A man in a well-ironed and polished suit, with short streaks of grey at his temples, and brushed-up hair with a subtle mix of black and ash-grey, stepped out of the passenger's seat. His face exuded this natural elegance and authoritative confidence as he inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh air emitted by the scenery.
"Ah, the lovely late spring season. What a great day to start!" he announced.
He looked behind him at the young man with jet-black locks brushing across his crimson red eyes, wearing a uniform with the Academy’s seal, still seated inside. A calm expression dominated his features, but with a hint of concern, hesitation, and perhaps a touch of guilt as his fingers fidgeted on his lap.
"Just keep in mind, Raphael," the man standing outside said, voice shifting into a low murmur as he leaned slightly into the open door. "Low key. Just pretend to be like any other student. Don't take advantage of our relations unless it's necessary. Your main goal is to find her, but at the same time, don't forget about your studies."
"This place is different than what you are used to... You are going to be lost in the wilderness if you're not careful," he continued, like a gentle reminder.
Raphael nodded affirmatively, his gaze began admiring the concrete buildings in a variety of storeys, lush green lawns with spring flowers blooming vibrantly along the sides, and the clusters of students from the farther stretch of the brick-lined pathway.
Being homeschooled in his lifetime was a decision made by his family to protect him from the world, as they claimed, preventing him from understanding the world beyond the ornate walls of their estate. Only a handful of companions were approved and scrutinized by his parents to consider his social needs.
The world beyond his textbooks and private tutors was a refreshing scenery. Remotely simple, slightly intimidating visually and aurally.
"You don't have to remind me, Uncle. I promise to be careful," Raphael responded with confidence in his tone.
"Also, don't make any trouble," the older man added, a final, unnecessary piece of advice. "You don't want your parents finding out about this."
"Okay. I won't," Raphael promised, exiting the open vehicle's door and getting a waft of the cool late spring breeze. His hand raised over his head, shielding himself from the slight prickling heat caused by the sun. Usually, he would be indoors under these conditions.
“I’ll catch you later at lunchtime,” he smiled softly before hopping back inside the van, which immediately rolled away out of the scene, leaving him alone at the verge of this exciting chapter in his life.
He began adjusting the strap of his leather sling bag, which held a few notebooks, pens, and his prized keepsake, a slightly faded photograph of a young girl with dark blue hair tied in a low ponytail and olive green eyes peeking through her wide, carefree smile.
He always kept it tucked into a small compartment in the pocket of his bag.
Elena Wallace. His sole purpose in this academy is to find her and learn the truth of her disappearance.
Evanderhill Academy, his uncle's domain, was the only lead.
As he walked through the main entrance, the arched stone design offered a brief shade from the sun, giving him temporary relief. The massive scale of it all brought him that overwhelming feeling.
Groups of students, dressed in the academy's signature navy blue coat and faded blue dress shirt with a dark red tie, and either dark black uniform pants for males or pleated black skirts for females, were scattered all around the scene. Some of them sat on benches, heads gathered in a circle while having an interesting conversation; others rushed along the hallways like a stream of dark waters passing by the riverbank. A strange energy in this chaotic symphony of chortles, shouts, chatters, and the distant ring of a bell.
It felt so... alive. Vastly different from the calming silence of his study room and the constant reminder of hush from his tutors whenever a sound escaped.
Looking around, he finally spotted the signs and followed the direction pointing towards the main administrative building, an intricately designed structure with marble arches lined with slightly moss-covered cobblestones on its walls. Upon entering the premises, cool air blew through his face, followed by a scent of old paper and floor polish.
A woman in her late 40s, wearing round-framed glasses on the end of her pointy nose, glanced up from her computer with a stern look across her face as the young man approached the desk counter.
"Need help?" she asked in a slightly domineering, casual tone.
"I'm Raphael Kiersten," he introduced himself, maintaining his voice steady, as he tried to appear confident. "A new transfer student. I was told to pick up my schedule here for my assigned classroom."
The woman began pressing keys into her computer as her thin-lined eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her eyes squinted.
"Ah, yes. You are the mid-semester transfer. How unusual."
Then, a printed sheet spat out of the printer beside the PC before her hand slid it across the counter.
"Class 2-C," she plainly stated, as if she were not impressed by his designated class. "The second floor, across the hall on the leftmost wing. Your student guide should be waiting for you in the main lobby. Her name is Feyline."
"Thank you," Raphael said as he took the piece of paper.
He scanned through the list of subjects: Advanced Literature, Calculus, World History, Physical Education, and Biology. Pretty much a standard curriculum.
As Raphael turned around to retrace his steps out of the hall, the woman called after him.
"Mr. Kiersten. I have a word of advice." She moved down her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Evanderhill is... a unique environment. Keep your head down. Don't bother standing out unless you are aiming to be a part of class A. Not everyone here is what they seem." As she pulled her glasses back up, her attention was glued back to her screen.
Raphael paused and pondered there for a moment, her words echoing in his ears. Parallel advice that he had heard first from his uncle, but this time coming from a stranger, who witnessed and worked here every day, it felt more evident than surreal. He casually nodded in reply, even though she was no longer paying attention, before heading out towards the main lobby.
The lobby had elevated ceilings with a bright golden chandelier hanging in the middle of the room, and a massive marble fountain sculpture in the form of a maiden pouring water from a vase into the puddle below. Students moved around it, creating a constant current of motion.
He felt lost as students continuously passed by while he tried to traverse through the crowd alone, like a sailboat lost in stormy seas. His vision scanned through the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might resemble the name of Feyline. Seriously, he was given no clue or distinct features of what she looked like, making him a bit frustrated.
Fortunately, it didn't take him long enough.
A figure disengaged itself from a group of girls, gossiping near the grand staircase in the middle of the room, and started heading towards him. She was a stark, vibrant contrast among the sea of plain uniforms. Her dress shirt was hidden underneath a rock band t-shirt with a skull, not the usual uniform as prescribed. Her pleated skirt looked decent except for various accessory chains dangling, and her socks were striped in black and purple. Her vibrant purple hair was tied in a messy ponytail with her bangs cut in a choppy and asymmetrical style adorned by a streak of black highlight running through it.
She exuded an air of defiant confidence.
"You're Raphael?" she asked, stopping in front of him. Her voice was low and a little raspy.
"Yes. You're Feyline?"
"Mhmm. Yours truly," she said, a small, mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Come on, new guy. Let's get to class before the next period comes. Class 2-C. This way."
She turned and walked away, not bothering to see if he was following. Raphael had to quicken his pace to keep up with her as they navigated the crowded hallways thoroughly, Feyline weaving through the throng with grace and confidence that Raphael could only admire. She seemed to know exactly where to go, cruising the flow of students like a seasoned city dweller.
"So, what's your deal?" Feyline asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"Mid-semester transfer? That's practically unheard of. You some kind of troublemaker?"
Raphael shook his head, feeling a flush of red rise to his cheeks. "No, of course not. Just... family circumstances." He tried to keep his answer vague, as instructed.
"Right," she said, her tone dripping with skepticism. "Well, whatever. Just try not to stand out too much. Evanderhill has its own ecosystem, and you don't want to be at the bottom of the food chain."
They arrived in front of a thick, dark oak classroom door with a brass plaque that read "2-C."
Feyline knocked once, then pushed the door open without waiting for a reply. A wave of curiosity followed suit as students turned their attention towards the new figure in the classroom. A portly man standing by the teacher's desk with sleek black hair, holding a textbook in one hand, paused mid-sentence to glance over them.
"Mr. Davies," Feyline said, her voice crisp and professional, a complete opposite to her rebellious appearance. "New student. Raphael Kiersten."
Mr. Davies peered at Raphael over his spectacles. "Ah, yes. Mr. Kiersten. Welcome. We were just discussing the thematic significance of the color green in The Great Gatsby. Please, find a seat."
Raphael's eyes scanned the room.
There was an empty desk in the back corner, next to a window. He made a beeline for it, eager to escape the scrutinizing gazes of his new classmates. He could feel their eyes on him, following closely, whispering to seatmates right next to each other. He quietly slid into the empty chair, the smooth, cool wood of the desk a small comfort in the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Feyline gave him a subtle, almost imperceptible nod before heading on to her seat a few chairs next to him, her duty done.
Raphael was finally alone at his desk. He opened his textbook to the chapter Mr. Davies had indicated, but the words blurred together. He was too wary of the whispers made by the students in front of him and their superstitious glances. He tried to remain focused on the lesson, on the green light at the end of Daisy's dock, a symbol of a seemingly attainable future.
How ironic, he thought. He was searching for a future, too, one entangled in the past.
As the lecture continued, a piece of paper flung onto his desk. He looked up to see a guy with a mischievous grin, wiggly eyebrows, and dark, curly hair leaning across the aisle from the seat in front of him.
"Hey, new guy," the boy whispered, not even trying to be discreet. "Name's Antonio. The one and only. You missed out on all the good stuff. The school year is half over, my friend. You've got some catching up to do."
Raphael just nodded, unsure of how to respond.
"I can't wait to share you interesting things here in school!" he excitedly blurted out.
"I can be your oracle of information, like a school history book, facilities and equipment map, food safety officer in the cafeteria, and introduction to your new teachers and subjects!"
Antonio just continued to blabber constantly like a truckload of information dumped without breaks.
Raphael seemed to be overwhelmed by his personality until the guy beside him turned around to smack Antonio's head with a notebook in a friendly manner, eventually stopping him from his nonsensical blabbers.
"Mr. Davies is still here, you idiot." He quietly reminded him that there is still a teacher in front, discussing the topic.
"Okay, Alexis. You don't have to be so brutal." Antonio whined in return.
Alexis apologetically bowed his head towards Raphael, apologizing on behalf of his friend before resuming to jot down notes and listening to the teacher.
Raphael was relieved, but it was also a sudden shift in events for him. He looked at Antonio, rubbing the back of his head, apparently still complaining about the smack. Alexis warned of getting another one, but he just laughed it off with a goofy grin.
He looked at the window, watching the leaves fall from the trees.
Thinking deeply about his own thoughts, this academy is indeed a jungle, like what his uncle and the woman from the administration said.
He felt a pang of loneliness, a longing for the familiar comfort of his home. But then he remembered why he was here. He had to find her.
He needed to know why she left him.
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