The Golden Lycans

My dad's Tesla turns smoothly off the motorway, our surroundings quickly becoming more rural. Open fields, trees upon trees and neat hedges become a pleasant green blur outside my window. It feels like we are going too fast. The roads are so narrow in comparison to the roads I am used to, with more hills and blind corners than I can comfortably believe. Lucky for me, these are roads my dad once knew well, leaving me in only mild peril. Another sharp turn reveals another expanse of rolling green hills and acres of trees under the sunny September sky. It is stunning. This is definitely the most green I've seen in years, and something in me is brightening more and more as we near our destination. So. Before I go any further, I should probably introduce myself, because these roads we are driving down are unwittingly leading me to a world I could never have imagined, and a future I would never have believed. My name is Eliana Reva, but I much prefer to be called Ella. Eliana sounds too close to being a character from a Lord of the Rings book, and regardless of my love for those books, I am not an elven princess. Perhaps the hair... But ultimately, the name feels too grand for me. As Ella, I tend to fly under the radar more, and as a walking textbook definition of an introvert, that's all I've ever really wanted when I've been at school. For years, I have attended boarding schools in London, where I currently reside with my parents. My parents mainly work in the city, but as human rights lawyers, their jobs take them to every corner of the globe. When I was much younger, we used to live in a small village in the county of Hampshire along the south coast of England - the county we are currently speeding through. It wasn't long before my parents relocated us to London because of their careers. London has been an incredible place to live and I am very fond of it. A teenager could never be bored in London, as there is always something to do. But as I got older, it felt more and more like something was missing. I felt off balance, like I wasn't where I was supposed to be. I felt unsettled. Truly, it was hard to put the feeling into words. Somehow, during the last year, I have grown tired of the hustle and bustle of the city, the noise, the endless pavements and the daily chaos of the London Underground. I want to be somewhere more rural. Scratch that, I needed to be somewhere more rural; I felt like I was being called back to where I was born. I began to feel suffocated in the city and, after a few candid conversations with my parents, I made the decision to return to my home county in the countryside. It started to consume me. I just kept dreaming of green fields, lush grass, huge willow trees, plumes of purple flowers and all sorts of wildlife. It was time to say goodbye to London and experience something different; during term time, at least. My parents were more than happy for me to make the change, because my happiness is of great importance to them — the perk of being an only child. I looked at numerous boarding schools, but one school kept snagging my attention and drawing me back to it. Exton College. I kept coming back to its navy and gold website, featuring an assortment of various beautiful people on its front page just like the other schools did. But the people on the front page of theirs looked alive in a way no others did. Happy. Engaged. Like they were finding their purpose and who they were going to be. I wanted to be one of those happy people. Their marketing has done its job, because that is exactly where we are headed right now. In addition to the wildly happy, beautiful people, it has an excellent reputation for sciences, and that is important to someone who wants to study medicine after sixth form has ended. I have always valued life and I want to make a difference to others with mine. I work hard and have excellent grades — though this has been very counterproductive to my flimsy attempts at having a social life. I had maybe one actual friend at my old school and we haven't even kept in touch during the summer. All in all, I am nervous but ultimately excited to start fresh somewhere else. A clean slate. Not that clean is anything I need. I led a fairly boring life at my last school. Apparently, the days of me having a boring life have abruptly run out, because this isn't a boring story, not by a long shot. If anything, the next two weeks — and certainly the next six months — well... there is no way I could have predicted anything that lies ahead for me as I innocently sit in the passenger seat of my dad's car. "Two minutes away, sweetheart," Dad says quietly, checking the sat nav on the dashboard. With a deep breath, I sit up a little more in my seat. Anticipation is definitely setting in as my dad turns the car through a large and imposing set of wrought-iron gates. Beyond them is a long driveway lined with immaculate poplar trees. Even the driveway here has managed to look posh. I vaguely remember the photos of the school on the website, but it looks more impressive in person. The school looks very well maintained, to say the least. We slowly pass a large navy-coloured sign which reads 'Welcome to Exton College'; its ivy and wolf's head emblem shines in gold. 'Headmaster: Orion Landry' it says in a smaller font underneath. I remember the brief about the school that the headmaster had written for the school's website, and I recall the photo of him. He had given me serious Dumbledore vibes, but I couldn't decide if it was the foot-long white beard he had or his kind, startling green eyes. I could almost imagine the wisdom behind them as he smiled from the About Us section of the website. He looked too old to be running a school, yet somehow exactly old enough. I couldn't argue that he looked like what I'd expect from the headmaster of a very distinguished boarding school. Dad pulls the car into an unmarked parking spot in a large gravelled visitor car park. "Well, Els, this is it," he says, letting out a long whistle as he cranes his neck to look through the windscreen. The vast building rises tall and magnificent in front of us. "This looks radically different to my last school, that's for sure," I comment quietly. My last school could only have been described as a grey concrete box. The only source of life had been one solitary yew tree in the main courtyard, adorned with decades' worth of carvings from students who had come and gone. I get out of the car, keen to stretch my legs after the long journey. I hold my hand up to shield my eyes as I fully take in the building before me. A grand, red-and-beige-brick building stands before us. It has four main turrets around the front section, and the tall Georgian windows make it look very distinguished. A large set of thick oak doors sits proudly in the middle of the main building, flanked by pure white marble pillars. Ivy has snaked its way up the walls all around the building and around the large arched windows in particular, which adds to the grand mystique of the place. Back in London, my schools were in a variety of different buildings separated by entire roads, and nothing living snaked its way up the walls. Dad opens the boot of the car and pulls out my large suitcase while I fumble around in my satchel for the bundle of paperwork I had been sent. We ascend the steps and enter the school through the large oak doors, finding ourselves in a grand atrium. I gasp. I wish I hadn't, but it's happened. It is huge and the décor is decadent. It reminds me of the entrances they have in the swankier hotels back in London. There is a grand staircase at the back, and a thick navy-coloured carpet snakes all the way up the stairs to the first and second floors. The flooring of the atrium is highly polished light hardwood that leads to Baroque-style walls. But what draws my eye more than anything is the huge gilded painting at the very back of the atrium, central on the wall above the staircase. It features a pure golden wolf, standing proudly on a hill that overlooks a forest and a vast meadow of colourful wildflowers. The wolf has piercing green eyes, and for a moment I can't look at anything else. Now, I cannot help but wonder where wolves play into the history of the school. Above the bottom of the staircase is a beautiful and rather sizeable chandelier with hundreds of glittering lights. The ceiling itself is ornate too, as if the space needed just one more defining feature. I immediately feel overwhelmed by the grandeur of this place and take a long, measured breath as I look at the entrance hall to my new school. This actually looks nothing like how I imagined a school to look. It is very impressive... but I'm not. Am I going to fit in here? My mental detour is broken by a woman's voice. "Hello there! Good afternoon! You must be new to the college?" a woman calls to us from behind a large reception desk to our left. I turn to face the woman, who has dark hair framing her plump and homely face. She looks kind. I step forward apprehensively towards the desk. "Hi. Yes... I'm new," I say nervously. She smiles back at me warmly, which does relax me a little. She gestures for me to come over. "Head on over here, honey, and let's go through the paperwork. I'll give you your room key and get your welcome pack sorted," she says, putting on the glasses hanging around her neck. "I'll do it," Dad offers happily, taking the paperwork from me and heading over to the receptionist himself while I walk further into the atrium. To the right of the staircase is a large set of comfortable-looking navy-blue sofas arranged around a circular oak coffee table. Along the wall behind the sofa arrangement is a wide noticeboard split into 'Secondary' and 'Sixth Form' sections. A few vending machines are a little further away near one of several corridors that branch off the atrium. This is definitely not a small school. Exton College has a secondary school and a sixth form, meaning students can attend from the age of eleven until they reach sixteen. They can then continue their college-level studies until the age of eighteen. Or there can be people like me, joining for the final two years of sixth form after leaving a normal secondary school. I walk over and take a closer look at what is on the sixth-form noticeboard. There is a basic list of events for the coming academic year. - Winter Formal — 19 November - Sixth-form ski trip to Chamonix — 18 February I decide that I will absolutely sign up for the ski trip. It is one of the most exhilarating things I can do and I love it. I'd gone almost every winter with my parents for as long as I could remember. An important work trip to California had ruined the prospect of going this winter, though. "Come on then, Els, let's go find your new room," Dad says from behind me, having finished exchanging forms and receiving various items from the kind lady on reception. I grab the handle of one of my suitcases and head to the lift to the side of reception. After following some signs for the 'Ladies' Residential Wing', we find room 2.06 on the second floor; my room for the next two years. "And here... we... go!" mutters Dad, slotting my keycard into the security slot by the door. We open the door and step across the threshold. I am quite surprised at how large the room is. I am also surprised to see only two beds, having been in a dormitory with five other girls for the last few years. Two double beds flank either side of the room along the back wall, with an en suite to the right of the entrance door. At the foot of both beds are desks and then large oak wardrobes, complete with a full-length mirror on the door. The décor of this room is in stark contrast to the grandeur of the atrium. Plain white walls, oak furniture and a navy carpet; far more modern and simple compared to the grandiose appearance of the atrium. The main source of colour in the room comes from a dark pink floral duvet topped with a fluffy cream bedspread that is already on one of the beds. I definitely have a roommate, but she doesn't appear to be here yet. I notice a few photos stuck around the mirror on her wardrobe, mainly featuring a rather stunning girl with long, wavy, dark brown hair and another pair of startlingly green eyes. She is surrounded by the same people in every photo and I feel a little apprehensive again — I wonder what my roommate is like. She clearly has an established life here at this school. Would she even like me? The girls in my dormitory didn't care much about me and I'd lived with them for five years. Dad checks his watch and sighs a little. "I'm so sorry, Els, but I really can't stay too much longer. Your mum and I have to be through security at Heathrow in three hours," he says, looking apologetic. "Now... are you definitely sure that this is what you want? No travelling tutor? You could still come along with us?" he says, gently holding both my upper arms and studying my face. I'm not sure. Nervous excitement has turned to plain nervous now that I am here. But I need to be here. I cannot explain the drive behind it, but this is absolutely where I am meant to be. I smile at him, for I am used to this verbal exchange, as we have done it every September for the past ten years. Yet something about this place is giving me a great feeling of trepidation, among other things that I have certainly not felt at any of my other schools. For once, it just feels like I have come to the right place and this is exactly where I need to be. I nod sincerely. "I am fine. I am really excited. This was a good decision. Besides, I'll see you both at Christmas, then again at Easter, and really, we will all be so busy anyway that time is going to go past so quickly," I reassure him. He smiles warmly in response and pulls me into a big hug. He presses a kiss to my forehead. Then, with his hands on my shoulders once more, he studies my face. "Well... don't forget we are always just a phone call away... or maybe an email when you factor in the time difference," he jokes. I laugh and resist the urge to hug him a second time. "Have a safe journey home, Dad. And a safe flight, of course," I say, my voice as steady as I can get it. "Please don't worry about me. I am going to be just fine." He hugs me tightly once again before exiting the room. With a click of the door, it is shut and that's it; I am on my own. I sit on the edge of my new bed for a moment and breathe through the nerves I'd hidden from my dad. It is hard starting somewhere new, but I know I just have to embrace it and power through it. I go over to the large window at the back of the room between the two beds and look out across the grounds. They are vast, green and lush, just as I had hoped. I can see several other Georgian-style buildings separate from this one but connected by winding paths. This campus really is quite large. The closest I had to this back home was Regent's Park, which wasn't too far from our townhouse. I carefully open the window and take a deep breath, enjoying the warm late-summer air entering my lungs. Looking out at the golden sun casting shadows across the grounds, I soon feel wide awake, my nerves beginning to evaporate as excitement begins to set in again. It is only half past four, so there is still some time before dinner. I look at the site map I'd been given, which has the meal times and other items of information anyone new to the school would need to know. I go back over to my side of the room and begin unpacking my things, wondering when my roommate is going to arrive. For all the nerves twisting around in my stomach, something has changed since we drove through those gates. That restless feeling I've carried for months is gone, leaving something inside me quiet and expectant. Somehow, though, Exton already feels like exactly where I'm supposed to be.