New school, new start
The soft glow of dawn streamed through my window as I stirred awake. For once, I didn't need anyone to drag me out of bed. Today wasn't just any day it was the first day of school, and I was determined to make a stellar first impression.
As I stretched, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 5:30 AM. Perfect. Plenty of time to get ready. I hopped out of bed, an unusual spring in my step.
No rushing today, no chaotic last-minute scrambles.
I made my way to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The cool water splashed against my face, waking me up fully.
"Alright, Ren," I muttered to my reflection. "New school, new start. Let's not mess this up." My voice sounded more confident than I felt. I wasn't nervous—not exactly. Just... hyper-aware.
This wasn't just about classes or meeting new people. It was about proving myself, showing everyone what I was capable of, even if they didn't know it yet.
Next came my uniform. It hung neatly in my wardrobe, the fabric pristine and freshly pressed. I pulled it on carefully, smoothing out every wrinkle.
The white blouse tucked into the navy jacket with gold detailing felt sharp against my skin, and the matching pants thank goodness for my insistence were comfortable and easy to move in.
The school's insignia, a delicate embroidered crest on the left side of the jacket, gleamed faintly in the light.
After lacing up my boots, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting my jacket one last time. The reflection staring back at me was... different.
The messy-haired, awkward girl from months ago had transformed. My shoulders were straighter, my posture more assured.
My hair, now neatly trimmed to shoulder length, framed my face in a way that felt oddly mature.
"Looking good," I said with a grin, spinning in place like I was a contestant on some weird runway competition in my own bedroom.
The nonexistent audience in my head went wild. I was ready to conquer the world or at least look good while doing it.
And then, with the subtlety of a rampaging bull, the door flew open, slamming against the wall so hard it made me jump.
"Wow, you really are a narcissist," Galen's voice drawled. He leaned against the doorframe, his hair a mess of deliberate chaos that probably took him hours to achieve.
"Galen!" I snapped, my heart racing. "What are you doing barging in like that? Ever heard of knocking?"
He shrugged, his smirk a permanent fixture. "Didn't think I'd walk in on you admiring yourself. Thought you might be, you know, studying or doing something productive."
I opened my mouth to retort, but the smirk widened, and my train of thought derailed, crashing somewhere in the wilderness of my embarrassment. "I was not admiring myself!" I shot back, my cheeks heating up like a furnace.
"Sure, sure," he teased, strolling into my room like he owned the place. He reached out and flicked a stray strand of hair off my shoulder.
"Anyway, the carriage is waiting outside. Thought I'd let you know before you drowned in your own reflection."
I huffed, grabbing my bag from the desk. "You're so annoying," I muttered, brushing past him like a storm cloud.
"And you're so easy to rile up," he said, following me down the hall, his voice dripping with smug amusement.
I could feel his grin boring into the back of my head, and it took everything in me not to whirl around and punch him square in the jaw.
We stepped outside, and my breath caught in my throat. The carriage waiting for us was, frankly, ridiculous.
It was like something out of a fairy tale polished gold accents gleamed in the sunlight, and the dark wood practically screamed, "Look at me, I'm better than you."
The horses were enormous, sleek black creatures that looked like they spent their free time lifting weights and glaring at lesser beings.
My parents stood near the steps, beaming like I'd just announced I'd won a Nobel Prize, while Elira and Carlos lounged nearby, each looking entirely too comfortable for the chaos that was about to unfold.
The second my mother caught sight of me, she burst into tears. Not delicate, polite tears no, these were the full-on, gasping sobs of a woman convinced her child was going off to war instead of school.
"Oh, my baby! You look so grown-up in that uniform!" She threw her arms around me, nearly crushing me under the weight of her emotional hurricane.
"Mom, please don't start crying," I groaned, awkwardly patting her back while glancing around to make sure the neighbors weren't spying.
Not that it mattered; the whole scene was loud enough to draw attention from a mile away.
"She's right," my father said, his deep voice tinged with emotion. "
You look wonderful, Ren. We're so proud of you." He dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, and I half expected him to start reciting a speech about family honor.
"It's just school," I said, suppressing the urge to laugh at their theatrics. "I'm not leaving forever."
"First impressions matter, Ren," Elira interrupted, striding forward like she was the queen of the universe. She placed her hands on her hips and smirked.
"Remember that. And by first impressions, I mean showing everyone you're better than them."
"Better than them?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," she said, deadly serious. "Stronger, smarter, faster you name it. Don't hold back. Knock them off their feet, literally if you have to. Establish dominance early."
Carlos snorted, leaning against a pillar with an air of casual disinterest. "Or you could just, you know, focus on learning like a normal person."
"Quiet, you," Elira snapped, delivering a punch to his arm that made a sound like a small cannon going off.
Carlos winced, rubbing his arm dramatically. "See? She's already starting with the violence. Classic Elira."
My mother sniffled again, pulling me into another bone-crushing hug. "Promise to write, okay? And don't skip meals! You've gotten so thin you barely eat—"
"Mom," I interrupted, my voice strained. "It's just one day. I'll be fine. I promise."
"And don't forget your training," my father added, his tone suddenly serious. "Everything you've learned so far will serve you well. Never let your guard down."
I nodded, doing my best to keep from rolling my eyes. "Got it, Dad. Training. Guard. Don't forget."
Galen, who had been quietly enjoying the chaos, finally stepped in.
"Alright, that's enough. If we keep this up, we'll be late. Come on." He gestured toward the carriage, grinning as he added, "Don't listen to them, Ren. You'll do great. Probably."
"Probably?!" I shot him a glare as he helped me into the carriage, his smirk somehow growing even wider.
I settled into the plush seat, the interior more luxurious than I'd imagined, with velvet cushions and intricate embroidery that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
Outside, my parents, Elira, and Carlos waved frantically as if I were setting off on an epic quest.
For all their dramatics, I could tell they were proud and despite everything, that made me smile.
As the carriage pulled away, Galen leaned back, arms crossed, and smirked at me. "So, are you ready to make everyone cry with your brilliance, or should we prepare for a disaster?"
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. "Shut up, Galen."
And with that, the adventure or whatever this was—began.