Corruption

I drive around for a long time, my chest feeling hollow. I waste what’s left in my tank, stop at a gas station, fill it up again, and continue to move. Eventually, I glance at the clock on my dashboard: 11:04. The scarred man said I had to be at the school by noon, so I better get going. From where I am, only 20 minutes or so away. Soon enough I'm there, partially turned into the driveway, but the iron gate blocks my way.

How the hell am I supposed to get in? I stare at the gate with malice, biting the inside of my cheek. As I stare, I notice the fence shimmer, as if it's not really there. Slowly a thought forms in my mind, startling but logical. If this school is for witches, why not have a magic gate? Deciding to trust my instincts, I ease my foot down on the acceleration. I move forward at a decent speed, but safe in case I'm wrong and need to break. As the front of my Toyota makes contact with the iron, I close my eyes (totally safe while driving, right?) and grit my teeth, waiting for a collision.

It doesn’t come. I open my eyes, and my car is moving smoothly onto the leaf-strewn driveway. The Toyota is half-phased through the gate. Maybe it’s an illusion? I make a mental note to ask later, despite the fact that I’m struggling to remain calm--it’s difficult to wrap my mind around the idea of magic actually existing. I breathe deeply, sliding my panic from my mind. If I’m going to meet a bunch of witches, I refuse to do it while having a mental breakdown.

The driveway is long and the width of just one car, made of smooth concrete, and curving to the left after about twenty-five meters. It’s lined with closely spaced trees, their branches partially covered in autumn leaves, and a dense forest is vaguely visual past them. I turn drive around the bend, and I see another gate ahead of me. After about another twenty-five meters I reach the gate, and a feeling in my gut tells me this one’s real. I stop in front of it, the black bars gleaming. It’s held by an arc of dark bricks, with the words “Elemental Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted” across the top in black, cursive script. To my left and right are brick guard stations with single windows, the station to my right on the other side of the gate. Through the one to my left, I can see a brutal looking man with steely eyes and dark hair. His uniform is a black button-up vest with silver buttons, and underneath is a red dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Over his heart there’s a red crest that I can’t clearly make out. He looks at me suspiciously, but overall appears bored.

“Name?” he asks.

“Aradia H-Hollow,” I say, mentally cursing myself for showing my nerves. I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles going white.

He nods and moves his hand to the wall, and I hear a click. The gate opens soundlessly, glinting in the mid-day sun. I nod at the guard, attempting to look serious instead of nervous, and drive through the open gates. Before me is the school, tall and ominous. It’s built of a mixture of dark and light gray bricks, spanning wide. The lawn is vivid green, with tall trees scattered about. Girls and some guys mill about, sitting and standing in small groups. A long walkway leads to white marble stairs, where doors are to get into the school. To the right of the walkway is a large, black fountain, spurting water merrily. Another walkway coming from the left merges into the main one about halfway down, and on either side of it are similar fountains, but smaller. The school is surrounded by a black brick wall rising about a meter high, with openings to get onto the walkways.

I continue on the driveway, turning left with it. I reach the parking lot and it’s large, three quarters full with parked cars. I pull into an empty space between a Lexus and a Cadillac, gearing my Toyota into park. I glance around me, spotting a Lincoln and other expensive cars. The crappiest car in the parking lot, besides mine, is a twenty-thirteen Volkswagen sedan. I get out of my Toyota and look at it, crossing my arms. I feel self-conscious, surrounded by expensive cars. Sighing, I turn and head toward an opening in the short brick wall.

Once on the walkway I can feel eyes on me, the back on my neck burning with such intensity that I fear a heat stroke. I look around me, eyeing the teenagers clustered around. The girls are wearing uniforms, black and purple plaid skirts, with black vests over white dress shirts. The guys wear black dress shirts, short and long sleeved, and khaki pants. From this far away I can see a glint of silver on their shirts, right over their hearts. A pair of girls standing with a guy catch me looking at them, so I avert my eyes and hurry along the path.

Quickly I reach the steps, and I stare up at the school. It’s huge, with tall windows and made of dark bricks. I breathe deeply and climb the steps to the door, opening it and stepping inside. A short hallway leads into a foyer, with white and black marble floors. A staircase stands before me, with hallways leading to my right and left. I stand for a moment, looking around me with awe.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I turn around, my heart hammering, and see a woman standing there. She has short black hair, partially covered with a white hat, and crystal blue eyes. Her facial features are similar to Hayden’s. She looks around thirty, but if she’s a witch she could be at least another ten years older. She smiles at me, looking sincere.

“Hello,” she says, offering out a hand. “My name is Amelia Everhold.”

I take her hand, attempting to be firm. “I’m Aradia Hollow.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she says matter-of-factly. “You met my daughter, Hayden?”

“I figured, to be honest,” I say.

She smiles again. “I am the Mystic of the Tribe of the Panther’s Elder Coven. I understand that that doesn’t make much sense, based on your Mundane upbringing, but I’m sure you’ll learn quickly.”

I stare at her, totally lost. “Uh...”

“Your roommate will explain the basics, may I show you to the girl’s dormitory?”

“Do I have much of a choice?” I mutter under my breath.



“Yes, dad,” I say into my phone, pacing the small room I now call as my own.

“Will you be visiting at all? This is so strange, out of the blue this amazing private school is accepting you, without an application, with no fees.” my father says, his voice distorted slightly through the phone.

“I’ll visit when I can dad, I’m not a prisoner,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I dunno, I think Harmon High might have recommended me or something.”

“Well be safe Aradia. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, then hang up.

Amelia took me to the dormitory, showed me my room, and left. She told me my roommate would be in soon and that she would explain the basics. Great. I sit on the bed that’s closer to the window and put my head in my hands, overwhelmed. My room is decent sized, with two beds, two nightstands, two small dressers, and a double door closet. There’s also a door I’m guessing leads into a bathroom. I sigh into my hands, fighting off a headache.

“Ah!”

I whip my head up, and in the doorway is a short girl with olive skin. Her hair is a deep mahogany color, and the light brings out tints of a copper red. She looks at me with wide silver eyes, and her lashes are full and dark.

“You must be Arachnia!” she says, and steps into the room. She’s wearing the school uniform, and over her heart is a green pentagram.

“Aradia,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Sorry,” she says, looking sincere. “I’m Illiana Fairchild, but you can call me Lilly. I’m your roommate.”

“Oh, hi,” I say.

She walks to the nightstand next to the bed I’m not on and opens the drawer, revealing clutter. She trifles through it until she finds a piece of paper, trifolded and slightly creased.

“Sorry,” she says as she hands me the paper. “That’s your schedule, I got it this morning but was told not to look at it.”

“Thanks,” I say, and set it on the bed next to me. “It’s a good thing the year just started.”

“Maybe for Mundanes,” she says. “But for witches we’re already halfway through the year. Of course, we’re still on break. We start on the Equinox.”

I look at her dumbfounded. “Okay, I’m lost already.”

She laughs, sitting on her bed. “We have Spring studies and Fall studies. The Spring Studies start on the Spring Equinox, and end roughly before the Summer Solstice. Then we have Summer break until the Fall Equinox, which is the twenty-second. Then, about a week before the Winter Solstice we’re done with the school year and go on Winter break.”

“So we get two breaks? That’s awesome,” I say.

She laughs and stands, wiping invisible dirt from her skirt. “What powers do you have?”

“Uh...” I say, unsure. “Well, I’m not really sure.”

She looks at me expectantly, and I rub my temples.

“Um, I drew a dragon and I think it moved, and I sorta lit Hayden on fire...”

“You did what?!” she says, smiling enthusiastically.

“Made a dragon come to life on paper?” I say, confused.

“No, you lit Hayden on fire? Hayden Everhold?”

“Yeah, accidently,” I say, biting my lip.

“Accidental or not, that’s fantastic! She puts the B in witch,” she says merrily.

“She seemed like it and I only knew her a day. Anyway, if you don’t mind me asking, what powers do you have?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

She smirks, and waves her hand at the open drawer of her nightstand. It slides shut smoothly. I raise my eyebrows, slightly impressed. Then, she waves her hand at the bathroom door and it opens.

“Telekinesis?” I ask, remembering Stephen King’s Carrie.

“Yep, but there’s more,” she says.

In the course of maybe three seconds her image shimmers and then disappears all together, and I gasp. From the corner of my vision I see her shimmer back into existence, inside the bathroom. I stand and turn to look at her, my mouth gaping.

“That’s not all,” she says with a smile.

She turns on the faucet and I move forward, curious and confused. Water rushes from the spout, but then Illiana puts her right hand up. All at once the water stops, and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. Then, she waves her hand and water trickles out slowly, but instead of landing in the sink it twists into the air. Illiana moves her hand in a delicate pattern, like a dancer, and the water moves through the air around my head. With a flick of her left hand the faucet shuts off, and she controls the water to drizzle into the sink and down the drain.

“That’s incredible!” I say with a smile.

“Hydrokinesis. It’s a lot harder than it looks,” she says. “Anyway, you want a tour of the school? And then we can get some lunch.”

“Sounds great,” I say. Maybe witch school won’t be so bad.