At twilight, the castle-like academy's dorm rooms lit up with the warmest, softest of yellow glows peeking out of its tall windows.
Saturday sits at his desk in his crisp school uniform, flipping through the book with the prophecy.
There were so many threads to my investigation,
He stops flipping the pages as he lands on the other half of the prophecy, the school and beyond ablaze with flames, with a what seemed to be pilgrim silhouette in the foreground. He slides a long, pale finger down the spine in the middle of the pages.
I could weave a burial shroud.
He reaches into his inner blazer pocket and pulls out the other half of the prophecy: himself, standing in a sea of flames.
I still have no idea how Rowan mysteriously rose from the dead.
He unfolds the page, gazing at it intently.
Or why that monster is prowling the woods.
He alines the torn page back into the book, creating the full prophecy.
But right now, nothing intrigues me more than this book.
His eyes glare at the full drawing.
If I'm going to be responsible for Nevermore's demise,
Thing crawls silently towards the book, and his Master.
the question is,
The boy furrows his sleek, black eyebrows ever so slightly.
why am I sharing this apocalypse with a pilgrim?
The agonising question hangs in the air without an answer.
☟☟☟
The next day was perfect, in Saturday's opinion, the skies were grey and the weak sun was almost completely hidden by the large, grey clouds.
Saturday stands with the rest of his grade out in the quad or 'pentagon', though he was alone. Ethan and Misaki were talking, the young werewolf holding a sky blue slate and his petite maid had a white bag with a pale pink cherry blossom design in her small hands picked out for her by Master Mortician.
The tall, pale, black haired, obsidian eyed boy's expression was filled with disdain. He was wearing his black and grey custom Nevermore uniform, with the silver Nevermore crest. He had his eyelids lowered, then abruptly lifts them and turns around to Principal Weem's voice.
The tall, lean and muscular white-blonde Principal steps out of the corridors onto the little stone platform and claps two gloved hands together.
"All students will report for their volunteer jobs at 10:00 a.m. sharp, followed by a community lunch at 1:00." announces Principal Weems, his deep, honeyed voice having no trouble being heard by the large crowd of students.
Saturday puts his black notebook into his slate.
The stone open archways surrounding the crowd of students had beautifully crafted columns supporting it and delicate, traditional designs carved into the arches.
The group stood around the water fountain with a dead tree in the centre, listening intently.
In Principal Weem's perspective, Ajax and Xaviera stood at the front left. Saturday stood on one of the two narrow stone paths leading away from the water fountain, standing out- or should one say, fading away into the shadows in his unique black and grey uniform, black slate in pale hand.
Misaki, Ethan and Yuki were standing at the front centre position, the young werewolf at the very centre, between the beautiful petite maid and exotic Japanese vampire. Ethan was smiling brightly and gently holding on to Misaki's hand, interlacing his long pale fingers with hers, to which she did not resist, Saturday noticed. He felt like ice shards were slicing through that white hot burn in his chest, but didn't give his cocky roommate the pleasure of catching his discomfort, looking straight ahead.
Yuki was smirking while wearing his black rimmed sunglasses and had a fashionable navy, high top sweater and his long white shirt untucked. It gave him an artistic look.
Next to Yuki was the merman student, slightly long dark brown locks slicked back and wearing a grey sweater instead of a navy one. He stood slightly away from Bianco, who was standing in the front right with his right hand man smirking at his side.
The fencing Maestro stood smirking slightly in his purple with two blue striped training clothes next to the Principal, standing on the grass. He had on a black shirt underneath and a navy no-shouldered zip up vest, his large pale hand holding on to some pamphlets with the golden 'N' Nevermore crest on the front navy page.
"As you know, this year Outreach Day culminates in a very special event, the dedication of a new memorial statue in the town square, which will also include performances by Nevermore students." announces the Principal slowly, loudly and clearly across the clearing.
Ethan chuckles excitedly as he turns his head to grin at Misaki, squeezing her hand tighter. She looks back with her usual blank expression, but, Ethan notices sharply, her cheeks were slightly tinted.
Bianco's group all smirk arrogantly.
"As representatives of our school," the Principal says smoothly in his deep voice as Saturday's obsidian pupils dart sideways, "I trust you will all put your best face forward." The tall, lean and muscular, white-blonde man clasped his black-grey leather gloved hands together as he spoke, staring intentionally at the noppera-bō or "faceless ghost" students.
"Yeah." agreed one noppera-bō, turning his head to his friend.
"Yes!" replied his friend, his arms crossed.
Ajax and Xaviera chuckle and glance at each other.
Ajax was wearing a navy beanie and a navy hooded, zip-up jacket inside his navy and black striped blazer. Xaviera had her shoulder length dark brown hair down, surrounding her pointed face.
Mr. Thornhill, with his blue horn rimmed glasses, wearing a burgundy suit, a shirt in dark purple with a black giraffe print and matching black trousers and leather shoes, bends down slightly to give Eugene a navy Nevermore pamphlet.
Eugene, with his black hair and black rimmed glasses, had on a grey button up school sweater and a dark navy scarf with two black stripes and one white one at the ends, which covered his mouth, eagerly takes the pamphlet from his teacher.
The tall auburn haired man turns around to give another pamphlet to Bianco, with his peacock coloured Gucci backpack, who flips it open and scans it, bottom lip extended over the top lip.
The fencing Maestro hands one to Saturday, but before he could open his, Ethan excitedly bounds up to him, still holding and interlacing his long pale fingers with Misaki's. "Yes! I got Pilgrim World." The young werewolf grins happily.
Saturday gazes icily at his maid's small pale hand in his roommate's large one.
"I do have natural people skills and a love of performing, so it's kind of the obvi choice." rambles Ethan, his deep voice fluctuating with excitement. He stretches his luscious lips out, giving the dark brooding boy a half smile. "What'd you get?"
The tall, black haired, obsidian eyed boy flips his pamphlet open. "Uriah's Heap, whatever that is." he says flatly, his face cold and emotionless. He drills his scorching gaze into Misaki and she quivers slightly.
Ethan makes a face. "Ew. It's this weird, creepy antique store." he says sourly. "You'll love it though." The boy with the white blonde and blue and pink highlights hair smiles encouragingly, though he was beyond relieved that he wasn't stationed there.
Saturday tilts his head and nods slightly.
"I'm crossing my claws Misaki and I will be outreaching together." he smiles brilliantly at the petite girl beside him. She blushes, giving a faint pink on her pale cheeks, accenting her already unmatched beauty.
Ethan thought that she was the most delicate beauty in the whole of Nevermore, even the whole world.
"Oh my God, I got the Weathervane." Xaviera says in annoyance to Ajax, who was next to her. "Dude, trade with me. Come on, trade with me!" Saturday flicks his obsidian eyes to Xaviera's voice.
Principal Weems approaches Ethan, Saturday and Misaki, smiling vibrantly, showing his straight pearly teeth. The tall white blonde man was wearing a long light grey overcoat with matching light grey trousers, a checked and striped grey shirt of different shades, black-grey leathered gloves and a gold watch.
"Saturday, don't worry about your violin. I'll have it brought to the town square this afternoon." he tells the boy, smiling charmingly.
"My violin?" questions the boy emotionlessly, furrowing his perfect black eyebrows.
"I caught your rooftop serenade the other night." The Principal smiles. "Impressive." he compliments.
"I volunteered you to lead the Jericho High School marching band at the ceremony." he continues. "I'm sure it won't be too challenging to play an uplifting Fleetwood mac melody." he smiles down at the young student as he lifts his eyebrows, creating soft lines on his forehead.
"As long as you promise to hang me as a wizard afterwards." Saturday challenges coldly.
His Principal once again lifts his eyebrows as he smiles a white toothy smile.
☟☟☟
The piston of the indigo school bus fired as students chatter over each other as they get off.
First off was the merman, then Bianco's right hand man then in black, grey and white: Saturday. The students after them hurriedly getting off and running into the town of Jericho.
Saturday's pitch black obsidian eyes immediately stop on someone as he stalks over to her.
Xaviera was standing with her arms crossed, starring at a white painted brick wall, its frame still that unpainted natural brownish colour.
"Why are you staring at a blank wall?" he asks her curtly and coldly.
"It wasn't blank last Outreach Day." she frowns as she stares.
Saturday turns his head and looks down at her. "Are you still stewing because I rejected your invitation?" he asks cooly.
She shakes her head ever so slightly. "I don't know, I did go out on a limb for you."
"Oh please. I'm just cannon fodder in whatever cold war you're waging with Bianco." he says flatly as he turns his head back to look at the white wall. "I have more pressing issues on my mind."
"Yeah like what?" she asks as she furrowed her eyebrows and looks at him.
"Tracking down the monster that killed your former friend." he turns his head and looks at her again, voice deep and cold.
"Oh my God. For the last time, Rowan was expelled. Everyone saw him leave." she says exasperatedly, smiling slightly, thinking Saturday was spewing nonsense.
"Have you spoken to him since?" the pale boy beside her asked sharply.
There was a pause.
"I texted him a few times, but I never heard back. I just figured he wanted to put Nevermore in his rearview mirror." she frowns as she replies.
"Or he's dead." he suggests nonchalantly.
"I don't know why you care so much. It's not like you knew the guy." she retorts as she swings an arm down in exasperation.
"I'm not sure why you care so little." says Saturday coldly.
Saturday starts to walk away and Xaviera follows him, with her arms by her side, she was still frowning deeply.
"People can try and dismiss me and make a million other excuses, but I'm not gonna stop." he says, his deep cold voice resolute.
He opens his black slate and reaches inside, taking out the thick, Nightshade society titled book with the skull centred Nightshade engraved in silver on the front cover.
"Oh, great. I guess you can add "thief" to your resume." the thin girl scoffs as she follows the tall, lean boy.
Saturday ignores her as he starts to flip through its pages. The boy and girl stop walking and stand face to face.
"I don't know what the big deal is about an old Nightshades's journal anyways." Xaviera says genuinely with a swish of her arm.
Saturday flips to the prophecy page with the pilgrim silhouette standing in burning flames with its corresponding page next to it and shows it to the shorter girl.
"You didn't seem surprised when I showed you this last night." he says cooly, all business.
Xaviera avoids his glare, looking aside.
"You've seen it before, haven't you?" interrogates Saturday.
She swishes her arm out again as she replies quickly. "Yeah. A couple days before the Harvest Festival. It was open on Rowan's desk so I just assumed he stole it after we kicked him out of the Nightshades." she looks away for a second. "Then I told Bianco who confronted him about it, and I heard he kind of went ballistic."
Saturday's obsidian eyes drilled into her and she subconsciously looks away.
The tall, pale boy recalls his most recent vision...
"It is unbelievable-" Bianco was yelling.
"Shut up!" shouts Rowan.
"How can you?"
"You're crazy!"
Bianco and Rowan both grunt as the tall black boy is flung violently against the wall of their dorm, falling on his bed.
"He threw Bianco against the wall with his telekinesis." recalls Saturday emotionlessly.
"Yeah." Xaviera continues frowning deeply.
"How did you know that?" she asks the boy curiously, hands in blazer pockets.
"Lucky guess." he replies nonchalantly, book still open on his large pale hand.
Saturday looks down at the prophecy.
"It's weird that you're in this. I mean this journal is like, what, 30 years old?" Xaviera says as she points to the leather bound book. "And what the hell's Crackstone doing in the picture with you?" She puts her hands back into her blazer pockets.
Saturday looks down at her. "You know who that is?" he inquires.
"Yeah, it's Joseph Crackstone." she smiles as she answers, motioning with her hand.
"He's like, Jericho's Founding Father. He's kind of a big deal around here." she explains. "Yeah, look." she points behind him, to two banners being put up by men in orange construction clothing.
The man in the centre of the banner was handsome, youthful and boyish, wearing a pilgrim's silver buckled black hat and black cloak tied around his broad shoulders, with a white shirt inside and black trousers with a silver belt buckle. He had brown hair in a long bowl cut and sparkling blue eyes. At his waist were two little school boys with blonde hair and blue eyes, carrying backpacks. The background of the banner was a darker blue sky with clouds of baby blue and white.
The title on the top of the banner said:
ᴠɪsɪᴛ
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘
On the bottom, the subtext reads:
ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅ ᴛʀɪᴀʟs ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴀᴛ 2 & 4!
"That's him." confirms Xaviera.
Saturday turns to look Joseph Crackstone straight in the face, book in hand.
There's something sinister about him. The boy thinks as he looks at the handsome smiling man.
☟☟☟
Sheriff Galphin narrows his eyes as she looks up at the sun, it's light accentuating his wrinkles.
"Sheriff." came a man's deep voice.
"Yeah." he replies and turns his head.
"You remember my son, Lucas?" questions the tall, black, muscular man, wearing a beige zip-up coat, a grey vest and a currant coloured tie with a white dotted pattern and a silver tie pin, a hand on his son's back. The man barely had hair and one could get away with saying that he was bald, though he did have a small moustache on his dark face.
His son smiles mischievously up at his father. He was even darker than the man, stocky, tall, though slightly shorter than his father, and had the classic African cropped black hair, wearing the same pilgrim outfit as the time his gang tried to assault Saturday in Taylor's café.
"I sure do. I ran into him and his buddies last week at the Weathervane." says the thin man welcomingly, with his hands in his jacket pocket, motioning his head at the tall black man. He was wearing his grey Sheriff's coat and wide brimmed hat, both pieces of clothing had sown on the badge bearing: The Jericho county, Sheriff.
"I'd better get to work." says Lucas quickly.
"Hey, no trouble today. You got it?" says his father warningly but kindly, making the stocky black boy stop in his tracks.
His eyes dart around and he nods slightly, then walks off, leaving his father alone with the town's Sheriff.
The thin man groans, motioning with his head to the crowd of Nevermore students flooding into town. The tall black man looks in their direction.
"Hey, don't look too excited. Those outcast kids might think we're happy to have 'em." the black man says to the white man as they start to take a slow stroll.
They step onto a higher part of the pavement. "We still got something lurking in the woods, no doubt connected to that school." he motions slightly with his head again, the sun making deep shadows on the lines in his pale face.
"Come on, would you stop pointing fingers at Nevermore?" requests the man, a hint of exasperation in his deep voice, his hands in his beige pockets. "You know how much Jericho depends on that place. Who do you think pays for our roads, our parks...even your salary?" he says quietly, so that the hoards of students couldn't hear him.
The grey haired, blue eyed man looks at him and he looked back when the Sheriff continues arguing, "I'm just doing my job, looking out for the well-being of our town, boss."
"Look, don't lecture me, Donovan." says the man warningly. "Before the good citizens of Jericho elected me mayor, I used to wear that badge, remember?" his eyes flickering over the JERICHO COUNTY, Sheriff badge on the other man's jacket arm.
The Sheriff nods curtly, reminiscing. "Mm-hmm. You never struck me as much of a history buff back then."
They walk through the park, set with chairs and decorations, ready to welcome the band.
"If it's good for business, then it's good for Jericho." concludes the mayor.
"Especially if your business is Pilgrim World." the thin man retorts sarcastically.
"Hey." says the man, clearly offended. "Just find the damn bear and take care of it." he orders to the thin, sour faced man, looking straight into his blue eyes.
The other man looks away. "Mmm." he sighs and walks off.
The mayor adjusts his coat roughly by pulling it down.
"Yes all alright. Everyone take a seat. We have a special announcement." declares Principal Weems in a clear, deep, melodic voice. The students applaud.
The mayor forces himself to smile as he turns towards the Nevermore Principal and his students, his full set of teeth showing, giving him a horror-esque appearance.
The tall, black man walks up to the front of the crowd.
"Welcome, welcome, Nevermore Academy." the mayor opens his arms to appear more friendly to the students.
He claps his hands together, facing the sitting students and the standing Principal. Saturday and Xaviera had just arrived at the scene. "Now, on behalf of the entire Jericho community, we are so, so pleased to have you all here today." The men wearing red construction jackets were polishing and placing the marching band's white seats on the small red topped white blocky stage.
"Your generosity and hard work are truly..." he paused, finding the right word, "outreachous!" he declares. Saturday thought his overenthusiastic hand motions were a failed attempt to appear welcoming.
The mayor laughs, then clears his throat.
Saturday and Xaviera were standing on the side of the white benches, the tall, lean, boy stood stiffly, with his arms crossed and a cold, annoyed look on his pale face, while the girl was slightly more relaxed, leaning her arm slightly on the white benches.
Misaki's eyes dart around the crowd of seated students and finds her young Master. Ethan was still firmly holding onto her soft, delicate hand and she desperately wanted to go to Saturday, but the werewolf would not let her go so easily!
Hanging on the back of the white benches were various white, red and navy patterns on semicircle sheets. Hanging between the white poles behind the benches were alternating, navy white and red small triangular flags. It gave the rows of white benches some colour and festivity.
Principal Weems abruptly stalks to the front of the crowd and stands next to the mayor. The white-blonde man was taller by far, giving him the authoritative position.
"Okay, everyone. We'll see you back here at one o'clock for lunch. Enjoy!" He claps his black gloved hands together and exclaims excitedly with a big smile on his pale face.
The students get off the benches and start heading to their respective stations.
As the crowd walks down the concrete roads, they notice that the triangular flags were hanging from between the dark emerald light posts, which also each hung a banner of Joseph Crackstone.
Ethan and Misaki were at the very front of the crowd. They were still still holding hands, Saturday notices with disdain, but hid this behind a very cold and hard expression.
Just a few paces back, Yuki had slung an arm Bianco's right hand man, both looking excitedly at the siren's pamphlet.
"Ethan." states Saturday coldly. His werewolf roommate and maid stop as the dark brooding boy hands his navy pamphlet to the white-blonde boy. "Switch volunteer assignments."
It was more of an order than a proposal.
☟☟☟