Wednesday's capable hands. But be careful, Mr. Cauthon. This place has its own mysteries."
Mat tipped his hat again. "Oh, trust me, I've learned that already."
As they turned to leave, Wednesday glanced at Mat. "Looks like you're staying a while longer."
Mat sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just what I needed—another bloody adventure."