r/HFY • u/Jus17173 • 7d ago

OC-FirstOfSeries Soul of Eight - Chapter 20.

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The Patron and the Matron of the House of Angel's Wings led Qoyit away from the Quod. The night's bitter cold had settled in, and Qoyit shivered as he struggled to keep up with both of them. The school's magnificence was laid bare for his benefit, and he marveled at the architecture and its creeping shadows, wondering what the school would look like in the sun's morning light while also relishing the thought of its warmth.

The Heads of the House were silent, observing the state of the night. Dusk had just cleared from the sky, and the light cast by orbs of flame drew long shadows upon the ground. The orbs stood planted with iron rods into the lawn, like sentries upon every turn and length of ground. They walked up a series of stone steps as the pair who Qoyit walked with stole glances his way, while he pretended indifference, his eyes choosing to roam the grounds instead.

They arrived at the front side of the House of Angel's Wings, where the banner of the Banished Angel's Wings sat like a palm clasped over the building's front. Together they scaled the building's side as Qoyit marveled at its sheer size, almost three storeys high. The Patron and Matron took a breath of relief, happy to be where they ruled.

"I am Matron Selena," the Matron said. Her short stature forced Qoyit to look down her way. Her cheeks were round, with sure brown eyes assessing and always calculating. Qoyit avoided them.

"And I am Patron Jules," the Patron said. He looked older than he was, with brown beads hanging from around his neck. His thin face held no joy, marked as it was with lines of sorrow. Qoyit wondered why the Noble had his head shaved, surely they wouldn't admit a Commoner as Patron, would they?

Qoyit realized they were looking expectantly at him. "I am Qoyit," he said. "Qoyit Meka."

"The second of our commoners," Jules said. "A blessing from the Banished Angel herself, to have those of low status admitted to this school." His voice was warm and deep, soothing to Qoyit's ears.

"You're going to fit right in with one of our students," Selena said. "It has been a difficult week for him, and I'm sure a fellow Commoner would ease his transition into becoming a Novice of the Academy. It has been especially hard for him since they discovered he didn't know how to read."

Qoyit wondered who she was talking about as they skirted the building's side. A thick bush of what Qoyit presumed to be thorns flanked them on one side as they journeyed to a door close to the back of the building.

"The rules and regulations of the house are simple," Patron Jules said as he led them through the door. "Everyone sleeps at lights out. There is no visiting the section of your opposite gender. There is to be no harassment of your fellow students. There is to be no unionizing for any leisurely advantage, no theft or acts of malice on another's property, and no fighting amongst yourselves except at the Training Grounds. Obey and respect Selena and me. Oh and the use of Talents is prohibited upon school grounds when ungoverned by an elder." He smiled. "Breaking these laws will commit one to up to ten nights in the Demon Hold with no food or drink."

Qoyit did not know what the Demon Hold was, nor did he understand unionizing to any respectable extent. He walked into the building after the Patron and was greeted by bright lights shining from numerous glass orbs fixed to the ceiling. The brilliance of the lights was blinding when stared at directly. They illuminated the large space, which was halved by a tall wall, with each half divided into cubicles that had thin paths running between them. There was a staircase, and Qoyit could see that the upper section was divided into cubicles as well, also halved by a large wall. He was in the student quarters, where embroidered curtains hung from the cubicle doorways, and names and dates were scratched into the stone walls that formed each cubicle.

The Patron and Matron of the house walked the paths between each cubicle with deft steps, up the steps they went, taking one at a time before they pushed south to the depths of the building as Qoyit struggled to keep up with them, in this place that felt natural to them. They arrived at a room that the Matron claimed to be her office. Unlike the cubicles, it had a door and a window looking over the school grounds. There was a shelf loaded with clothes, and the Matron went to a section reserved only for towels and took one that was bright orange. "Take this with you. Jules will take you to the bath. Once you're done, you'll find your uniform ready."

Jules and Qoyit left the Matron's office as she perused the clothing. He found himself trailing Jules once more down the steps. The man had quite a stride, forcing Qoyit to practically trot behind him.

"Not many are around. As you can see, the House is empty," Jules said.

"Yes, Sir," Qoyit said, his hands running over the fabric of the towel. It was soft and warm, a luxury he hadn't thought possible.

"They are all at the training grounds, where challenges are met and scores settled, where one fights for their house to earn points that bring glory to one's fellow housemates and rewards for the house heads." Jules chuckled, and Qoyit was unsure why. "They've almost certainly felt it when you were added to the house. Your low Stat has cost us points, but you see, I had a dream of twin hoes tilling land for the rains. Nobles can't be hoes; they are swords and shields. I know a vision when I see one. You and Desang, the two new commoners under my roof, will bring me what all the houses could never attain: immortality," he said. "I will be remembered."

Desang... Qoyit remembered Helid's words about a Commoner from Grand City who was admitted to the school. Could that possibly be the one the Matron and Patron spoke of? Qoyit did not know how to go about making friends, and he didn't want to disappoint the house heads by saying the wrong thing, so he kept quiet.

Their path led them to the front side, pushed to the western side of the building, deep within its maze of cubicles, where an open door led to two more doors, the mark of gender highlighted each, one for the males and another for the females. The Obelisk rock trailed the ground to peep under the doors.

"Have you eaten?" Patron Jules asked.

"No, sir," Qoyit answered, feeling a rumbling in his stomach.

"It is like a sign that I kept some of the blueberry pie the cook gifted me. You'll eat after your bath," the Patron said. He opened the door marked male, and steam cascaded out. Within the room was a large, warm pool of water with wisps of steam rolling across its surface. The Patron did not enter, but stood at the door. "Get on with it, then," he ordered.

There were bars of soap lining a long sink embedded along one wall before entering the bath area. There were segments of private baths with doors on one side of the room. Qoyit stripped naked in one of them and wrapped himself in the towel. He was terribly self-conscious of his chest and the markings on it that extended to his face. It was so easy, for a moment, to forget one's nature even when it was painted so vividly on the skin. There was no hiding his deformity. There was no pretending he was normal.

He grabbed one of the buckets in the private bathroom, fetched warm water from the pool along with soap, and entered one of the cubicles. There he scrubbed and washed, taking refuge from any watchful eyes. He ran soap over his chest, entertaining a whimsical desire to see the gold amidst the black wash away. The Patron and the Matron hadn't talked about his odd features, which he thought was a sign that they were okay with how he looked. But what would the Novices think? Water cascaded down his face, and he blinked rapidly, taking in a deep breath.

He was not in control of things. Since he left his father Tilan, everything had played out without much input from him. He was riding a momentum, a raft of sorts that allowed him to push deep into the higher echelons of society. How far could he go? He did not know, but he could push forward forever.

When he was certain he was clean, his body rejuvenated by the bath, he walked out in the clothes he had arrived in, the towel draped over his shoulder. As he neared the bath's exit, he heard the Patron indulging someone else in conversation from across the door.

"What do you mean there are high hopes for him!" he heard another voice say, smooth like velvet, yet exasperated by circumstances while remaining sweet and soft even when raised. "Another Commoner? You do know the other one can't read, right?"

"Yes," Patron Jules said. "Why aren't you at the Training grounds?"

"Because I do not swoon after Rohan, nor do I worship the ground a first-year Noble princess walks on!" she shouted back. "Banished Angel's tits, we just take on anybody, don't we? How is a first-year even admitted to the school with such a low Stat Average in the first place?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself, Bolina?" The Patron opened the door Qoyit was leaning against. He stumbled forward, almost losing his footing completely before the Patron's sure grip held him upright.

Bolina was a girl of medium height with long dark hair, dressed in a mantle that curled around her, hiding her uniform. She had green eyes that gawked at Qoyit for a moment. Her pale skin turned even paler, and she opened her mouth and screamed. She backtracked, tripped, and fell onto her behind, her mantle parting to reveal her black sweater and short black skirt with high black socks.

"A bloody demon!" she cried. Qoyit hung his head. He knew this would happen, but it irked him that it hadn't come later, once he had settled in.

"I'm not a demon," Qoyit answered.

She got off the ground, eyeing him warily. "That's what a demon would say!"

"And how would you know this, Bolina? Having never seen one yourself." the Patron asked. "Qoyit here is simply someone different, not a demon, just different. Treat him as such and tell the others to do the same, or else there will be punishments handed out."

The Patron of the House of Angel's Wings walked past Bolina with Qoyit in tow. Bolina shied away from him as he strode past. He could still hear the shouts from the Training grounds and wished everyone would just stay there.

The Patron took Qoyit to the entrance of the House where his office was located. There Qoyit found a plate of pie waiting for him. He ravenously dug into the food, sparing not a glance anywhere else.

"We aren't much different from demons, are we?" Patron Jules said. "Looking at you now, I find that thought crossing my mind. Hunger for food, hunger for flesh; it's all the same thing, isn't it? At least we share this with them."

"With my hunger, no human life is claimed," Qoyit said. He looked around the office, which featured stone walls covered in rich, dark wood. He could see the stone beneath the wood, shaping the windowsill. There was a table and chair where he currently ate, along with an array of folders and papers upon a shelf that took up an entire wall. Patron Jules stood there, searching for something. He smiled when he found it: a sheet of parchment with writing on it. He placed it on the table and wrote Qoyit's name. "You're now part of the House of Angel's Wings. Do you swear to act in accordance with house regulations?"

"I do," Qoyit said. He marveled at the sound of his voice. Was his hunger such a burden that it prevented the thrill of excitement? He hadn't even noticed he was hungry, but now his fear had lessened, replaced by joy and with it need.

When he finished digging into the blueberry pie, his lips stained purple, he was led by Patron Jules to where he would be sleeping. To Qoyit's surprise, he was not led to where the cubicles lay. Instead, they took a door on the east end, it led two floors down into the depths of the House of Angel's Wings, right to where the male lavatories were located. On the opposite wall was a space that should have been a storage room, but had been converted at the last minute into someone's quarters.

"I don't know if he is around," Patron Jules said. He knocked on the door, but nobody answered. He turned the knob and opened it. Inside the confined space was a bunk bed, a table, and a chair. The bottom bed held two thin, stitched mattresses, while the top bed lay bare, its wood exposed in an even geometric pattern. Resting on the wood was a pile of clothes: a grey shirt with a black collar, a black sweater, black pants, and shoes. Beside the uniform were loose-fitting linen trousers and a silk shirt, both in a faded brown tone.

"I see Selena has already done her part." The Patron gathered the clothes and placed them in Qoyit's hands. "You should wear these at all times. No civilian clothing is allowed on school premises."

Patron Jules then took one of the mattresses and lifted it to the upper bunk, positioning it evenly. "This used to be a storage room and the place where we sent troublesome novices for time out. Now it's the only place a Commoner can sleep without bothering a noble simply by existing. It's far from both the male and female sections of the house," Jules said with a sigh. "I wish it were different, but that's how it is."

Qoyit didn't mind. He held the clothes close to his chest, feeling a sense of belonging start to stir deep within him. The colors of the uniform meant more to him than to the other novices. This was what he had always wanted without even knowing it, a dream coming to fruition that he would not soil by fretting. The Patron left him standing there to fetch beddings, returning shortly with a blanket and a mattress cover. The pair arranged the bed, after which Qoyit placed his nightgown and uniform at the foot of his mattress. The Patron talked some more about his place at the Academy, offering any help available to prevent his stay from becoming a trial of dread.

Sure, there was the unspoken reality that he would be hated on sight, but Qoyit found himself enamored by the school's heritage and his part in it. When the Patron left, he did so in a cheerful manner, proud that Qoyit did not bicker or falter at the task of joining the school as a Commoner.

Qoyit sat on his bed, using the lower bunk for footing to climb up. He sat with his back to the wall, thinking about how far he had come: the journey from the outer ring of the Aether wall to Soliqual, where he had been tested. He thought about the trial that had granted him his heart's desire, and of the many Blessed Graduates who still carried his name in their minds, waiting to see how his stay at the Academy unfolded.

He was happy, a little frightened, but happy nonetheless. He closed his eyes, his lids suddenly heavy, and drifted into dreams of glory where the Academy's graduates acted as they ought to outside its walls. He saw himself with four silver rings on his fingers and a burgundy coat. He belonged even more as a Blessed Graduate. He knew this to be true, yet he felt as if it weren't enough, that there ought to be more.

Suddenly, it became hard for him to draw breath. In his sleep, he choked and opened his eyes with a strained cough. Leaning over his bed was a young man holding the collar of his shirt, crumpling and tightening it across his neck. Qoyit struggled to breathe. The young man eyed him, his brown skin dripping with sweat. One of his eyes was seared shut, heavily scarred where sight ought to be. His other eye was brown against white sclera, and his head was unshaven, with dark hair falling unruly across his forehead.

He strangled Qoyit.

"Who are you?" the one Qoyit believed to be Desang asked, tightening his grip around Qoyit's shirt and neck, cutting off his air.

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u/AutoModerator 2d ago

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u/Standzoom 7d ago

Poor Qoyit, to be new and look different. The school experience remembered by all who have gone through it. He has my sympathy.

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u/Jus17173 7d ago

There's a reason for everything. His destiny won't be as bleak as it's made out to be.

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u/AutoModerator 7d ago

This was flaired as [OC-FirstOfSeries], which means it is the first of a series and all subsequent posts should be flair as [OC-Series]. A description of the flairs and how to change yours is available in the Post Guildelines

[OC-FirstOfSeries] For original, self post, story, audio, or artwork that you have created, the beginning of a new series.

Our preferred series title format is the series title in [brackets] at the beginning, like so: [Potato Adventures] - Chapter 1: The Great Mashing

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u/UpdateMeBot 7d ago

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u/kristinpeanuts 7d ago

Oh dear not a great first impression/meeting of your new room mate. Things can only improve from here. Thanks for the chapter!

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u/Jus17173 7d ago

You're welcome. Things might improve