The family was based in California while Rosethorne was tucked all the way up in the mountains of Vermont. Not only that, but Rosethorne was also strict with its boarding school policies, and no exceptions were to be made for Halyna's case. The girl was free to stay with her parents every weekend, but Mondays to Fridays she would have to reside on campus, and while Agatha wasn't sure if Halyna's parents were ready for that...
They really hadn't any choice.
Rosethorne, for better or for worse, was Halyna's only chance to put the pieces of her life back together.
Chapter One
Monday | Wednesday | Friday
0800h - 0900h Creaturae
0910h - 1010h Scientia
1020h - 1150h Istoría
1150h - 1250h Ora gia gévma
1300h - 1430h Mathimatiká
1440h - 1540h Naturae
1550h - 1650h Mirykasmós
Tuesday | Thursday
0800h - 0900h Scientia
0910h - 1010h Creaturae
1020h - 1150h Physica Educationem
1150h - 1250h Ora gia gévma
1300h - 1430h Glóssa
1440h - 1540h Aesthetica
1550h - 1650h Istoría
I'm not sure of what to think about my class schedule. It's printed on parchment paper for one, which I admit is a classy touch.
And...pun intended, naturally.
Class. Classy.
You get it, right?
But I digress.
The whole thing is also written in a mixture of Greek and Latin, and it's the latter that gives me pause. If Greek is now the new French, Latin is, well...it's still a dead language, and I have no idea why Rosethorne is trying to resurrect it. Outside the clergy, the only other kind of people I know who speak Latin are those who directly work for the gods, and...oh.
I fidget restlessly in the backseat of my Uber as an unexpected possibility occurs to me. Is that why Agatha has been so evasive when answering my questions about my new school? She's never lied to me, but if this school is what I suspect it is, then she probably thought lying was the only way she could get me on board with the whole start-fresh-in-Vermont thing.
Agatha knows how I feel about the divine, and the more I think about it, the more things start making sense. The gods are big on privacy, and Rosethorne being patronized by the divine could be why I wasn't able to find any info about it on the Internet.
The sides of my temple start to throb, and I quickly turn my gaze outside in hopes of distracting myself and preventing the onslaught of a major headache.
THE DRIVER SEEMS TO sense my discomfort, and the older man takes a peek at me through the rearview mirror. "We can lower the windows if you want," he suggests gruffly. "Fresh air never does anyone harm."
"I'd like that," I say with a grateful smile. "Thanks."
A gentle breeze sweeps inside the car as soon as the windows go down, and the older man starts talking to me about how late September in Vermont means the weather is still the "friendly" side of cool, and how the views outside are something I should take my fill of, while everything's still lush and green.
It's sensible advice, so I do as he asks and focus my attention on the scenery, which is admittedly a lot more picturesque than the suburban cookie-cutter garden plots I'm used to.
Tall wild grass grow freely on my side of the road, and between them are vibrantly colorful clumps of heleniums. Flowers play a huge role in Post-3rd education, and so I also know that the heleniums will say goodbye come the last day of summer. Once leaves start to turn red and brown, flowers of autumn would blossom to life, and alongside them, I'll also be starting anew as a transfer student in Rosethorne School...and wait a minute, did I just compare myself to a flower about to bloom?
The realization nearly makes me gag, and I quickly urge myself to think of something else, like...
Shit.
An old memory resurfaces to replace the disgustingly poetic nonsense my mind has conjured, but it's unfortunately something a lot less desirable. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it's already too late.
I'm twelve again, I'm back in my old bedroom in my parents' house, and I've just had this genius thought of looking up my biological parents online.
I only knew their names at that time, so all I was hoping for was to dig up a couple of photos.
But instead I got more.
A bad kind of more, like tons of newspaper articles that not-so-subtly derided my biological parents for their stupidity. Apparently, those two had been foolish enough to challenge the gods when no one asked them to. And so they died without having to. And I became an orphan when I didn't have to be.
I know the gods aren't to blame in any way, but a part of me does blame them, and since then, I've stayed as far away as I could from anything that has to do with the divine. People think I'm weird for it, but I really can't care less about what they think.