Chapter 3: Settling In
Mat felt a strange sense of relief as he stood outside the room he'd been assigned, staring at the heavy oak door with a carved raven motif that seemed to follow him everywhere. When the headmaster had told him he'd be rooming with Ajax, he couldn't help but smile. Of all the students he'd met so far, Ajax seemed the most relaxed—a good sign for someone like Mat, who preferred easygoing company over brooding teenagers and magical monsters.
"Here we are," Ajax said, pushing open the door with a grin. "Welcome to our humble abode. Try not to break anything."
Mat stepped inside and glanced around the room. It was spacious enough, with two beds on opposite sides, a few mismatched pieces of furniture, and a window that overlooked the dark forest surrounding Nevermore. The walls were decorated with posters—some of mythical creatures and others of famous musicians, though none of them made any sense to Mat. His side of the room, apparently, was left bare and empty, waiting for him to claim it.
"Not bad," Mat said, tossing his coat onto the bed. "I've had worse sleeping arrangements. Once slept in a bloody ditch for three days during a campaign. This is practically luxury."
Ajax laughed, plopping down on his own bed. "Well, at least the beds don't smell like a barnyard. Most of the time."
Mat chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Thanks for not being... what's the word? Uptight? Most of the folk around here look like they're ready to carve me up or turn me into a frog."
Ajax snorted. "Yeah, Nevermore's got its fair share of weirdos. But hey, you seem alright. Besides, anyone who talks about dice and gambling can't be all bad."
"Now that I like to hear," Mat said, grinning as he sat on the edge of his bed. "So, tell me more about this place. I've been getting the surface-level tour from Wednesday, but it's clear there's a lot more going on here."
Ajax shrugged. "Where to start? Well, you've already met some of the groups. Werewolves like Enid, gorgons like me, vampires, sirens... we've got all sorts. Each group kinda sticks together, but we all mingle during classes and activities."
"Gorgons, huh?" Mat raised an eyebrow. "I take it you don't turn people to stone just by looking at them?"
Ajax grinned sheepishly. "Only if I take my beanie off. It's, uh... a family thing. I've got it under control now, though."
Mat's grin widened. "Well, I'll be sure not to piss you off too much. Though I've been told I have that effect on people."
"Yeah, I noticed," Ajax said with a laugh. "You and Enid—she's a bit protective of Wednesday. Don't take it personally. She doesn't trust people easily."
Mat leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Noted. She doesn't seem too fond of me, but I get it. People like me tend to stir up trouble. Still, she's an interesting one. A werewolf, right?"
Ajax nodded. "Yeah, she's a wolf. Still figuring out her transformation stuff, though. She's not like the others who've had it their whole lives. She's... different."
"Different seems to be a theme around here," Mat said, glancing out the window. The dark forest outside seemed to hum with an unnatural stillness. "So, what's her deal with Wednesday, then? They're an odd pair."
"They are," Ajax admitted. "But they balance each other out. Enid's all sunshine and rainbows, and Wednesday's... well, Wednesday. They've been through a lot together, though. Solved a mystery or two, kept the school from burning down, that sort of thing."
"Right," Mat muttered, stroking his chin. "And speaking of mysteries... I have to ask. What's Wednesday's angle? She's interested in helping me, but I can't quite figure out why."
Ajax's brow furrowed, and he thought for a moment before responding. "Honestly? That's just how she is. Wednesday doesn't do things without a reason, but she's got this... obsession with solving things. Puzzles, mysteries, anything that doesn't make sense. I guess you're the latest one. You showing up out of nowhere is exactly the kind of thing that'll catch her attention."
Mat tilted his head, intrigued. "And she thinks fate might have something to do with it. Rav—er, ravens seem to play a big part in both our worlds."
Ajax blinked. "Ravens? Like, in your world too?"
Mat nodded, sitting up. "Yeah. Funny thing about that—I'm known as the Prince of the Ravens where I'm from. Long story, but let's just say I've got a connection with the birds."
Ajax's eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. "Whoa. That's... kind of creepy. I mean, Nevermore's whole thing is ravens. You showing up here, with that title? Kinda hard to ignore."
"Don't I know it," Mat said, his tone turning sour. "I've had my fill of fate, believe me. Every time I try to run from it, it finds me anyway."
Ajax shook his head, still looking stunned. "Man, that's wild. So, you're some kind of... prince in your world?"
Mat waved a hand dismissively. "Not really. It's just a title. A bloody inconvenient one, too. I'm more of a gambler, a soldier, a man who likes his freedom. But yeah, the whole 'Prince of the Ravens' thing happened after I... well, married the Seanchan Empress."
Ajax gaped at him. "Wait, you're married to an empress?"
Mat sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, don't remind me. It wasn't exactly by choice. It's complicated."
Ajax sat back, looking thoroughly impressed. "Dude, your world sounds insane. Wars, empresses, ravens... I thought Nevermore was weird, but that's next level."
Mat chuckled. "You've got no idea, my friend. Trollocs, Aes Sedai, Forsaken... it's a bloody circus most days."
Ajax shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around it. "Man, I've never even heard of half the stuff you're talking about. Sounds like you've seen some crazy things."
"More than I'd like," Mat admitted. "But hey, I'm still breathing, and that's what counts."
Ajax grinned. "I'll drink to that. Maybe once we find a way to get you back home, we'll hit the pub and roll some dice."
"Now you're speaking my language," Mat said with a laugh.
For a few moments, they sat in companionable silence, the weight of Mat's bizarre arrival in this world fading into the background. Mat was glad he'd found someone who wasn't looking at him like he was a complete lunatic—well, not entirely, anyway. Ajax was good company, and for the first time since arriving at Nevermore, Mat felt a little more at ease.
After a while, Mat leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "So... Enid doesn't trust me, but what about Wednesday? She seems... different. Not just from the other students, but from most people I've met. What's her deal?"
Ajax sighed, glancing toward the door as if checking to make sure no one was listening. "Wednesday's... complicated. She's not like most people. Doesn't care about emotions or fitting in. She's obsessed with the strange, the dark, and the mysterious. It's her thing. Honestly, I think that's why she's interested in you."
Mat leaned back, frowning. "She said something about fate. That maybe the ravens had something to do with me ending up here."
"Yeah, that sounds like her," Ajax said. "She's got a weird thing for fate. And ravens. She thinks everything's connected somehow, like there's always a reason for things happening."
Mat's frown deepened. "That's exactly what I've been running from for years. Bloody fate. Light, if that's what brought me here..."
"You're not big on fate, huh?" Ajax asked.
Mat chuckled darkly. "No, not really. Fate's like a shadow that follows me everywhere. Every time I try to live my own life, it comes knocking."
Ajax shrugged. "Well, maybe Wednesday can help you figure it out. She's good at that. And if anyone can help you find a way back, it's probably her."
Mat sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's hope so. The sooner I get out of here, the better. No offense."
Ajax grinned. "None taken. But until then, you've got me as your roomie, so we'll make the most of it."
Mat smirked, standing up and stretching. "That's the spirit. Now, what do you say we find those dice you mentioned and see if you've got any luck?"
Ajax laughed. "You're on."
Mat strolled through the halls of Nevermore Academy, feeling oddly amused by the whole situation. Just a few days ago, he'd been in the aftermath of a world-shaking battle, and now he was wandering the corridors of a school full of magical teenagers. It was almost laughable. Almost.
He adjusted the hat on his head and straightened his coat as he entered the fencing hall, a grand room lined with gleaming swords, foils, and protective gear. Natural light spilled in through tall windows, casting an eerie, almost dreamlike glow over the rows of students preparing for their lesson. To his relief—and amusement—he spotted Wednesday among them, standing silently at her station and watching the other students with her usual deadpan gaze.
"So, I'm guessing this isn't like dodging pitchforks," Mat said as he approached, grinning.
Wednesday barely turned her head, though he noticed the slight shift of her eyes in his direction. "You'll find it more challenging than you expect, though I assume you'll attempt to turn it into a farce."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, chuckling as he slipped on his protective jacket. "Besides, something tells me I'll enjoy this class. Good way to let off steam."
Wednesday looked at him with that inscrutable gaze of hers, assessing as always, and he couldn't help but smirk. The girl intrigued him, whether he liked it or not. She was like a puzzle, each deadpan word or silent look another piece to fit together. And that quiet, calculated grace—well, it was something he wasn't used to. He'd seen plenty of deadly moves, but hers were… different.
"Attention, class!" The fencing instructor's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Today, we'll be continuing with sparring forms and controlled engagements. Choose a partner and take your positions."
Mat turned to Wednesday, but before he could even open his mouth, Xavier cut between them, his face hard and his eyes trained on Mat with open disdain.
"Wednesday, care to partner up?" Xavier's tone was just a bit too insistent, his eyes still lingering on Mat as he asked.
Mat chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he grabbed a foil from the rack. "Ah, so I'm getting the cold shoulder already?"
Wednesday looked at Xavier, then back at Mat. "I prefer to avoid partnering with anyone overly emotional," she said evenly, her eyes flicking between the two of them.
Xavier's expression twisted with irritation, but before he could respond, the instructor clapped his hands. "Mr. Cauthon, since you're new, let's see what you're made of. You'll partner with Mr. Thorpe."
Mat raised his eyebrows, smirking at the clear invitation to duel. "Well, Xavier, it looks like it's you and me."
Xavier's eyes flashed with something dark and a little too eager. He didn't respond, only slid on his mask and held his foil at the ready, his stance aggressive. Mat tilted his head, slipping on his own mask with a grin. He'd had his share of duels back in his world, and he knew well enough how to handle a blade—especially when his opponent was distracted.
The instructor gave the nod to begin, and Xavier lunged immediately, his movements quick and practiced. But Mat sidestepped easily, letting him miss by a fraction. Mat could sense the tension radiating from Xavier, his need to prove something—no, everything—written all over his stance.
"Come on, lad," Mat taunted, letting his foil tap the floor with a relaxed, almost lazy rhythm. "You're going to have to try a bit harder than that."
Xavier's fists clenched around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white as he lunged again, faster and harder. But Mat anticipated each movement, dodging gracefully and countering with minimal effort. He took one step back, two steps to the side, each movement flowing effortlessly. In the back of his mind, he felt a prick of satisfaction at Xavier's growing frustration.
The duel continued, with Xavier attacking and Mat deftly evading, his movements casual yet controlled. Mat's eyes flicked to Wednesday once or twice, catching the way she observed their duel. She watched him closely, that slight tilt of her head signaling interest, though she gave nothing away.
Finally, Mat grew tired of the game. With a sudden feint to the right, he caught Xavier off-balance and disarmed him with a single flick of his wrist. Xavier's foil clattered to the floor, and he stared at Mat, eyes burning with humiliation.
The other students exchanged whispers, some chuckling, others looking on with a mix of admiration and disbelief. Mat removed his mask, flashing Xavier a smirk as he held up the foil in a mock salute. "Looks like you're all bark and no bite."
Xavier's face flushed red, his fists clenched at his sides as he bent to retrieve his fallen sword. "You just got lucky," he muttered, voice tense.
Mat chuckled. "Luck's one of my specialties. But that was more skill than luck, if we're being honest."
The instructor intervened before Xavier could say something he'd regret, clapping his hands. "That's enough, gentlemen. Cauthon, impressive work. But remember, we're here to practice, not showboat."
Mat shrugged, offering a small, almost sheepish grin. "Noted, sir."
As the lesson concluded, Xavier stormed off, muttering under his breath. Mat watched him go, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at the boy's embarrassment. It wasn't often he got to indulge his competitive side so thoroughly. And, if he were being honest, it felt good to have an edge here—especially with Wednesday watching. She was clearly intrigued, though she'd never admit it.
Wednesday approached him, her dark eyes giving nothing away. "Impressive. I assumed you'd know your way around a blade, but you exceeded expectations."
Mat tipped his head, grinning. "Exceeding expectations is another specialty of mine. Especially when the other guy's too busy fuming to pay attention."
"I noticed," she said, glancing toward the door where Xavier had left. "He's not fond of outsiders. Or of losing."
"Clearly," Mat replied, leaning his ashandarei against his shoulder as they walked out of the room. "But he's not the one I'm interested in."
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, a faint hint of amusement in her otherwise expressionless face. "Curious."
"Not so much curious as honest," Mat said. "You're a hard one to figure, you know that? Most people who go looking for mysteries end up miserable. Yet here you are."
"I like what I like," Wednesday replied. "And you're not the usual sort of mystery. You're not… ordinary."
Mat chuckled. "Ordinary? Hardly. That'd be boring, wouldn't it?"
They walked in silence for a while, Mat occasionally casting a glance her way. There was something mesmerizing about how she moved, how she calculated each step as if planning a battle in her mind. She had the poise of someone who knew herself—and that was rare.
"So, Mat," she said after a moment, her tone almost conversational. "Was it skill alone that brought you through battles? Or does fate really have its claws in you?"
Mat hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Ah, well, I'd say a bit of both. Skill, luck, and a good bit of running at the right times. But fate... yeah, it's had a hand in things more than I'd like."
Wednesday nodded as if filing that information away. "Interesting. I believe people rarely end up where they are by mere accident. There's always an intention."
"Maybe," Mat replied, his smile dimming. "Or maybe I just had the luck—or bad luck—to end up here."
"You mean the 'Prince of Ravens' part?" Wednesday's tone was almost teasing, a rare hint of levity.
Mat winced. "That's a title that won't go away, is it?"
"Titles tend to have a way of sticking," she replied. "They become part of the fabric of who you are, no matter how hard you try to ignore them."
"Spoken like someone who knows a thing or two about titles herself," Mat observed.
She didn't respond to that, and he got the impression that, for her, titles were less about who she was and more about what she wasn't willing to let go. The idea intrigued him—and, to his own surprise, made him a bit more willing to trust her.
"Well," he said, breaking the silence as they reached the doors to the main hall, "I've got one thing going for me here, at least."
"And what's that?" she asked.
"I'm sharing a class with the only person who hasn't tried to hex me or turn me to stone," Mat said with a grin.
Wednesday's eyes glittered with the faintest amusement. "Consider it a temporary arrangement. Until you prove otherwise."
Mat chuckled, finding himself genuinely looking forward to what the days at Nevermore had to offer. It seemed that with Wednesday—and the oddities of this place—he'd found himself not only another mystery but perhaps, in some strange way, something that fate had finally gotten right.