Spirit Binding: Hyacinth High

Hyacinth High sits lonesome on a strikingly green mountaintop. Hundreds of years ago, the fortified courtyard palace was home to generations of royal families. Today, the colonnaded structure and pointed arches host elite magical students from all over Valia, but most importantly, from the Hyacinth Valley down below.

Typically, on the ninth day of the month at this time of day, students should be rushing to class with their assignments and, more often than not, with their excuses. There seems to be an unsettling case of magical beasts devouring homework in the valley; however, on this day, they remained standing in the open courtyard.

The professors glanced sideways at one another, their brows furrowed. A few of them stepped back under the shade of the portico to seek cover from the blazing sun. The students were not faring much better. They stood in the yard, separated into nine lines: three classes per level, across three levels.

Levels 1 to 3, A Class, held the prestigious students; they had the brains and the abilities to back them up. B Class students were as smart as the former but lacked the magical prowess to make the first cut. And C Class... Well, they certainly did their best.

Right now, all classes across all levels were getting antsy. A portal shimmered open at the back, admitting a late student, but no one even chastised him. He slipped into his section’s line, unnoticed by the faculty.

A student from Level 2, Class C, sidestepped from the back of the line, where he and the tallest in the class stood, all the way to the front, where his shorter friend was standing.

“Sorry,” Dani murmured as he maneuvered his way to the front. “Let me through, thank you.” He finally managed to squeeze himself between his friend and an annoyed girl who gave him an exasperated sigh.

Pinching his friend’s elbow, he bent closer to ask, “Can you hear what’s happening?”

“They sent a servant to check,” Ran whispered with a hand cupping his mouth. “It’s not clear yet.”

A fit, muscled man of about a hundred years old stepped forward and addressed the students. “It seems our principal will not be joining us. We shall commence the daily prayer in his stead.”

“Our mother in the heavens,” Professor Nasrat began chanting. The students echoed him in chorus.

“Protector of all that is life,” he continued.

At that moment, another professor broke formation. Her departure unleashed disapproving glances from several other professors as she strode toward the stairs of the main building.

Once out of sight, she broke into a run. She hadn’t kept up her fitness in a while, and running up three flights of stairs, taking two steps at a time, left her slightly winded.

She arrived to find the same young servant from earlier knocking at the principal’s door. The girl looked up at Professor Rina’s approach.

“Still no response,” she said exasperated. She didn’t look a day over thirteen.

Professor Rina reached for the door, instructing the girl to step aside. Her nose wrinkled as she turned the handle. The moment the door swung open, a sulfuric stench hit them both in full force.

“God, what is that?” the girl muttered covering her nose. She tried to peek in, but Rina caught her by the shoulder.

“Stay here,” she said firmly.

The curtains in the room were drawn tightly to block out any natural light. Inside, a burly figure lay slumped over the desk, his head resting on an outstretched arm.

The girl, ignoring Rina’s order, slipped in anyway and reached out to wake the sleeping man. Rina pursed her lips, ready to scold her, but it was too late.

The servant’s eyes went wide and her lips parted in a piercing scream. It echoed down the corridor as she bolted out of the room.

The professor pinched her nose to stifle the smell and observed the man's office. It was in an even bigger state of mess than it usually was.

Drawers hung open, their contents rifled through. Documents, pamphlets, and old newspapers were strewn across the floor and counters. On the desk, a cold cup of tea sat beside his stiff hand.

Rina stepped closer and carefully turned his face. His eyes were wide open. Foam clung to the corners of his mouth. His skin was ashen, shriveled, and cold.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Madame Khannah’s voice shattered the silence, snapping Professor Rina out of her spell.

“He’s passed away,” Rina answered quietly.

Madame Khannah’s brows shot up in surprise, but she quickly schooled her features. “More experienced faculty will handle this,” she said tersely. “Please return to the teachers’ lounge.”

Rina didn’t argue. She backed away from the body and stepped out of the office.