Their pumpkin carriage was being driven by a piper called Qurich. He was much more genial and quieter than their last rider, Surlich. The air felt chillier when there weren't a lot of students in the carriages. Malik and Circe didn't utter a word to each other, which made the ride a lot more bearable for Circe. He was still boiling inside but in a more muted and modulated manner. The horses stopped in front of the Grand Pavillion and Circe and Malik quietly egressed out of the carriages. The two boys split ways as they made their way toward their Centers.
There were still a bunch of students still strolling about, casually talking to each other into the night. Circe was about to enter the Monster Center when he noticed a group of first years rush by him, surreptitiously whispering to each other. He recognized some of the faces from the Avaluation. What were they doing heading toward the Sorcerer's Center? Circe, eerily intrigued followed the young group of kids in the strange direction. They arrived at the statue of a hooded man holding an eye in the palm of his hands.
"There it is! See, I told you it's still there," said the curly-haired boy pointing at the shadowy chamber door beneath the statue.
"And it's open," another first year boy added. "We should go in."
"No! We might get expelled. Or worse, killed."
"Good point." And the close knit group of boys left the ominous statue and headed back into their RCS House. Circe peered down at the forbidden golden chamber door underneath the statue. His heart started to throb as he inched himself closer to it. Something inside of him itched to see what was behind that door. Whatever it was, it would be better than having to go to sleep. Who had bothered to leave the door open anyway and not even close it? What if he was caught? Surely they would expel him this time.
Circe was swallowed in darkness as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the golden door, After a few minutes of walking blind, the torches burst to life licking the forbidden black air. There were a lot of strange objects in the room, Circe noticed, such as a golden elephant, a panoply of golden mirrors, and tons of boars heads that hung from the ceiling. It was as if he was walking into a maze of horrifying objects. What nearly got him to bail was the figure of a naked woman with frizzly hair jumping out in front of him. The woman was oddly shiny, as if she was made of wax. But before Circe could touch her, she ran away into the cold gloom of the chamber cackling.
"What the hell is this place?" Circe whispered.
He suddenly came upon a tall, imposing mirror. But the anomaly about it was that the glass wasn't silver or reflective, it was ink black. As if it were made of tar. Circe reached out to touch it, but it clung to his hands like glue. He tried to tug back but it kept growing. Besieged with fear, Circe tried to run, but it was too late.
"Let me go. Let me go!" But the mirror had already swallowed the boy into its inky depths.
Circe hit the ground on his butt. He was sitting on the cold grass in front of the Grand Pavillion. The faint hooting of owls escaped the air. It was around midnight, everyone was already dead asleep. Or so they appeared to be. Something about this world didn't feel right to Circe, as if he didn't belong there.
Circe saw a thin knobbly blonde boy walk by him. Tears dripped onto the grass. He was weeping, afraid, and alone. Aroused by curiosity Circe stumbled after him. They skirted around the massive structure of the Grand Pavillion and arrived at the Monster Center. Only it wasn't just the clocked bricked building they were staring at. They had arrived at a conjugation of hooded dressed in blood red cloaks. A stone circle had been formed and in that stone circle, a wooden cross had been erected behind a strong passionate bonfire. Hung upside down on that cross, was a thirteen year old girl with a strange star painted on her belly in red.
"The Star of Amyclist," Circe gasped. The young blonde boy didn't seem to have heard him. But what could they possibly be thinking of summoning, thought Circe. They couldn't really be summoning…
"It is with great honor that the council of the Formidables offer this young virgin body to Beelzebub, prince of demons, and his worthy delegations as a testament of our undying loyalty and a token of grattitude for his protection," said a dark grating voice.
The young girl was weeping, pleading through her screams. "Please don't do this, professor. Please!"
"Carry on with it Zenithclad! The delegations of evil wait for no man," said a more tenuous silky voice.
"Hold your tongue, Raufman, it seems we may be imbued in the company of a child," said another cloaked figure. Circe couldn't believe his eyes. He recognized those elfish ears that were poking out.
"Chimer!" Zenithclad spun around and held out his hand forcefully. The young blonde boy was magnetically pushed to him as if by gravity. "What are you doing here? Answer truthfully or we shall have to kill you tonight as well."
Circe paused for a moment. Staring studiously at the young blond boy. "Dad?" he whispered, stepping closely into the bright fire.
"I-I-Nobody wants to talk to me," said Halvorok Chimer.
"And you felt this was the time to interrupt the Dean on trivialities such as this?" Raufman snarled. "Scurry along you silly boy, we have a school to protect."
Zenithclad gave Halvorok a mingled look of fury and pity. His reluctance to act on the boy was implicit. Halvorok flicked his gaze at the girl on the cross. "Why are you doing that? She's innocent."
"It has nothing to do with innocence or morality, Havorak," said Zenithclad. Then he sighed and took off his blood red hood. The enigmatic man had a long dark curly beard, red craters sprayed on his face, a golden ring on his nose, and a face that sort of resembled a half human and half bull. His most outstanding features were the long bull horns that protruded from his forehead. Circe would've fainted if he hadn't already met Elven.
"It has to do with the fact that we signed a blood pact with Lucifer many years ago to protect this school and its students from monsters. In return, we would have to pay allegiance to him by sacrificing one of our younger students, mainly females."
"But…that defeats the whole point doesn't it?"
"It's one in exchange for many Havorok. Now, observe."
Zenithclad went up to the cross and slit the girl's necks. Then he cut her stomach open until it split open her bladder and vagina. The blood gushed out and the star on her belly glowed. Before Circe could process it all, the body had disappeared.
"You're sick!" said Havorok. The hooded crew laughed.
"Life's sick, Chimer, the sooner you realize that the easier life for you will be one day. You say you have no friends, but I refuse to believe that. Find people who tolerate you and want to be with you. Find your own people instead of waiting for people to come to you. I believe in you, Chimer, you're not a monster. None of us are, it's just the circumstances in life that allow people to perceive us as monsters."
"But what if I really am a monster? What if we all are?"
"I refuse to believe that."
"But you just killed a girl in cold blood," said Havorok, skeptical. Something about this man didn't seem to add up.
"Because I had to. It's time you went to bed."
"And I believe it's time you went to bed as well, Circe," said a thunderous voice in the sky. Circe shook his head and found himself in the inky space again. He was pulled out by a strong grip and soon found himself back in the chamber. Standing in front of him was the bull faced figure of Zenithclad. He stared at him for a moment.
"What were you doing in the Black Mirror?"
"I got lost professor, sorry," said Circe.
"Lost, in here? In the Hall of Mysteries?" said Zenithclad.
Circe's face flushed. "Yes."
Zenithclad sighed. "Always the troublemaker, just like your father. Very well then, you may go."
Circe turned around to leave but then froze. "Professor, did my father ever make any friends? Like, did people ever like him."
Zenithclad stared at him for a moment, a shadow of thought cut through his face. Circe got the feeling that he was thinking exactly the same thing he was thinking.
"No Circe, I'm afraid he Havorok never made many companions. It hurts me to say this, but your father took a dark path in his later years."
"Oh," said Circe. He was suddenly interested in tracing the lines on the ground.
"He was just like me. No one ever like me when I was a child. Not even my siblings. In fact, my sister got so jealous of my accomplishments that she cursed me into a half bull. I've never really recovered since."
"Really?"
Zenithclad nodded.
"Do you still talk to your sister?"
"No. But she remains one of the main benefactors as to why my life took the dark path that it did. I never wanted the same for your father. And I'll do my damned best to not let you turn out that way as well."
Circe nodded. "Do you still do sacrifices, Professor?"
Zenithclad stared. A beastly glint shined out of his dark pupils. "I think it's time you went to bed."
Zenithclad led him out of the Hall of Mysteries and into his dorm room inside the Monster Center. There was a clean bunk bed and several posters hung on the wall. Zebulon was sitting at the bottom bunk, shocked to see the knobbly kneed white-haired boy.
"Where were you? I thought for sure, they had expelled you."
Circe relayed to him the events that occurred at the Hall of Mysteries.
"Damn, that's freaky," said Zebulon.
"Tell me about it."
"Do you think you'll end up like your father?"
Circe yawned and got onto his top bunk to finally rest his head. "I hope not."
But then again, with time, it was very difficult to tell.
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