Academy of The Holy Order

Chapter 1

I turned 16 last month; I also finished my last year of school. I’d already applied for college, but that wasn’t a direction I wanted to go in anymore, maybe if you asked me last week I would have said yes, college all the way, but now I have a different option.

A few days ago my Mother came into my room, I assumed for our routine ‘how was your day?’ talk, but it was different this time. She told me that I didn’t have to go to 6th form or college, and that I could do something else instead. At first I celebrated, I mean, who wouldn’t? Then she told me I could be an exorcist, and everything changed.

My Mother, Sofia Novak, came from an exorcist family. She wasn’t an exorcist, she is timid and likes bagels, and not exactly someone who I’d assume could kill demons or anything for that matter.

I spent the last few days lying in bed, watching the minutes change on my clock, trying to decide between madness or sanity. To be honest it is such a stupid option to give a teenager, of course we would always choose the more interesting option, screw reality, I want to fight demons. The only thing stopping me was Mother; if I left her she would be alone. My Father had died when I was ten, and she took it the hardest of all. She said it would be fine, so I promised to call every chance I got and hoped I could keep my word; I’m not particularly good at doing so.

So, here I am, standing in the foyer of Fiumicino Airport with my mother’s scarf around my neck. Her smell still lingers on it, for some reason it gives me confidence to know that she is still with me even in a small way.

I keep checking my watch; the woman I am supposed to be meeting is ten minutes late. On the plane I’d tried teaching myself ‘conversational Italian’, but I’m hopeless at languages, it took me five years to become fluent in English after arriving from Poland and I still have remnants of an accent.

I feel a hand laid softly on my shoulder, I turn to see a young woman wearing lots of make up and with golden hair, she gives me a brief but disarming smile;

“Magda Novak I presume?” She says.

I nod.

“Christiana Santangelo, a pleasure to meet you.”

She puts her hand out, I shake it reluctantly, the only time anyone has shaken my hand was on those awful Commendation Evenings we had at school where I had to stand up on stage and receive a certificate for doing a ‘good job’ in my lessons.

“How was your flight?”

“Long” I laugh, “And hot.”

She nods, laughing with me, “Don’t worry” she smiles, “You won’t be doing anymore flying for a while we use...alternate modes of transportation.”

I grimace at the thought of what they could be,

“Follow me.” She says, she turns swiftly on her heels and glides through the foyer.

Everyone’s eyes are on her, it’s understandable, she is beautiful. Long golden hair and lightly tanned skin. She’s like the sun, giving life to the things around her.

I follow her through the car park; my suitcase and the sound of her heels on the floor are the only noises. I feel like I should say something, but as someone who spends more time in the company of their computer rather than with people the only thing I can think of to say is ‘Italy sure has nice weather, smiley face’.

“We’re very happy to have someone from your family back at the school, your Mother was the only child of her generation and she chose not to enrol, such a shame.” She says, stopping in front of a black car.

She opens the passenger door, letting me in, I sit rather uncomfortably the leather is cold and squeaks under my weight. Christiana walks around the car and sits elegantly in the driver’s seat,