The Vesper Creed

Chapter 4

Aizere's Point of View

I spent nearly an hour in front of the full-length mirror in my room, obsessing over every tiny detail of my reflection. I wanted to look like I belonged here, even if my memories were still missing. I had chosen a fitted black long-sleeved top with a deep, scooped neckline that felt both elegant and modern. I paired it with a high-waisted mini skirt that had a subtle metallic, satin-like finish; it shimmered softly every time I shifted my weight. After checking my outfit, I turned my attention to my hair. My blonde locks were styled in my signature voluminous, loose waves that bounced against my shoulders. Just as I was applying a final touch of lip gloss, my phone let out a familiar ping. It was an iMessage from Ruan.

Ruan: Im here.

I grabbed my black leather sling bag, took one last deep breath, and hurried downstairs. When I pushed open the front door, the crisp, damp air of the Pacific Northwest hit my face. Ruan was there, looking perfectly at home as he leaned against his rugged brown car. He was halfway through a pancake—likely a peace offering from my dad—and he didn't miss a beat as he saw me. My dad was already stationed by his police truck, looking imposing and official in his sheriff's uniform. As I walked toward them, Ruan reached out with a playful smirk and fed me a fresh strawberry.

"Hey, Ruan! Make sure you drive carefully. I mean it," my dad said, his voice dropping into that stern "Police Chief" register that usually made people stand up straighter.

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Ruan barked back with a sharp, mock salute that broke the tension and made us all laugh.

Dad turned to me then, his expression softening instantly. I had inherited his eyes that specific, bright clarity and I could see them shimmering with a mix of pride and worry as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear. "Enjoy your first day and make plenty of friends, Sol," he said softly. He'd used that nickname, taken from my middle name Soleia, since I was a toddler.

"I will, Dad," I promised, giving him a quick, tight hug before climbing into the passenger seat of Ruan's car. Ruan hopped in beside me, gripped the steering wheel, and shot me a confident look. "Let's start our epic sophomore year," he declared, and we pulled away from the curb.

As we pulled into the school parking lot, the sight of St. Carmelle Academy took my breath away. It was a classic, multi-story red brick institution that looked like it had been standing for centuries against the lush, foggy backdrop of Washington. The main building featured rows of clean, white-paned windows and a massive wooden sign welcoming students at the base of a grassy hill. The lot was a graveyard of older vehicles, but one stood out—a vintage, rust-orange pickup truck that looked like it had stories to tell. The entire scene was framed by towering evergreen trees and a heavy, misty grey sky that made the red bricks of the school pop.

My quiet observation was interrupted by a loud commotion behind us. I turned to see Ruan suddenly swarmed by a group of guys. One of them, a tall guy with a broad grin, had Ruan in a playful headlock, rubbing his knuckles into Ruan's hair while the others cheered. Ruan was laughing, clearly enjoying the rowdy welcome from his friends. Nearby, a group of girls watched the scene with practiced boredom. They were wearing ultra-fitted, tiny crop tops and enough makeup to stage a play—the kind of girls who clearly ruled the social ladder.

Suddenly, a guy from the edge of the group stumbled and slammed hard into my shoulder. Ruan's laughter stopped instantly. He broke free from the headlock with surprising speed and was at my side in a heartbeat, his hand firm on my arm as he checked for injuries.

"Oops... sorry," the guy muttered, though he was clearly trying to hide a snicker. Ruan's eyes darkened, and the guy's smile vanished the moment he saw the look on Ruan's face. He scrambled away without another word.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Ruan asked, his voice low and full of concern as he inspected the spot where I'd been hit.

"I'm fine, Ruan. It was just a bump," I said with a small smile, though I secretly loved how protective he was. We began walking into the building, passing through a maze of bright red lockers and cliques of students.

"What's your schedule like?" he asked. I pulled out my phone and held it up so he could see the photo of my classes.

"Okay, you've got Human Biology (HB 203) first. We aren't in the same block for that, but we have Microbiology together right after. I'll walk you to your room so you don't get lost. This way," he said, guiding me down the right-hand hallway.

The Human Biology classroom was exactly what you'd expect: rows of white lab tables topped with modern microscopes and a massive green chalkboard covered in detailed, hand-drawn diagrams of cells and DNA.

The walls were decorated with framed portraits of famous scientists and vintage anatomical charts. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, leafy shadows of indoor plants across the desks.

"This is it. After the bell, I'll be standing right outside this door so we can go to Micro together," Ruan promised. I nodded and walked inside, claiming the last empty seat in the middle of the room.

I hadn't even been seated for ten seconds when a voice whispered from the desk next to mine. "Hi!"

I looked over to see a girl with long, honey-blonde hair and a bold, dark berry lip. She looked edgy in her monochromatic black top with a deep V-neck and a ruffled skirt that faded from black to a misty grey. She was dripping in silver—chunky necklaces, large hoop earrings, and a sparkling black cuff on her wrist.

"Hi," I replied, feeling a bit out of my element.

"I saw you in the parking lot with Ruan. I'm Lilith Branson," she said, leaning in. "I'm Ruan's friend, but I'm not like those 'plastic' girls you saw earlier." Her bluntness made me relax immediately.

"Aizere Soleia Forbes," I introduced myself.

As the professor walked in, Lilith leaned even closer, her voice a tiny whisper. "So, what's your deal with Ruan? You guys a thing?"

"No, just childhood friends," I whispered back.

"Wait... Forbes? As in the Sheriff's daughter?" she asked. I nodded, and for a split second, Lilith's expression flickered into something unreadable almost like she was puzzled or suspicious before she smoothed it over with a quick smile.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, noticing the shift.

"Nothing. So... what finally brought you back to this rainy town?" she asked, her pen hovering over her notebook.

"My mom died," I said. I didn't mean for it to sound so casual, but the truth was just a flat fact now.

The moment the words left my mouth, Lilith's pen stopped dead on the paper. At that exact second, a freakishly strong gust of wind slammed against the classroom windows, rattling the glass so loudly that the entire class gasped.

"Don't mind the wind, everyone. Just a typical Washington morning. Let's focus," the professor said, though the air in the room suddenly felt twenty degrees colder.

The rest of the hour was spent with Lilith and me quietly exchanging notes and small talk. When the bell finally rang, we walked out together to find Ruan leaning against the wall by the door, casually tossing an apple in the air like he hadn't a care in the world.

"So, you two have already met," Ruan said with a knowing smirk.

Lilith rolled her eyes at him. "You didn't mention she was back, you i***t," she teased, stepping between us as we started down the hallway.

"My bad," Ruan laughed.

"What's your next class?" Lilith asked, looking at me.

"Microbiology in MB 109," I answered.

Lilith's eyes lit up, and she immediately hooked her arm through mine, pulling me away from Ruan. "That's my class too! Come on, let's go before all the good seats are taken!"

"Hey! Wait for me!" Ruan shouted from behind, but Lilith and I were already laughing, leaving him to catch up in the crowded, red-lockered hall.