The whole school took a sharp dive from bleak to depressingly gloomy.
Despite classes being cancelled and students given the ability to free-roam the school for over a week, hardly anyone seemed to enjoy it. All the teachers had assigned homework in relation to the Dark Vigil and most students were focused on that. There wasn't happy discussion in the cafeteria anymore, everyone ate silently with a heavy air about them. The hallways were depressingly dull and the once-vibrant, colorful school became awash in grays.
Rose understood it was a really awful part of history, she did.
She did not understand why they felt the need to prolong such a depressing thing for a week, though.
She didn't dare voice her confusion or objection on such a matter. Others already thought she couldn't appreciate the importance of the holiday simply because she was a dragon. It was her kind that inflicted horrors upon the Community, and certain students felt that because of it, she shouldn't be a part of their mourning.
Rose didn't want to admit to them that she didn't understand. She understood the need to set vigils, or prolonged honors (Mother Mara was very strict about the holidays), but none of them were as depressing as this.
What happened was sad, yes, but if they kept focusing on the absolute awfulness about the whole thing, then…
Rose wasn't sure how to finish that thought. It didn't seem right to dwell on something that only caused pain.
But you're a dragon. Of course you don't understand. You can't understand.
Rose immediately banished that thought. Her belief had nothing to do with being a dragon. Surely, Mother Mara or Mr. Whiskers would agree with her.
While Rose didn't agree with the holiday, she couldn't bring herself to voice such objections. She respected their opinions, even if she didn't like them.
She herself was feeling gloomy. Partly from the heavy atmosphere of the once-bright school, partly because Christmas was essentially cancelled, and partly because… she started to find the word 'monster' scrawled over her things.
The day after the Dark Vigil, Rose went to the library to work on her report about the vigil for Professor Laye's class. The library was mostly empty, but some students filtered in and out of it throughout the day as Rose worked. She wanted to get everything done so she could try to enjoy the break as best she could.
Rose worked and worked but was frequently interrupted. On many occasions she felt gazes fall upon her, some curious, and others that made her skin crawl and her stomach heave. The glares and sneers tossed her way made it difficult for the girl to concentrate. They always looked the other way or left when she returned their stares, but they kept coming back.
By lunchtime, Rose knew she wouldn't be able to finish her work in peace, so she left. She gathered her belongings, shoved them into her backpack, and quickly returned to her room. When she dumped everything back out on her bed, she found all her notebooks had the word 'monster' scrawled across the top of them.
Confusion and frustration bubbled inside the girl. Confusion at how they managed to do that when she was with her things the entire morning, and frustration that it even happened in the first place. And if they could do that without her noticing, what else were they capable of doing? She felt the heat rush to her face and her hands clenched tightly into fists as she glared at her notebooks.
I'm not a monster, Rose told herself, her palms starting to sweat.
Her nerves and anger made the girl flustered, and after another minute of staring at her notebooks indecisively, she raised her chin and turned on her heel. She marched over to her desk and rummaged through the drawers looking for some tape. Professor Nigel had kindly provided her with an abundance of school and art supplies.
She found the red-colored tape and proceeded to tape over her notebooks. She wrapped the tape around all her covers until not a single letter of the word was to be found. Then she took out her markers and doodled over them. She wasn't much of an artist, but she could do simple things like flowers or puppies or kitties. Happy things.
Things the opposite of monsters.
Rose worked on that for the rest of the day. She found it strangely pleasing and went ahead and even colored things in. She painted over one of them using her calligraphy brush, writing out the seals of joy and happiness. By the end of the day when it was time for dinner, Rose was feeling content and comfortable.
The next morning on the way to the library to return a book, her backpack split down the middle as she got off the last step on the staircase, and all her notebooks tumbled down the steps.
She heard laughter, but she never found the source. And when she recollected her things, the word 'monster' was written in white all over her notebooks again.
Rose became reluctant to leave her dorm room after that. She thought about going to Professor Nigel about it, but she didn't even know who was behind it. Sure, she had a pretty good idea it was probably someone who spoke out against her during the Dark Vigil, but that wasn't concrete. It could have easily been someone—or a lot of someones—who didn't bother publicizing their dislike towards her.
Real villains in the stories Rose read about were cunning. They weren't blatant.
Then again, this was a school and her enemies were bullies, so cunning was probably off the table. But then again—
Rose could think circles around it, but the fact of the matter was she wasn't certain who to point a finger at. She never saw anyone acting mean to her aside from glares. She was alone during the incidents, and so far, they were only targeting her things, barring the burning message she received a couple of months ago.
She honestly didn't think it would do her any good to bring it up to her kingdom advisor. Mother Mara and Father John never acted without strong proof, always citing: 'innocent until proven guilty'. Even when one of the kids from town had pelted Rose with red paint-filled balloons, nothing had been done. Rose didn't see who threw it, so no one would act.
Until Rose had proof about who was behind the rude ordeal, she didn't see much point in bringing attention to it... though a part of her was also worried that if she did, the professors wouldn't care. She didn't want that fear confirmed, her mind conjuring excuses to avoid that reality at all costs.
The gloominess of the entire school did not help these matters. Her once loud, energetic, and frequently smiling kingmates were quiet and distant.
Lanna and Galio were rarely seen around the dorm anymore, and Havi was nearly constantly locked up in her room. Philip, Havi's boyfriend, frequently brought food for her and was the only one Rose saw on a regular basis. The twins had gone into a vow of silence to honor the Dark Vigil and gave off such a somber impression that Rose felt uncomfortable to even approach them.
It was a long week until Christmas, and on the day of Christmas Eve, Rose was feeling thoroughly miserable. She went about the day with a reluctance that would put broody teenagers to shame. She ate because she had to, and then she stayed in her room and read mystery novels Philip had been kind enough to bring her. It wasn't a bad day, per se, and under better circumstances, Rose would have enjoyed it.
But the fact of the matter was that she was doing it on Christmas Eve day and knew full and well that there was nothing to look forward to neither later that night, nor tomorrow. The school would remain dreary and uncomfortable for a few more days until classes resumed after the new year. Rose would assume things went back to normal (and she hoped the bullying would stop after the Dark Vigil, too), but it still stung that she couldn't celebrate Christmas.
The ten-year-old girl grumpily stayed in her room until Galio knocked on her door a little before dinner and told her Professor Nigel wanted to see her. It didn't take long for Rose to place a bookmark in her novel and slip out of the kingdom.
Rose moved quickly through the halls, wanting to avoid being caught alone by the bullies. She didn't carry anything with her, and she didn't want to think what else they would target if they couldn't damage her belongings. She moved so fast her footsteps barely left a sound on the marble flooring, her hair whipping past her. She was nearly breathless when she finally reached Professor Nigel's classroom, and hurriedly slipped inside.
The classroom was dark, save for the moonlight pouring in that illuminated everything in a bright, ethereal glow. The art projects the classes had been working on were set aside, awaiting their finishing touches. Rose was always amazed to see some of the students' work, there were truly some talented individuals at the school and she was envious of their skill. One student was sculpting a herd of horses, mid-gallop, over a field of flowers. It was a pretty big sculpture and took up a lot of room—enough so that Professor Nigel had to enchant it to float above everything while the older student wasn't working on it—but it was awfully impressive. Rose was excited to see what it would look like finished.
There were a lot of paintings hung about—things that would be taken down at the end of the year and sent home with their owners—and it really brightened the whole room up.
Every student enjoyed Professor Nigel's class. He lectured while students worked on their artwork or classwork. No student ever had to sit still and listen to him, and all of his homework assignments centered around creativity. Even the artistically challenged (such as Rose) still enjoyed the work. There were a couple students that wrote stories, pretty descriptions, or even played music instead of painting.
The important thing was that the students were able to appropriately visualize their illusions. When classes resumed after the Dark Vigil, Professor Nigel said it would be time for the students to start practicing on each other. Rose was quite eager for that.
Golden light spilled out from below the door to Professor Nigel's office. Rose quietly moved towards it, wondering if she was supposed to knock or go ahead and enter. Rose hesitated at the dark oak door before she knocked. She heard the professor beckon her in, so she obliged.
Rose opened the door to his office, twisting the cold handle and gently pushing in. Warm light flooded her vision and Rose blinked rapidly to adjust…
A small gasp escaped her. A big, beautiful Christmas tree glowed in the center of the room, with twinkling white lights covering it and a box of ornaments sitting beside it. Professor Nigel's desk was covered in red and green decorations and plates of food: ham, mashed potatoes, biscuits, cranberries, and broccoli. His walls were covered in Christmas-themed pictures, and an illusion of snowfall covered the ceiling.
Rose's eyes were wide with wonder and disbelief.
Professor Nigel stood awkwardly by the tree, hands twisting together. "Would you like to, ah, help decorate the tree?"
Rose stared at the professor. "But—the Dark Vigil—"
"Reflecting on mistakes is good so one can learn from them, but dwelling on them only exaggerates old wounds," he said. "M-my family hosts a vigil for the lost, but w-we celebrate the living afterwards. History is important, but so is our present and future."
Rose smiled. "I think so, too."
She felt like he smiled back at her. "I know how much Christmas meant to you. I hope you don't mind celebrating it with me instead of your kingmates?"
"No—not at all, thank you. Truly, thank you."
Professor Nigel bobbed his head. "No—I mean, no need for that. Ah, why don't we finish decorating this tree, then?"
"Yes, please!"
Professor Nigel levitated a couple boxes filled with shiny ornaments. The two of them began to hang the decorations on the tree while Professor Nigel inquired about what book Rose was currently reading. Rose told him about the murder mystery series she had picked up, unintentionally gushing about it the entire time. Professor Nigel was an avid listener, always able to ask the right question to keep Rose talking.
Soon, the tree was decorated, and Nigel asked Rose to take a seat as he had something to give her before they ate. Professor Nigel placed a neatly wrapped present in Rose's hands. She stared at it, her eyes widening.
"Y-you got me a present?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes. That's what you're supposed to do, right? Did you not want it? I'm terribly sorry if I upset you—"
"No, no, no," Rose said quickly, "this is great. Thank you. I mean—yes, thank you. May I open it?"
"Go ahead."
Rose undid the green ribbon and peeled the paper apart. She could tell it was a book right away, and when she pulled it apart enough to see the cover, she let out a giggle.
If Cats Could Talk.
Flipping open to the first page, she could tell it was filled with light-hearted and warm cat-oriented jokes. It was something Rose could reread for laughter, and laughter was something she sorely craved for as of late.
She smiled brightly at the professor and said with all the sincerity she could gather, "Thank you."
He made an affirming noise. "I'm glad you like it. I thought it would be funny."
"It's perfect."
...🌹...
Rose huddled in her bed on Christmas morning, feeling better than she did waking up yesterday. Her window was the pretty picture of the biggest Christmas tree she ever saw, one straight from a movie. She guessed it was the tree from one of the big cities, like New York or Chicago, given how immaculate it was and the bits of snow covering it.
She stared at the twinkling lights, clutching onto her stuffed cat. I wonder how Mother Mara and Sister Eliza are, Rose thought.
At times she felt homesick, but it never lasted long because shortly after feeling so, she was reminded of her thrall incident. Having everyone she knew turn on her in such a manner was deeply unsettling, and Rose disliked thinking about it. If she could throw the memory entirely out of her head, she would do so in a heartbeat.
Still, it was her home for the longest time. And here, in her own privacy, Rose could admit she missed it a tiny bit. They weren't bound by blood, but Mother Mara and the Sisters did take care of her. Even if Rose never wanted to go back—not until she had complete certainty they could never shoot her again at the very least—she couldn't stop herself from missing them. Especially on Christmas Day, a day that was normally the highlight of Rose's entire year.
Rose squeezed her toy cat. I hope Mr. Whiskers is having a good Christmas.
Above all else, Rose missed her feline companion. Professor Nigel said he was taken care of and happy, but that didn't stop Rose from wishing he was there with her instead. She wished she could play in the snow with him again or hug him and feel his gentle purr tickle her.
She wished it wasn't so… dismal.
Professor Nigel's lovely Christmas Eve dinner was nice and all—Rose really appreciated it—but it was still sad that the entire school was bleak on Christmas Day. Her newfound friends were certainly dedicated to the Dark Vigil.
Does it make me a bad person that I want to enjoy Christmas? Rose thought. Everyone else can be so… sad about it. And here I am wanting them to not be sad. It's understandable to memorialize such a tragedy, but I don't think it's good to only focus on the bad things in history.
Rose laid back down in her bed, burying her face in the back of her stuffed animal. If they only think of all the bad things dragons have done, then no one will ever forgive them. Surely dragons have done good things, too?
Rose wasn't sure. There was hardly anything about her kind in the library, merely events focusing on the Dark War and the horrible things dragons have done.
But they must have done something good before the war? Rose thought. I don't want to think dragons are all bad.
But where would she even find that information?
Maybe Doctor Basileus? He said he knows about dragons. Or maybe Professor Laye, since he's the history teacher? Rose rolled over. Would it be okay to ask, though?
Rose wasn't certain one way or the other. A lot of the teachers appeared to be understanding and nice to her, but maybe that was only because they had to be. Maybe they still didn't like dragons and would be upset if Rose asked about the good things the dragons had done—
Or maybe they're genuinely nice people and would be completely okay if I asked?
That's what Rose wanted to believe, but a part of her kept doubting it. At the very least, Rose could wait until the whole Dark Vigil mess was over and people stopped glaring at her.
Rose let out a yawn, suddenly feeling very tired and heavy. She was thankfully still in bed and didn't have to get up for breakfast any time soon. Between one blink and the next, she slipped away into her dreams.
...🌹...
Rose was where she left off in the dead garden.
To her surprise, however, there was a bit of color to it now. It was still dulled—and so very obviously dead—but she could see the barest hint of green on the leaves. Rose stretched out a hand to one of the flowers, and as her fingers barely grazed the petals, a voice whispered to her, I wouldn't do that.
Rose jerked back in surprise, looking around to find the source of that voice. It was a familiar voice—one that she had heard on and off throughout her entire life, but more recently, one that she had associated with the castle.
What's the castle doing here? Am I at school, then? Rose thought.
A sound of flapping wings from above caused Rose to look up. A big gray crow circled overhead.
Rose stretched her hand up towards the crow, and with gentle grace, it landed on her fist. Its talons dug into her skin, but Rose couldn't feel any pain. It cocked its head.
How long I have wanted to meet with you in person, my dear. Next time, though.
"Next—"
The dream changed.