“Mr. Liliago.” A woman in honestly too high heels for her to walk properly flagged Mikhailo down as soon as he entered the hallway. She was trying to make an impression on someone with her outfit, wearing a tan pencil skirt with matching low cut blouse and black blazer.

“Headmistress.” Mikhailo bowed his head ever so slightly to show due respect to the mundane woman that ran this fine institution. Headmistress Annette Allard came from a long line of human scholar’s who had a mutually beneficial relationship with the Fae, specifically the Seelie Court. Blonde and green eyes with a crystalline blue ring around the iris ran through generations of her lineage, never skipping a single child. Some say for their efforts in the Darkest Night. The Fae gifted them with strong familial resemblances and a pure bloodline; whether it was a Seelie blessing or an Unseelie curse all depends on who you ask. Eventually this bloodline led to what is now known as the Templar Order. Humans who could wield different gifted variations of Seelie magic. At some point, the entire family tree just begins to look like clone variants of one another. Mikhailo personally found it unsettling most days.

“The Council of Magi and the Court of Fae has selected you as our Seelie representative in welcoming the new addition to our school.” She greeted him with a flat smile and a French accent that was as smooth as honey.

“The Court of Fae?” He reiterated.

“You share blood with the throne; if not you, who?” Her eyes were always passing judgment, although her face contained the expressions from showing. Most days she looked dead inside, similar to what one would imagine a living doll to resemble.

Mikhailo let out a heavy sigh, “Yeah.”

The entire day, the school staff prepared for the arrival of the new teacher who would be joining their assembly. Tensions were high and nerves were soaring. Appointed as the representative for the Seelie, Mikhailo would be the first to address the Unseelie. It had been centuries since the Darkest Night—the war between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Both races of Fae had kept their zones separate from one another since then, never cohabiting within the Fae Realm ever again. Mikhailo was lost in thought as he stood within the empty teacher's lounge. Decorated to the brim with Seelie embellishments and frill. It was painfully obvious that they were trying to appear entirely and exuberantly welcoming. Mikhailo could only cringe at the sight as he paced back and forth until his movements were stopped by the creaking of an opening door.

“Professor Liliago, may I introduce you to Ayden.” Before Annette could finish introductions, Mikhailo cut in with a tone of disbelief as he turned around and faced the man who followed the Headmistress into the room.

“Dreddour.” He spoke just above a whisper. 

He was almost the exact opposite of Mikhailo in every way. His skin was quite pale white with an almost grayish-blue undertone, like a corpse. His hair was varying shades of blue-black, slicked back with an undercut. Most of the distinct and identifying features of his facial structure were covered by an onyx mask shaped like a skull, typical of a high-ranking Unseelie of the Court to cover their face. His neck and throat were plastered with inked magical symbols and runes. Occult iconography and depictions scattered across his body. His fingertips down to his first joint permanently stained a blackened, bruising purple from the ichor of the souls of the dead, caused by successfully practicing necromancy. He was wearing a black cotton v-neck shirt with a long silk zebra print black and white dress shirt covered by a dark brown trench coat. Fingers adorned by various rings and wrists littered with bracelets. The most prevalent piece adorning his body was an inverted cross necklace with a symbol of baphomet on it that mocked a rosary; he specifically wore it for no other reason than to make the Templars uneasy.

“You’ve met?” Her eyes momentarily drifted towards the necklace, which was clearly doing its intended job.

“Of course, Mikhailo’s father butchered my mother.” His lavender eyes, which shined with a white ring around the iris, showing his Unseelie heritage, made direct contact with the headmistress' eyes with an intensity that dared her to dishonor him by breaking the gaze. “After he decapitated her in front of my eyes, he then drove the spearhead of his helmet through what remained of her neck and adorned her like an ornament.” As she swallowed hard and her lip subtly quivered, he smiled, “No hard feelings though.” If one were to try to gain insight into his disposition, they would remark him as unreadable.

Annette was speechless.

“As you can see, I am very eager to catch up.” One could almost assuredly mistake his tone for threatening but that would be improper and most assuredly inappropriate under the current circumstances. Tensions were already high and reading into every move was a bad way to play. But Ayden loved games.