CHAPTER 60: NOMINATED...

Charis

I finally reached my classroom, a smile on my face and my heart still fluttering from the morning’s unexpected tenderness with Kael.

The building wasn’t difficult to locate; it took me just two turns, and I arrived, coupled with the fact that I spotted a few familiar faces of other first-year students.

Right at the entrance of the classroom, there was a wooden box with ’OPEN ME’ written in bold letters across the front. Following the obvious instruction, I lifted the lid to reveal dozens of tiny compartments inside, each labelled with a student’s name in neat handwriting.

I found the one labelled ’Eamon Riggs’ and opened it. Inside was a golden card etched with my alias and embossed with the Ravenshore crest. I turned it over, rechecking the compartment, but nothing was written on it.

No instructions.

Shrugging, I slipped the card into my bag, alongside the new phone Kael had given me, took a deep breath to steady my nerves and walked into the classroom.

The classroom was larger than I’d expected. Like a mini amphitheatre with tiered rows of desks arced around a central teaching platform, it reminds me of a university lecture hall. French windows lined the side of the classroom, giving us a view of the Academy compound.

I recognised several faces from orientation and the dining hall, but I kept my gaze lowered as I made my way to an empty seat at the back of the class. The last thing I wanted was unwanted attention on my first day.

I’d just settled into a chair and was pulling out my schedule to make some personal adjustments when a shadow loomed over my desk.

"Hey, roommate."

I looked up to find Phil—Phil Whitmore from Redmoon pack—my former dorm mate, flashing me a sheepish smile.

"Uh, hi, Phil..." I murmured warily and returned to what I wanted to do before he showed up. What did he want now?

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I, uh...just wanted to say sorry. About the way I acted that day at the dorm. I was a total jerk, and I feel so terrible knowing that you’re not there because of me."

I nodded slowly. "That’s past now, but it’s fine. I accept your apology."

"Really?" He said happily. "Thank you."

I nodded and opened my schedule book, noticing he was still there. I looked up again, flashing him a smile.

"Is there something else?" I asked.

"Not really," he grinned at me again. "You can return to the dorm now. I promise I’ll be a better roommate."

Not wanting to get into explanations about Kael’s room or reveal that I was pretty happy with my current situation, or that I wouldn’t be returning, I nodded, flashing him a quiet smile.

"Okay," I said quietly, and went back to my notebook and schedule again, in hopes he would take the hint and leave.

Instead of leaving, Phil stretched out his hand with a hopeful expression. "Friends?"

I looked at his outstretched palm for a moment before nodding again. "Cool," I said, taking his hand briefly.

Before Phil could continue the conversation, the classroom door opened and a stern woman in a dark green suit walked in. Her heels clicked loudly as she made her way to the front of the class.

Without being told, the entire glass settled down. Those who had been chatting before she entered were all seated now, facing her.

"Good morning, first year. My name is Mrs. Tiam, but you should call me Janet. I am your form mistress. Congratulations on making it to this prestigious institution."

She set down her briefcase, fixing the class with a stern look.

"Before I introduce your term work, I’d like to make a few things crystal clear..." She paused.

"I do not care about your childhood trauma, your heartbreaks or whatever unprocessed emotional baggage you carried from your pack. I am not a therapist, so don’t come to me about anything that’s not schoolwork related. I’m here to make sure you don’t leave this place as a disgrace."

The silence in the room was deafening. I think everyone was just surprised at the way she was talking.

"Your first term assessment will take place a fortnight from today, and you should treat every test as important because that is where your final scoring will come from. Our exams here are practically summaries of everything you’ve learned and don’t count for much if you haven’t been paying attention throughout the term."

Her gaze swept the classroom coldly before she continued.

"Here at Ravenshore, you’ll be tested based on your intellect, your physical skills and your potential as future leaders. So if you’re a crybaby, do yourself a favour and ask to be transferred. This school is tough."

I was taking notes. Scribbling rapidly in my notebook, because I didn’t want to miss any crucial information.

"Again, tests, combat drills, and teamwork simulations make up the bulk of your assessment, and every mark matters. To get promoted to the next term, your total score must be sixty per cent and above. Anything less results in a repeat, though a trial exam to help boost scores may be allowed, depending on the percentage that fails, but I wouldn’t count on it."

She paused again, making eye contact with several students, including me.

"Respect your seniors, respect your teachers, respect the administrative staff—they’re also called ’Specialists’ and do not break any rules. We take rule-breaking seriously around here, so be careful. Please arrive at and leave the classes on time. No loitering. No skipping class. And once again, I don’t care about your traumas or relationship issues. Fix them yourself."

The bluntness of her words was refreshing after a lifetime of people tiptoeing around difficult topics. I appreciated the straightforward approach.

Janet opened the suitcase she had come into the class with and brought out small booklets.

"I’ve made a list of your courses for this term, all the materials you’ll need—which are available at the school’s Bookstore—and the dress code for special events. Some of the requirements are mandatory by next week. No excuses."

She began dropping the booklets row by row, giving them to the person in front to pass back. When I received mine, I immediately started flipping through it, noting the extensive course load and detailed requirements.

"These next items are equally important," she continued, producing another stack of papers. "This is the form for the mentorship program. By now, I’m sure many of you are familiar with some of your seniors. Please select your favourite and ask them to be your mentor. You’ll only need their signatures. Get this submitted by tomorrow before the end of school."

Some of my classmates murmured as the form was passed around.

I thought about Marcus, wondering what he would do if he knew I wouldn’t choose him as my mentor.

"If you’re confused about who to choose, the school will randomly assign a senior to you," Janet continued. "Mentorships are the core to the leadership exercise here, and your performance affects your final score. So, it matters. A lot."

She waited for a few minutes for the forms to get around the class. Most of the student started filling theirs right away with smiles on their faces.

"Also," Janet continued, gesturing toward the entrance. "The card you collected from the box outside is your access card to the library, school gym, cafeteria, café, dance room, literally all the places you’ll need access to as a first-year student. It has an associated app which you can download to see all the locations it grants access to."

I pulled out my golden card again, examining it with new appreciation for its importance.

"When the student union comes later today, they’ll give you a code to scan to join the general school platform. There you’ll find the name of the app to download and other important information I might have missed."

Janet clapped her hands together, bringing everyone’s attention back to her as she closed her briefcase.

"That being said, finally, every class needs a Calls Alpha. Since I cannot always be present, your Class Alpha representative will attend closed-door meetings on your behalf, handle other administrative matters, and ensure your class is well-represented. You can nominate someone else or yourself."

I’d been diligently jotting down everything Janet had said. My pen moved rapidly across the page as I captured the last sentence and mused quietly to myself that the responsibility of Class Alpha sounded both important and potentially dangerous.

The last thing I needed was anything that would draw attention or scrutiny to me.

I was still scribbling notes when a clear voice rang out from somewhere in the middle of the classroom:

"I nominate Eamon Riggs as Class Alpha!"

My pen froze mid-word. My heart stopped beating for what felt like an eternity before resuming at double speed. Slowly, I looked up to find dozens of pairs of eyes turning toward me.

Phil was on his feet, pointing at me with a smile on his face that didn’t look genuine.

"Seconded!" another voice called out.