14 Chapter 13–Uniforms

I wake up in a cold sweat.

I sit up with a groan, somehow I feel more exhausted than when I went to sleep. I try to shake off the nightmare I just had. Luckily the details are fuzzy and already fading, but the feeling they gave me—the dread—it lingers.

'A cave.'

That was the setting of the dream. I was in a cave talking to someone that I don't recognize. And while I can no longer reconstruct the dream, whatever we discussed shook me to my very core—as if someone walked over my grave.

A chill runs down my spine as I walk down the stairwell to the basement—where my wings' bathroom is. I do my morning business, and splash my face with water. There's no way I'm going to let a dream ruin my first day. I slap my cheeks, and I stare into the mirror.

'You can do this.'

After hyping myself up in the mirror for the upcoming day, I continue my morning routine. I bathe, clean my teeth, and prepare to battle the beast that is my hair. While most days I let it do whatever it wanted, today was a big day for me.

As I'm taking on the beast, Marshal sleepily stumbles into the bathing area.

"Goo' morning," he yawns.

"Good morning," I reply cheerfully, hoping to spur him awake.

He sleepily nods preparing to get into the baths. Marshal and I aren't the only ones here of course. I passed by some seniors who rushed to get clean and depart for what I'm guessing to be a mission or quest. I'm already used to waking up early so while there are others there are few. I sigh after my comb fails yet again to tame my hair. I look myself over in the mirror. My efforts were certainly in vain though. I still look like well…me.

I sigh giving up on my hair. While it didn't look terrible for uncombed hair, it's still evident that it's uncombed. I swaddle myself in a towel and walk to the changing area. I slip on my underwear, pants, socks, and undershirt.

I then pull out the pristine white shirt I picked out for today. I slip each arm into its respective hole and button it up. I fold down the collar and walk over to one of the two full-body mirrors.

I look myself up and down with a nervous smile. I think I look alright, before my eyes settle on the mark. Usually, I feel quite neutral about its presence, but as I stare—I start to feel self-conscious. I flip my collar up—it does little to hide it.

'I'm being stupid. Practically the entire school has seen my face by now…but still.'

After staring at myself for a few moments, I decide to leave my collar. I gather my pajamas and march up the stairwell.

Of course, I'm used to the mark by now, but my biggest fear before coming here—even now—is that people won't ever try to see me. I'm afraid they'll just see a cursed human boy they should stay away from. A boy shrouded in shadow…

Before coming here I was sure that the village I lived in was some godsent minority who accepted me even after the mark's appearance. I fully expected to be turned away or shunned the moment I got to the drop-off. But when I first greeted that coachmen, the moment I slid open those doors—I've gotten anything but that. Of course, there's the initial curiosity, but once that faded it felt like they were really seeing me. It wasn't anything like I imagined. When I talked to Kate or Marshal I wasn't just some boy with a mark to them…I was just Benji.

'You can do this.' I think trying to build resolve. It doesn't help much, but I feel a little better as I leave my room. I make it to the common room when I realize I don't know when classes start—the "schedule" we got yesterday was vague—and I also didn't want to go on my own. 'I guess I'll wait here.' My hand goes to my trusty poach at my side. I slip out the book I'd not finished on the carriage.

After some time, a few other first-year teams filter in. Marshal is now sitting at a table with me. Most of the older teams either rushed out or weren't even present. From what I gathered from Marshal, and the general sentiment around the room—everyone's as confused as I am. I yawn wondering what time it is. If I had to guess it's well into dawn by now.

Kate joins us and I'm sure most all first-years are present. Just when I'm sure we've all missed some big announcement, the dorm doors burst open.

"Good morning First years," the headmaster trumpets, strolling into the room. Four other instructors walk in after him each holding a tower of boxes.

"I'm sure you are all confused so I, your gracious headmaster, am here to help," he says in an over-the-top manner, "First you should know to make your way to the main building at sunrise to have a nice breakfast. The main building has bells to help you get to classes on time. As for maps, classrooms, schedules, and all your other burning questions. They can all be answered in the gift-wrapped box that is my present to you all," he waves to the surrounding instructors.

"After you've opened your gift you can head to the dining hall to eat. You're up instructors! Tootles," and with that the headmaster leaves.

One of the instructors takes the lead.

"Stay where you are. When a member of your team is called they will accept the three gifts for the team, and bring them back to your area. Have I made myself clear," the lead instructor asks. The room murmurs in response.

"Alright. Amenger Grea—"

After waiting in anticipation for what feels like forever, Marshal is called and is now making his way back over to our table. He hands us our respective boxes, and I take a moment to marvel at mine.

In every way, it was an ordinary box, besides the fancy scrawling of my name on the top. 'Benji Dariff. That's me!' my mind squeals. I open the box, and I'm greeted by the scent of fresh cloth. I pull out the article of clothing.

It's a long black robe-like jacket, similar to our instructors', the key difference being ours lacked the academy emblem emblazoned on the chest. Though there's a small version of it embroidered on the tip of the collar. The cloth it's made from is fine as well. It has the light feeling of silk yet is as soft and warm as cotton.

'Perfect for the upcoming winter season.'

I stand up to slip the jacket on.

'So cool!'

"These jackets sure are something," Marshal says, slipping on his own, "I think you could fight without it getting in the way too much."

Marshal then twists and moves his arms sharply, testing their movement. Kate—who put her jacket on first—is intently reading the papers that were at the bottom of the gift box.

"They look cool too," Marshal says, sitting back in his chair.

"Yeah," Kate and I say, though Kate isn't really paying attention.

"Not too stoked for history though," Marshal sighs.

I can't deny that I too am not excited for it either.

"Oi Kate, you're bookish aren't you," Marshal asks.

Kate lazily nods her head engrossed in her papers' contents. I'm starting to get nervous as they must be important. I take out mine and stare at the first packet.

'Yeah no.'

I promptly put it back at seeing the dizzying amount there is to read.

'I'll read it later.' I promise myself.

"Guess we know who we're relying on for classes, eh Benji," Marshal says.

I give a slight nod. We haven't even started our Academic classes and I'm worried. Let's just say I was the most scared of my mom when she was teaching me my basic academics. I'm really bad at studying.

"Let's put away our boxes and head to the dining hall," Kate suddenly says, putting down her papers.

I look around the room. While one or two teams defiantly left I wasn't sure.

'The instructors aren't stopping anyone.'

"Benji," Kate pouts, "Trust me, okay."

She shakes the packet of papers in her hand for emphasis. I divert my eyes, opting for a nod instead of my mumble of a response. Marshal gives me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as we walk toward the boys' wing.

I sigh—hoping the breakfast we'd been promised would make me feel better.