One
FRANCES
The auditorium buzzed with the anxious chatter of over five hundred paranormal teenage creatures waiting for the speeches of elite monsters, and then our first night of school to begin.
Loralie and Tsukiko sat on either side of me. My two best friends wore bored expressions as they slouched in their seats, but I could see the nervousness in the way they clenched their jaws and narrowed their eyes at anyone who looked our way.
I repressed a smirk that threatened to surface.
They were both frustrated at having their grandfathers give speeches to the entire Academy and knowing that, like every year, their doting grandfathers would point them out.
“Stop smirking,” Tsukiko grumbled, her amber eyes narrowing, her wolfen ears flat to her head, and her tail swishing behind her.
“I’m not smirking,” I lied.
Loralie rolled her eyes. “You always smirk before the speeches because you know we hate them.”
“You only hate getting singled out,” I corrected her.
“Well, you’re about to experience it yourself,” Tsukiko said, a slight tilt to one side of her lips betraying her amusement.
My eyes narrowed now. “What do you mean?”
At the front of the large auditorium, on the large stage, a woman in flowing robes smacked her staff on the ground. The boom echoed, and as the sound of it faded, so did the conversation of the students.
“Welcome. For many of you, this is your first year as a high schooler, and your first year at the Northern Territory Academy. We welcome you into our fold and look forward to seeing your academic progress,” she said, smiling brightly.
Warmth radiated from her and eased the tension in everyone’s shoulders.
Magic.
Like most of the other students, we had gone to the elementary academy for kindergarten through eighth grade. Now that we were in ninth grade, we had been moved to the high school academy. They felt it was better for the development of our minds and social skills to separate us in such a way.
My dad thought it was stupid and we should just have one big school together.
Mom said it was likely due to budgeting and security issues.
I could understand the security issues. As we grew older, the possibility of damaging and seriously harming one another grew quickly. Just an hour ago, I had seen one student toss another into the stone wall, knocking a huge dent in it and causing several stones to fall out.
A witch had gone and reversed the damage, but that was just one incident. If there was a large fight, it might not be cleaned up so easily.
I wished we could combine schools with the other territories, but they claimed there were too many of us and that keeping us separated by territory was easier.
“For those who do not know, I am Headmistress Selene Gonzalez, leader of the Black Cauldron Witches. There are many teachers on staff this year, including some new ones, but first, let’s hear from one of our esteemed Council Members, Albus Reaper.” She clapped her hands as she stepped away from the podium, and we clapped with her.
Floating up to the stage in full reaper regalia, including the long, black cape, and carrying his scythe, Loralie’s grandfather stepped up to the podium. With a flourish, he flipped back his hood, revealing his smiling face. “Good morning, students!” He yelled.
Loralie groaned.
“Good morning, Council member!” Every student responded.
“This is going to be a great year here at Monster Academy, I can just feel it!” He said with a bright smile. He looked around the room until his eyes landed on Loralie who tried to sink farther in her seat. “My granddaughter is here for her first year, so I’d appreciate you all helping her when you can. She’s a good girl, but can sometimes be a bit thick-headed.” Albus leaned forward and whispered, “She gets that from her father.” He straightened and waved at Loralie. “Wave, dear.”
Loralie groaned, but raised her hand and gave a single wave before putting her hands in her armpits.
“Remember, to succeed, we must stick together. Through death and after!” he yelled.
“Through death and after,” Loralie muttered. It was their family motto and one she was required to repeat if another member said it.
Headmistress Gonzalez returned to the podium. “Thank you, Council member. Now, for our next speaker, we have Council member Kenta Okami!” She clapped her hands again and we clapped, too.
Stalking across the stage in his half-wolf, half-man form, Tsukiko’s grandfather looked downright terrifying. Once at the podium, he turned and faced the crowd, his lips pulling back into a snarl. Then, he let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth and he yipped loudly.
Tsukiko groaned and put her face in her hands.
With a few bone popping snaps echoing around the room, Kenta shifted his head into his human one. “Good morning, students!” he yelled, his tail wagging behind him.
“Good morning, Council member,” we replied, but there were a few snickering students behind us.
“Dammit. Dammit. Dammit,” Tsukiko muttered.
“This year you will be put under a lot of stress, but you need to remember to have fun as well as work hard. Just look at my granddaughter, Tsukiko, and her best friends, Loralie and Frances, if you need to find monsters who are great at balancing working hard and playing hard. Girls! Raise your hands!”
Flies on feces!
The three of us hesitated too long, and Kenta snapped his teeth.
Our hands shot into the air, and we swallowed hard.
He might have looked sweet standing in front of the crowd, but he could be absolutely terrifying, and he did not hold back when he punished you.
He smiled. “There they are. Now, I want you all to remember to play hard and work hard in equal measures, okay?”
“Yes, Council member!” Every student replied.
“Must be nice to be an elite,” a voice said from somewhere behind us.
“I bet they don’t work nearly as hard as the rest of us,” another person said.
Tsukiko growled, and Loralie started seeping black smoke.
I set a hand on each of them. “Ignore the idiots. We all know the truth.”
Although we had dealt with these same things in the past, we all knew high school would be different.
“Sheep,” Tsukiko snarled. “They’re all sheep who can’t think for themselves.”
There was no point in arguing with her or trying to convince her not everyone was bad. She would growl for a bit, but once we got into the classes, she would calm down.
“Why did I get lumped in with you this time?” I asked. “Did you convince Kenta to do that?”
Tsukiko gave me a look conveying how stupid I sounded. “You think I can convince Grandfather to do anything?”
I sighed. “Right.” Kenta was known for being super opinionated and not changing his mind once it was made up.
A couple teachers gave speeches, but a fiery head drew my attention, dulling out the sound of everything else.
Two rows in front of us, seven chairs to the left, sat Dante. His hair, literally made of fire, wafted in the breeze, but mainly stayed in the style he picked. He controlled the fire, so he could turn the flames into any style he wanted. One time last year, he’d made it a Mohawk. It looked really cool.
“You’re drooling,” Loralie whispered in my ear.