My name is Eliza Mayheart, I am a 15-year-old girl, born and raised in New York City.
I moved out to Scotland when I was 13, after my dad's father’s death, only to discover my mother is not who my dad told me she was. Since then, I've had some trouble. Yes, I was magic, half-magic, at least. My mother is in a powerful position, but still, here I am, facing the high council. It should almost be considered an honor. Most of the time the council just sends the minors to the normal courts. I truly stump myself sometimes. “Are we sure of this conclusion?” my mother asks. Jane, the high councilor, doesn't respond but speaks directly to me. “Eliza, instead of this becoming a criminal trial, if you agree, you will continue your high school education at Grimrose Academy. Where, they will hopefully , reform you.” She pauses and presses her hands to her temples. “Eliza, I believe you were misguided. I think your father made choices that have reflected poorly on you. This is your only second chance. If I get one word from the headmistress, we will have a much bigger issue.” Jane frowns, the lines on her lower chin say she does that quite often. I have to stop myself before I make a rude remark about it. “I see,” I mutter through pursed lips. “When will I leave?” I blurted, wanting to get out of here as fast as possible. She smiles. Oh crap; that can’t be good. “As soon as I get word to Headmistress Rose,” she replies. “We want you there before the start of term. Until then, I assume you will stay with family and help out around your house center.” Now it's my turn to grimly smile. “Is there an estimated time for how long it will take for the headmistress to respond?” Jane sighs and almost looks defeated. “I’d say a few days,” she says finally. “You may leave, Miss Eliza.” she adds. Under any other circumstances I'd say it was a suggestion, but this time, it’s not. It’s an order. “Yes, of course,” I say quickly, completely shocked by how this has turned out. “Thank you all for your time,” I add courtly before I practically run out of the room. The same secretary from earlier looks at me with shock. I assume she’s heard the ruling, I would be shocked too. Maybe I am shocked, but I knew nothing bad would happen to me. I'm the daughter of a counselor, so my safety was all but inevitable. Besides the fact, I truly cannot understand that Jane let me go like that.
Well, here we go. Boarding school. You’ve got to love it. The truth is Matilda, my mother, is probably ecstatic. She's wanted to get rid of me since I could talk. “Elizabeth,” she crowed, stepping out of the room. Speak of the devil. “Yes, mom?” I say while rolling my eyes. “Let’s go back to the house and get you ready,” she says excitedly. I guess I was right. “Actually, mom, could I say bye to a few friends first? I doubt it will take too long for Jane to tell the headmistress I’m coming, probably only a night or so? I want to say goodbye before I leave.” Matilda looks at me with a pinched smile. “Sure.” I attempt to send a gentle smile but it looks much more tense than I'd hoped. She sighs and begins towards the elevator. Once we’ve dropped 10 stories, we step outside and I take a thankful breath. Today could’ve been awful, all over one stupid, simple kid thing. Like who doesn’t steal a thing or two as a prank in their teenage years? It was a right of passage. Or at least that’s what I say to myself. I continue down the parking lot, which is strangely empty. “Mom, where'd everyone go?” I ask my mom, who walks two paces behind me. No response. “Mom?” I turn around sharply only to find no one walking behind me. “Mom...” I pause, taking a panicked breath. “Come on, this isn’t funny.” I pace back and forth in the parking lot anxiously. “MOM!” I shout. She's left before. This is nothing. She'll show up. She'll take you home. You’ll get one more night in your own bed. One more, I think to myself.
“ Your mother is not coming,” a dark voice says from across the parking lot. Steeling myself for what seems to be another negative interaction. “No shit,” I say apathetically. I stare blankly, looking at the voice. Except, his body is casted into the shadows from the rain clouds. “Who are you?” I press.
“Me?” He throws his head back in a laugh, his deep, yet gentle voice bouncing off of cars. “Eliza, you know damn well who I am.” I look towards the voice with a pointed stare, confused. “ “Maybe you’re not as important as you think you are. Instead, tell me why I should remember you,” I say. “Maybe you’d care to refresh my memory on whoever is gracing me with their presence.” He once again laughs, though this time is more of a smile with a long exhale. “Maybe I would,” he says, stepping outside of the shadows. That was when I got a good look at him. He has dirty blond hair, with that one hairstyle all boys seem to have, but he looks to be the type who cut his hair that way before everyone else did. “I’m Elias.” I look at his face, searching my memory for Elias. I accidentally meet his eyes, but I'm not the one to look away first. He has a strong jawline, and his eyes are a strong green, overly confident. He thinks I’ll remember him. It almost makes me want to smack him. Besides the pretty eyes and the 90 degree jawline, it is a perfectly hittable face. His cheeks aren't hollow, but they certainly aren't filled out. His forehead is probably a 5 head if you pulled the hair back, and the greek nose just makes it like he's asking to be slapped across the face
But then I'm the one smacked across the face because I DO remember him. I take 2 confident steps towards him. “Elias thornburn ,” I say, not sure how to greet him. He chooses for me by closing the remaining 5 feet of distance between us in 3 simple steps, and giving me a curt little hug. With a smile he says “ I knew it!” I look up at him and smile, now seeing the resemblance to the pudgy little boy I knew all those years ago. Taking that into account I choose my next words wisely. “You grew up.” I stated simply. He laughed. “People tend to do that over the years.” Still star-struck by this meet and greet, I almost lost my initial cause. “I'm assuming this wasn't a coincidence?” He looks at me grimly, the joy from moments ago gone. “No, Isa, not really.” I smile at the use of my childhood nick-name. “What are you doing here, Eli?” I question gently, using his nick-name the same way he used mine. “I go to Grimrose Academy,” he says plainly. “The head counsellor was fast, then,” I say, matching his tone. “Really fast,” I add, “So, I'm guessing you're here to take me away .” he looks at me, regret in his eyes, “ I’m sorry it had to go this way.” I give him a small smile. “Might as well get it over with, right?” He chuckles, but there's no humour in it. He gently grabs my hand, thinking he meant to console me yet in a flash, my surroundings change completely. “Welcome to Grimrose Academy,” he whispers against my ear. This hallway, I'm guessing it’s the greeting hall, is beautiful. It has oak beams and arches over the hall, and emerald green walls, but you can barely see them because of the suits of armour that stand on both walls, another suit standing 5 feet down from the one before it, with a table and a tapestry in between them. This pattern repeated down the entire hall. I stand there, starstruck for a solid minute, until a tall and willowy woman walks into the room. Her white heels click against the dark oak floors. I wouldn't even notice her in public, even with the beautiful navy blue dress she wears. Even with her height, and her light blonde hair, she looks ordinary. But here, in this very moment, she walks with authority. Power. Perfection. I have to say, I'm a little intimidated.
“Elizabeth Mayheart” she echoes, her voice, light and airy, yet I wouldn't dare to interrupt her. “Welcome to Grimrose Academy,” she says curtly, her Scottish accent coming through. “I am Headmistress Rose. Please know, my door is always open to all students,” she says formally. “Oh, and thank you, Elias. You may go to bed now,” she mutters to him. Wait a moment, I thought. At the court, it was 4 pm. “What time is it here?” I ask gently. The woman smiles. It reminds me of my friend Lilith, her smile makes you feel like best friends even when you haven't had a conversation. “You catch on fast. Most people don't realize the time difference until the next day.” Her eyes lift to mine. She reaches out to touch my shoulder, just when I realize I'm still wearing my dress from the courtroom. “It's around 11 pm here, but some of the boys are having a party, so it still sounds like 2 pm.” I smile at this. “Funny, I can't hear anything.” She just chuckles and says, “You will.” She sharply turns. “We should get you to your room.” Oh, crap. This was what I’d been dreading bringing up. “I don't have anything from home, so-”
“Actually-” she interrupts me, “-we had your mother send some things she said you might like.” Perfect, so I’m going to get nothing I wanted to bring, not that I had much time to think.
After trailing behind this woman for a total of 1o minutes, between the sharp turns and trying to look at the architecture, I'm sure I'll be lost tomorrow. We find ourselves inside a long hallway with a high ceiling and many, many doors. “Here we are,” she says excitedly as we stop in front of a dark oak door decorated with painted vines. Whoever lives here, I like her. The woman sharply raps her knuckles against the door frame and a girl, probably a year older then me, but 2 to 3 inches taller steps out. “Hi, I’m Amargo,” she says as she wraps me in a hug. I was shocked, and took a second before gingerly hugging her back. “Most people call me Margo, though,” she says, stepping out of the doorway so I can see into the room allowing me to walk inside. I'm surprised, as I don't see a room. I do, however, see stairs. “Come on… Elizabeth, is it?” she asks as we begin climbing the spiral staircase. “Eliza,” I correct quickly. “Did you have this all to yourself?” I question. She gasps. “GOD no… all this space for one person… Headmistress Rose would never. There are 4 of us now.” This better be a big room. I'm lucky, because as we reach the end of the stairs, I'm greeted with a beautiful room. Many arched windows line the walls, which I thought would be stone if the damp air of the staircase was any indicator. But, the walls are surprisingly normal, with normal trim. The walls are a light gray, but there is whiteboard paint on all of them, Margo tells me as we walk, so we can write all over them. The room is circular, and in the very center of the room is a conversation pit with oak stairs into it. There is a circular, beige couch, as well as tables and chairs thrown about up outside of the pit, all following the organic theme, with a dark green accent wall here and there. There is another little circular alcove to my left, where a small, green kitchen is. I see a few oak doors scattered about. “Those are the doors to the bedrooms” Margo says when she sees me looking. That's when 2 new faces appear out of one of the doors.
Both of them are girls, they look about 14 or 15. Nevertheless, both girls rush over and plough me over with hugs. To be honest, I'm grateful for it. “IVY!” Margo yells. “Give her some room to breathe,” she says with an exasperated sigh. The smaller girl blushes and tucks a strand of lavender hair away from her face. “Hi, I'm Ivy,” she says tentatively. “Hello, I'm Eliza,” I replied, matching her tone and still very star struck by everything that happened. Margo keeps on going, and we walk around the conversation pit to the door farthest to the right. She opens the door with a flourish, revealing a cozy bedroom with coloured fairy lights strung around, and posters and photos are hanging crookedly on the wall. There is a bed raised about 2 feet off the floor, sitting on a large wooden box. Across from it lies an identical queen bed. It has squishmallows and blankets, as well as a few items I recognised from home. “Headmistress Rose had me scatter some of your stuff around the room and sitting area where it looks like they belong,” Margo says, thinking I’ll turn around and snap at her. But instead I turn gently “Thank you,” I whisper. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and realize that my eyes have watered. “This really means a lot,” I say simply, power behind my words. “Well,” she starts, “you've had a rough start to this semester. I just wanted to make it a little easier.” I smile gratefully, happy I didn't have to decorate my own room. If I had, though, it probably would've looked similar to this. I sit down on the bed covered in blankets I know from years past. This is not quite how I thought this day would go.
The door swings open. The smaller girl, the one with lavender hair, Ivy, walks into the room. “So, Margo, I know it's her first night here, and she isn't exactly ready for an Elias Randall Silvermoon party…” she says, chuckling under her breath. “But you need to go.” Margo rolls her eyes. “No, I don't.” I take a breath because I can't believe what I'm about to say. “Come on. It's my first day, sure, but I'm not broken,” I said, trying not to lose my confidence. “And Margo, you should go. Hell, I want to go,” I finished, convinced I'm going to get turned down. Instead, 20 minutes and a clothing swap later, I'm in the bathroom, putting white eyeliner on and being marched out the door.
After once again being pushed through the halls for at least 15 minutes, we stop before a door. It was small, anyone above about 5 feet would have to duck to avoid hitting their head. “Are you guys sure about this?” I ask tentatively. “Yes, of course they are,” a deeper, but excited voice says behind me. I turn away from the door to meet this face. I was expecting Elias, but I'm greeted with something much better. “Nico.'' I say, my mouth hanging open and my eyes wide. “Eliza.” He was, in fact, interrupted by me running at him for a hug but I didn't realize I was hugging him until I was hugging him with all my might. “Oh my god, I totally forgot you go to school here. You must be a senior now,” I blubber. He laughs while flicking a strand of black hair from his forehead. “I must say, it's nice to see you, little cousin.” The other girl from my dorm, the girl I now know as Violet, with her tight, black dress gapes, “You’re cousins?” 205Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyaykJZJsLA
I laugh quietly. “Well, second cousins, but what does that matter?” I hear Nico hold back a laugh. “So, shall we?” he asks, gesturing to the doorway. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he smiles at me, shaking his head slightly as he pushes me through the door. And yeah, I've been to a highschool party before but nothing, nothing even close to this.205Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4aeTwy9WCE
