Eden

2

CHAPTER TWO

"And in the darkness was the truth, and the truth spoke to him, saying, 'The Lord has saved you from many things, but fear is not one of them.'"

– Revelations 11:6-8, The Bible of the New World

I look down at my food – a chunk of unrecognisable meat, a glob of numerous vegetables all mashed up in a rainbow mess, a thick coating of overwhelming gravy – and pretend to listen as my friends talk around me. It's something about the upcoming test. It's not the Test, but it's still important, nevertheless, and now that the date has been set, it seems to be the only thing everyone can talk about.

But I don't feel like talking about it.

I haven't been doing all too well in school lately. My marks in mathematics have dropped significantly, I'm failing English, I can't recall half the stuff I've been taught in Geography, and I've all but given up on History. It seems that the only thing I'm even remotely doing well in at the moment is Physics.

Well, that and Religious Studies.

But why count a subject that everyone gets an A in? Why count a subject that the punishment for failing is Expulsion? I have to do well in Religious Studies.

And besides, I want to do well. At the end of next year, if all goes to plan, I'll gain the all-important title of a Pure. It's everything I've worked for and everything I've ever wanted. Just the thought of spending the rest of my life as an impure – as an outcast – makes me sick. I don't want to go through that. No one should have to go through that.

A loud, boisterous laugh catches my attention and I slip a look at the group of six seated at a table to my left. Three girls, three boys, each and every one dressed immaculately in dark grey, gifted with flawless physiques and beautiful looks. At this school, and probably every school in Eden or even the world, the 'popular' group consists of Nephilim – the children/descendants of both humans and angels – and Nephilim only. They're rich, flawless and extraordinarily gifted academically, physically and magically. I dislike them immensely.

"Avalon, stop staring. They'll notice."

I turn my head to look at Kal, warning in his brown eyes. "So what? Let them notice. They know I hate them."

Kal rolls his eyes. "You're gonna get yourself killed one day, you know that?"

"Not if I become a Pure first."

"Well, they're closer to that goal than you are." And he's right.

It's easy to pick the impure from the Pure because of clothing. The Pure wear black while the impure are all dressed in varying shades of grey, depending on their year. The closer you are to becoming a Pure, the darker your clothing is, and so at the start of every year, we're given new clothes – blacker greys to wear.

But the Nephilim are an exception. They wear the darkest shade of grey all through primary and high school until the day they become fully-fledged Pures and can claim their black along with everyone else. I don't really know why they're given darker clothing, but I suppose it has something to do with the fact that they never fail the Test and are incredibly valuable in the eyes of the Lord.

And they sure as hell like to rub that fact in our faces. The smug bastards.

I fiddle with the sleeve of my grey shirt. It's dark, but not dark enough, and for some reason, my clothing has always been a source of embarrassment – it's been a reminder for so long that I'm not good enough, not yet.

But I will be.

Tierney, one of the Nephilim, catches my eyes and winks, and just like that, I've had enough. Abruptly, I stand up, pushing my chair back from the table, the sound barely registering in the crowded dining hall.