Two worlds Collapse
755 Words
The bus smelled like pine trees and nervous sweat.
Irene sat alone near the back, her small brown hands folded tightly in her lap. She kept her eyes on the window, watching trees blur past like green ghosts. Her dark hair was pulled into two simple braids that hung past her shoulders. She wore a plain grey shirt tucked into black trousers that were a little too short for her long legs. Her shoes were clean but old, the left one repaired with glue near the toe.
She did not look like someone important.
She knew that.
Around her, other students laughed loudly and showed off. A girl in a white fur-trimmed jacket was talking about her father's territory. Two boys were arguing about who had the stronger bloodline. A red-haired girl was already making friends, touching everyone's arms and smiling wide.
Irene watched them all quietly.
She had learned a long time ago that quiet was safer than loud. Her parents were not pack leaders. They were not warriors or elders or anyone special. They were just wolves who existed at the edges of the Ashwood Pack. Coming to Moonshadow Academy had not been their idea. It had been a scholarship. A lucky number pulled from a list.
She did not belong here but she was here anyway.
The academy appeared through the trees like something from a dream. Grey stone buildings rose tall against the blue sky. Iron gates opened slowly as the bus rolled through. Students pressed their faces to windows. Even the loud ones went quiet.
Irene pressed her palm flat against the glass.
I am going to survive this, she told herself.
The second bus arrived twenty minutes later.
Lucian stepped off first.
He was tall for seventeen, with broad shoulders and a straight back that made him look older. His skin was the warm brown of river mud in summer. His hair was cut close on the sides and left thick on top, and his jaw was already sharp and serious. He wore a deep navy jacket with a small silver pin on the collar, the Silvercrest crest identity. His boots were polished. His trousers had no wrinkles.
He looked like someone important.
He knew that too.
His two closest friends jumped off the bus behind him, already arguing.
"The east dormitory has better sunlight," said Marcus, who was short and loud and never stopped talking.
"Who cares about sunlight?" said Dara, the only girl in their group. She was lean and sharp-eyed, with natural hair wrapped high on her head. "What matters is which dormitory is closest to the training field."
Lucian said nothing.
He was looking at the academy gates, reading the carved words above them.
KNOWLEDGE IS THE SHARPEST WEAPON.
His father had told him to remember those words. His father had also told him to focus, to build alliances, to be seen with the right people. To remember what the Silvercrest name meant.
But he adjusted his collar, lifted his chin, and walked forward like he was supposed to.
The main hall was enormous.
Students from every pack filled the space, carrying bags and wearing their pack colours. Teachers moved through the crowd with clipboards. A large banner read: WELCOME TO MOONSHADOW ACADEMY — YEAR OF LEARNING.
Irene stood near the wall.
She had already collected her room key and schedule. She held them against her chest and observed the room the way she always did, carefully, quietly, looking for exits, dangers and patterns.
That was when she saw him.
He walked in through the main doors with two friends, and the crowd actually shifted to give him space. Not because anyone pushed them. Just because something about him made people move. He was not shouting or showing off. He was just walking. But he walked like the floor belonged to him.
Irene looked away quickly.
Don't stare at people like that, she told herself. You are not here to stare.
She looked back at her schedule.
Advanced Pack Law. Political History. Survival Strategy. Shared Study Hall — Block C.
She started moving toward the dormitory corridor.
And then she stopped.
Because the boy with the silver pin was also moving toward the dormitory corridor.
And somehow, impossibly, in a hall full of hundreds of students, he glanced directly at her.
Their eyes met for exactly two seconds.
Stranger meeting stranger.
Irene looked away first. Her heart was beating too fast and she did not know why. She walked faster, eyes down, braids swinging.
- Writer
