There were plenty of things Circe wished to have asked Elven as the car treaded along the winding wet road. Cold dew was already starting to form on the frozen windows, a testament to Avalium's gray dismal weather. The cold dew circulated into Circe's heart as he tried to figure out who Elven was, where he came from, and what he know regarding Avalium University. So many questions rang in his head but none of them came through. His lips appeared to be magically sealed. By the time he had tried to open it, they had already arrived at the building.
The residency of the Brixons was a tall, gothic architecture that looked as if it belonged in the Victorian era. The building was sculpted in fancy baroque fashion and it stood lavishly grim. An ebony bat that had been perched on the home screeched angrily and flew away.
Circe harrowingly followed Elven to the front door and waited eagerly as he knocked. It was a pretty fruitless endeavor, Circe thought, knowing the Brixons. They probably wouldn't pick up. Silent cool breaths filled the frigid air. Circe's heart was pounding, but he didn't really know why, he lived there.
"Did the Brixons know you were leaving?" Elven asked. His elfish ears were wriggling. Circe tried not to stare at it for too long.
Circe nodded curtly. "Something like that." It probably would've been less troublesome to have gone quietly. But that unfateful morning hadn't been planned, it had just…happened.
"Did you say anything to them before you left—anything at all?"
Circe froze for a moment. "I-I don't remember." He did of course. He had flung two middle fingers at Mr. Brixon and told him to stick it in. That impetuous act would've surely awarded him two days with no food had he been leashed into the house. But it wouldn't have made a difference, it's not like they fed him anyway.
There was another fidgeting silence that credited the air. Circe was hoping the Brixons wouldn't open the door, but at the same time didn't really have any other option as to where he would stay. A fuming indignation swirled in Circe's head.
"What you did today won't be left unchecked by the media. People will know who you are and what you did Circe. Some people…well, just bear in mind that some people out there don't really like monsters," Elven froze, as if carefully swallowing the next words to say. Circe tried not to bare his teeth, the elf wasn't making him feel any better. "Even if you are a hero. As many times you save their butts over and over again they won't ever really appreciate it because people tend to not be around things that make them uneasy. Especially if it's something as unnatural as a monster."
"Fuck off!" Circe folded his hands. "I didn't ask to be who I am, ok?" He hated having to stand there, interrogated. Castigated for something he had no control over and for something that haunted his every waking hour. It wasn't fair.
Elven frowned, a flash of anger flew past his face. "I'm not saying this to scold you, Circe. It's just a warning. When you get to school, some of the people there won't be very welcoming towards you. Not because of who you are personally, but what you are. I beg you, please, don't let them get to you. Keep your chin up and be yourself. Will you promise me that?"
Circe looked away sullenly. "Whatever."
The carved black door swung open. A tall paperwhite man with lines on his face and shadows behind his eyes stood before them. He was dressed in a slim dark suit, and just like Elven, appeared rather grim by his stature alone. Everything about this man was thematically consistent except for his large mannish hands. He was the best excuse for a zombie with a suit that Circe had ever seen.
Mr. Brixon moved aside to allow the other Brixons to step into the gray light. Mrs. Brixon, a tall spiderlike woman with oddly flat red lips stood beside her husband, pursing her lips disapprovingly as if she was looking at dung. She had the same ghostly pallor as Mr. Brixon but seemed a tad bit more emotionless and gaunt than Mr. Brixon, if that was even possible.
Cassandra Brixon, the oldest of the four, was somewhat short and curvy with really round protruding breasts. She was in her teens and she carried the same white screening complexion and oily black hair as the Brixons. Her eyes were gleaming, her arms folded, and she was leaning against the wall scowling at Circe.
The next two children were two black-haired twins, Ryland and Roland, who were pale as well but had a rosy red tinge smeared up their cheeks and buck teeth. If you had met them for the first time, you would've assumed they had gotten slapped. A look of utter indifference was glued to their faces. They stood lumber still, blinking unemotionally.
The final child, Damian, a chubby black kid who wore a striped black shirt, was staring back and forth between the Brixons and Elven, hopelessly confused. He was thirteen, a year younger than the twins, and second in line to being the youngest. Circe, the smallest and youngest, of the four, stared back defiantly.
"What is this invasion? What do you want?" Mr. Brixon asked. His steely gray eyes landed bitterly over Circe and then moved back to Elven.
"I'm David Elvengaard, former Shadower from Avalium University and assistant to the Avalium Police Department." Elven pompously flashed the silver-plated Alma Mater badge into the gray-white light. "I believe twelve years ago I sent this boy to be taken under your wings. But as my discoveries have turned out, you weren't as faithful as I thought you'd be in nurturing this boy. The sheer disappointment..." Circe waited. There was a razor-sharp silence. Elven flashed a curly grin and rubbed his chin. "Boy oh boy, do I smell trouble."
Cassandra shuddered, her dark oily eyebrows raised. Mr. and Mrs. Brixon stood strangely rigid, like gaping shadowy ravens on a cold night. Mr. Brixon wiped his nose.
"To find this boy fending for himself on the streets, unfed and unprotected. Now, that's just foul behavior, really. I didn't expect you guys to be nice to him, but some human decency, a note of unbridled charity would've been enough. Now listen, here's what's—"
"I don't want that demon dwelling in my house! And I don't appreciate some elfish fool telling me so either! " Mr. Brixon spat. "Yes, I know what he is, we saw the news, and I've heard the things he's said in his sleep. You've got another damn thing coming if-if–that insidious monstrosity is going to come crawling into my–" Mr. Brixon couldn't find his words. Something had happened. He appeared to be rasping, choking. He was now grabbing his neck, strenuously tugging. Cassandra shrieked and Mrs. Brixon shook him and pounded him on his back.
Mrs. Brixon instantly let go as Mr. Brixon was raised into the air and slammed against the wall. He struggled more and more, vainly trying to choke out some words as his rectangular face tinged in pink. Blood spluttered out of his thin gray lips and his eyes appeared to be popping out of his socket, it almost appeared like they were going to fall out. Veins inched out from his neck and wormed all the way to his face. Circe grinned.
Elven, who had his hands splayed out, golden ring trembling on his finger, shouted, "You will take this boy in under the provision of time he has left. You will do as you're told or you and your pathetic family will die right here and now. Nod if you understand—you don't have long."
Mr. Brixon strained for a nod, veins popping out of his temple. For a moment he thought he was gonna be blind, he thought his head was going to pop, but then an invisible force relinquished its wrath.
"I'm glad we could see eye to eye on this. And if you fail to uphold your promise, just remember that I'll be watching you. My eyes never rest. This boy—" Elven poked his long-nailed finger at Circe, "—this boy won't be seeing you for some quite time, so you better respect him. Mark my word, Brixon, there will come a time when you and this family will need him and he won't be there."
Like an elfish bat, he turned swiftly at Circe. "I'll be seeing you on the fifteenth. Keep an eye out for that mail…It's very important that you read it, don't be negligent." The blonde, elfish man whipped around and vanished into the cold thin air.
As soon as Elven left, Circe had somewhat anticipated that the Brixon's rancorous opinion of him would somewhat begin to soften. But things had taken a whole different direction.
The walls inside the Brixons were velvety red with tiny embellishments of bats for decor. Plush sofas in blood red and midnight black sat in the living room. A massive plasma screen tv clung to the walls. The house had a spiral staircase that snailed up to the three rooms where the children and the Brixons slept. A tiny closet stood in reserve in the narrow hallway between the kitchen and the bathroom. It had a tiny dim light crackling inside and mangy spiders were crawling out of it. This was where Circe slept.
When they had scrambled inside, Circe felt two mannish hands grapple him by his chest and slam him against the wall. A sharp punch stabbed him through his ribs. Two more buffeted his face.
"Eugh!" Circe sputtered. Snot and spit were dribbling from his nose and black patches were beginning to emerge from his weak vision. Beneath his eye, a purple ring began to crescent.
"Who do you think you are, humiliating me like that? Do you think I would just stand there like an imbecile while he abused me like that—does he not know who I am? You thought that was funny, huh?"
"No!" Circe pleaded. A metallic taste was encroaching on his tongue. His thin knobbly knees were shaking.
"Vi—Cassandra, grab him behind the arms. Send him to the bathroom."
Mrs. Brixon automatically rose to the occasion but Cassandra hesitated for a moment before swooping behind the trembling kid's arm and dragging him to the bathroom. The boys followed eagerly, sinking behind the shadows. Mr. Brixon grabbed Circe's snowy hair and slammed his head onto the kitchen sink four times. Scarlet blood leaked down Circe's head and a huge purple wart earthed up.
Circe vomited. The twins' satisfied howls of laughter echoed through the bathroom, Cassandra chipped in. It seemed nobody was coming to rescue Circe this time. He felt extremely weak.
He could just turn, but he knew he shouldn't. Something in the back of his mind forced him not to. Perhaps it was Elven. Or those doggish cops.
The sink water gushed in and Circe's head was plunged into the basin, wetting his deformed face. The angry hands pulled his head back up—
"If I ever see you laugh at me or disrespect me in my own house again, I'll be sure to kill you—you got that night creature?" Mr. Brixon growled.
"What did I ever do to you?" Circe panted nervously.
Mr. Brixon's steely gray eyes furrowed.
Circe often wondered why Mr. Brixon was such a hateful creature. But of course, if he knew the truth, it wouldn't be so simple. Mr. Brixon had his reasons, just as anyone did, and his began forty years ago at the age of thirteen.
When he was young, his father was quite strict and severe. He expected Vyron Brixon to get the best marks in his classes, to do as he was told, to clean around the house every day of every waking hour, to speak properly, to dress properly, and to learn how to cook meals from five star restaurants. He was restricted from having any friends because he wanted his son to serve him and be someone important. He was restricted from smiling and laughing because Wendell Brixon himself was a tainted bitter man. If he came home from school with bad marks, an attitude, or any sign of a budding friendship, Vyron Brixon would get a severe beating in the bathroom and then he would be thrown in the shower where he would be beaten some more.
Vyron was beaten so many times that his nose started to become dysfunctional. It would always drool snot and Vyron would always be sneezing in class a lot. Because of his repulsive nose, a lot of kids strayed away from him and took him as a clown. No girls ever spoke to him from seventh grade and on and he never made any friends.
His mother never did anything to remedy any of his sufferings. It seemed that life in Avalium had gotten insidiously darker the older he got. In those times there were rising crime rates in the city and a thousand whispers of occultic, mythological creatures sneaking into the city to ensure diabolical havoc. Not a lot of people survived in the days of Vyron Brixon, including his own father, who died from a severe sickness caused by The Green Eel. It wasn't until Vyron had gotten out of college that he could truly appreciate his death. It was truly the happiest moment of his life.
Mr. Brixon never attended his father's funeral, and whenever he did visit his graveyard, he spat on it. After the death of Wendell Brixon, Vyron's mother had gone insane and had to be institutionalized. He hasn't visited her since that day. Brixon eventually found a decent accounting job and married Violet Brixon. Over the years, together, they promised to form a foster home where they would bully and harass adopted children as capital for their own shortcomings. Once every three months, a child care agent would come to inspect the place and Mr. Brixon would force everyone to act normal or somebody would get severely beaten.
Mr. Brixon's raven-like countenance hardened. "Send him to his closet." He snapped. "Nobody will speak to this boy or feed him. If you do, you won't be eating for a whole week. Do I make myself clear? Good, now buck up!"
Circe was vigorously dragged into the tiny narrow closet near the kitchen. The door slammed shut and he was back alone with the crinkly spiders and the dampened luminance of the golden lamp. A slice of a moth-bitten slice of bread reeked beside him. A meal that he hadn't bothered to touch for nine days.
For the rest of the week, Circe stayed holed up in his closet with nothing but his cold imagination and the scurrying spiders to keep him company.
On one stuffy Wednesday, as he snuck out to go to the bathroom he heard a weird screaming noise upstairs and the rocking of a bed. It sounded like Cassandra. He wanted to go upstairs the better to hear it, but Mrs. Brixon had been watching him closely and it scared him off. But as he rested on his dusty blanket, crushing a fleeing spider with his head, a slimy thought crept into Circe's mind about what had gone on in that bedroom.
Two days later on a Friday, Cassandra appeared at the closet. She looked rather bare with her bra and dress robes on. Her dark gothic eyeliner appeared to have smeared against her pale contour. What had she been crying on about?
A special animosity glinted inside of Circe, one reserved just for Cassandra. She had always been the best treated in the house.
"What do you want?" Circe asked. He couldn't keep his eyes off her breast and there was a strange lump that danced in between his legs.
"Mason might be coming home today. I don't want you to pick up the door."
Mason Weatherby was Cassandra's boyfriend, one in a myriad list of other drones that she's dated. She also invited some friends over from time to time, but those were often rare. Circe grumbled. These ersatz connections didn't mean anything to him.
"Why should I care?"
"Because you're the closest to the door, dumbass." Cassandra pursed her milky white lips. "So you're actually gonna be going to that demon school, huh…Mr. Brixon told me about it."
A vague interest danced in her smoky eyes. From a distance she was looking more and more like a haunted porcelain doll. Circe shrugged nonchalantly. "Ok."
"Why?" she went on. "You don't even know these people or that Elven man."
"Because you're my number one fan Cassandra," and he shut the door in her face.
Fuming, Circe thought about running again. Making a quick escape. No one would have to know…except for Elven and the whole gang of cops that had swarmed him earlier. Would they arrest him for real if they found him floundering the streets again? And what about Elven, if he found him, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
The door did indeed knock that evening but Circe almost didn't open it. It probably had to do with the fact that being a slave for Cassandra didn't feel so good. But Circe was incredibly bored and he hadn't eaten anything besides the thin block of cheese and slice of bread that was thrown at him the night before. So out of a vague curiosity, he went to open the door.
Circe cried out loud and fell on his butt.
Standing before him was a short gangly one-eyed goblin with wide batlike ears and a crimson red cap. He had prickly green skin and some warts popped out in strange places on his face. The little creature grinned devilishly. He had been carrying a large flappy package in his hand and behind him was a black van with a purple eye imprinted on the side.
"Who is it? What's going on?" barked Mr. Brixon's brutish voice.
"Nothing!" Circe shouted. "I was using the bathroom and I slipped. I think I'm bleeding."
A satisfying silence crossed the vale. Circe slowly shut the door.
"Greetings! I'm Golluck Redcap, former mail goblin of Avalium University. Am I speaking to Circe Chimer, 5540 Gibbons Street, Avalium, Massachusetts, USA?"
"Yeah?" Circe was wondering how best to poke the goblin's eye. It didn't seem to want to blink.
"A package from the university, for you. Enthralling, isn't it, sending packages?" The wheezy goblin handed Circe the package, squeaked excitedly, and then scampered off into his black van. Astonished, Circe watched the van engine away and disappear into the thin air by black smoke.
Circle walked back inside the house and crammed himself into the closet with the flabby package in his hands. There was an icon of a large silver A on it and in between the letter was the familiar gleaming purple eye. Was this truly the symbol the school used? How did it not frighten the students away?
Circe tore the package open. The first thing that met his eyes was the small spiral-bound notebook with the tired symbol of the eye on it, but this time it read "Avalium University" engraved in purple ink with white outlining. Then he pulled out a black suit with a black and purple striped tie. The school uniform had a crest with the letters M, H, S, and M encircling an eye.
The last item that tumbled out was a shiny golden ring which happened to have fit perfectly on Circe's finger. He didn't feel anything when he put it on and thought perhaps he needed to be trained on how to use it. Circe picked up the school manual and quickly rifled through the pages. There were a bunch of strange school rules and images that he had never seen before. His eyes widened as it landed back on the first page.
Avalium University Handbook and School Manual
Welcome first years to a pearly new year of Avalium University. We are very excited to have you. It is within our opulent trust that we believe you have signed a contract with your recruiter and you are now receiving this package. Within it, you will find your school uniform, your channeling ring, and this thrifty handbook. We trust that you will keep it safe and not lose it before you board the campus. Now, let's get on with some of the basics that you need to know about Avalium University.
Length of your studies: If you plan on getting an associate degree, (aka a standard education) as a Shadower, the required duration would be six years, then afterward you can either choose to graduate or transfer to another college of your choice. If you plan on getting a bachelor's degree (aka an advanced education) at Avalium, we require you to stay for ten years, and if you plan on continuing your Shadowers education to get a master's degree (aka a master's education then the requirement is that you would study at Avalium for thirteen years. Students with advanced or master's degrees tend to get hired more by the Crime and Law department to fight off really dangerous monsters. Most students in Avalium choose to stay for thirteen years and your recruiter would most likely have opted you in for thirteen years unless otherwise stated.
Circe slapped his head. Why hadn't he mentioned to Elven how long he would be studying at Avalium? How could it have possibly gone over his head? Thirteen grueling years, would he even make it through the first?
Safety: It's no surprise that Avalium is not only notorious for its monstrous students but also for its dangerous lessons and activities. Which is why you had signed a contract with your recruiter discussing the terms and conditions of getting on board to Avalium. Even though we do have medical professionals on site, we can only go so far in the healing of your woeful lesions and injuries. Avalium is not responsible for any fatal injuries and deaths that occur on the campus, for more information refer to p.27 of your handbook, or call the number on the back at p.53. Please call your medical insurance if you end up getting severely injured, this is probably the best alternative.
The Avaluation: The Avaluation is how we sort our students into their RCS houses. By school board laws, we can't divulge the process, so it's best you show up on the first day to find out.
Class System: At Avalium University we have four different houses that we call RCS, which stands for Residential College System. Depending on which RCS House you're sorted in will determine your classes. The four are Monster, Hero, Sorcerer, and Mecha.
Monster: If you are sorted into Monster at the Avaluation, then that means you're able to transform into some type of monster at will. You will sleep and hang out in the Monster Center with your fellow classmates and the classes you will usually take are Monster Studies, Monster History, Monster Transformation, Hero Studies, and Tech Studies. Magic Studies and Monster Languages (optional) won't be available to you until your second year. In your later years, you will work closely with the Avalium police department to solve crimes and fight monsters. You guys will tackle on the most monster assignments. If you are sorted in Monster you show boldness, keenness, mischief, curiosity, cleverness, ambition, and independence. Your colors are purple and black and you tend to get along best with Sorcerers.
Hero: If you are sorted into Hero at the Avaluation, then that means you have an inherent superpower that you're able to control with your body (superstrength, superspeed, superfreeze, acid spitting, telekinesis, teleportation, invisibility, great agility, etc.) Your powers are completely holistic, unlike the sorcerer's channeled powers. But sometimes the powers can be a hazy mixture of the sorcerer's, so you'll either end up in Hero or Sorcerer. If you are sorted into Hero you show leadership, nobility, brave of heart, charity, and virtue. You will sleep and hang out in the Hero Center. Your classes will usually be Hero Studies, Transformation Studies, Psych and Morality Studies, Monster Studies, and Tech Studies. Sorcerer Studies and Garment Studies (optional) won't be available to you until your second year. Law Studies won't be available until your third year. In your later years, you guys will lead and complete monster assignments and you will work closely with the president and the senators. Your colors are yellow and black and you tend to get along best with Mechas.
Sorcerer: If you are sorted into Sorcerer at the Avaluation, that means we have deemed that you inherit magical blood. Most of the sorcerers here at Avalium University channel their powers best with their hands, and because of this, your ring is the most important asset to you than it is to the other three RCS houses. It best helps channel your powers more than the other RCS categories, so it's best not to lose them. Your powers can range from anything just as long as they're conjured by a spell or a silspell. You'll usually sleep and hang out in the Sorcerer Center. Your classes will be Magic Studies, Magic History, Transformation Studies, Monster Studies, and Hero Studies. Tech Studies, Sorcerer's Literature, and Creation Studies (optional) won't be available to you until your second year. In your later years, you will work alongside the monsters and the police department to solve crimes and fight monsters. Your traits are skillfulness, ambition, sacrifice, mischief, wickedness, and cleverness. You have the most extensive and rigorous classes out of the four RCS houses and your exams tend to be more complex. Your colors are red and black and you tend to get along best with Monsters.
Mecha: If you're sorted into Mecha at the Avaluation then that means you have the ability to control technology or turn into any kind of android or robot at will. Most mechas also tend to know how to heal and usually work closest with medical professionals in hospitals. You'll usually sleep and hang out in the Tech Center and your classes will usually be Tech Studies, Tech Medicine, Tech Tools, Hero Studies, and Monster Studies. Magic Studies and Android Studies (optional) won't be available until your second year. In your later years, you'll most likely be working in hospitals and healing Monsters, Sorcerers, and Heroes. If you're sorted into Mecha, your traits are intelligence, innovativeness, resourcefulness, quietness, perfectionist, nurturing, kind, and empathetic. Your colors are blue and black and you tend to get along with Heroes.
Certifications: At Avalium, we offer an associate's, bachelor's, and master's degree (as mentioned above). By the time you graduated you will have earned a degree in Monsterology. If you successfully graduate a full year at Avalium, you get awarded an Alma Mater badge. When it comes to grading exams we grade by cum laude, magna cum laude, and summa cum laude.
Alma Mater: This is a badge that's awarded to you at the end of your first completed year at Avalium University. This badge lets people know you attend Avalium University and grants you certain perks such as free food for life, immunity from getting arrested, access to any products from stores, restaurants, factories, and easy accessibility to judicial courts and prisons, and the authority to work with cops and fight monsters.
Cum Laude: This seal is a basic passing grade that we award you on your tests, midterm exams, and final exams.
Magna Cum Laude: This seal is an advanced passing grade that we award you on your tests, midterm, and final exams. This seal shows you have an above average knowledge on the topic you were taught.
Summa Cum Laude: This seal is a perfect or above perfect passing grade that we award you on tests, midterms, and final exams. This seal shows exemplary and exceptional status on your test scores and the content you were taught.
Detentions/Tardiness: If you are late to class, caught in a fight, or reprimanded by a professor you will be sent to the dungeons for detention. Your corrections will be monitored by Dragos, our dungeon keeper. It's best not to get him too angry.
Avalium Faculty: We hire many professors and housekeepers as part of our staff. You will find that many of our housekeepers and cooks are goblins and many of our professors are highly trained magical beings (typically elves or sorcerers). For each of your house, you will receive a senior member and a head member.
Senior Member: The senior member is typically an older student who is in charge of your RCS house when the head member is absent or busy. You will get to meet your house's senior member when you arrive at the campus.
Head Member: The head member is an adult or professor who is in charge of running your RCS house. You will meet him/her when you arrive at the campus.
Associate Dean: Our associate dean is Professor Sempra Warwick, who is the Sorcerer's head member and also teaches Magical Studies.
Dean: The dean of Avalium University is currently Professor Oswald Zenithclad.
Buildings/Institutions: We have multiple buildings on site and they all serve different purposes. They are the Grand Pavillion, Darkplenty Dining Hall, Gobshollow Hall, Avalium Health, Avalium Services Center, Monster Center, Hero Center, Sorcerer Center, and Tech Center. Refer to pg. 18 for more information about these locations.
Graduation: Upon successfully completing thirteen years of your education, you will have successfully become a Shadower and have earned a degree in Monsterology.
Contact: If you wish to speak to us, we are the Avalium University Fates, and we work in Human Resources at the Avalium Service Center. Our number is +1 666-666-6666. Refer to pg. 39 for more information.
Flip to the next page to read about Avalium University's founding.
Circe felt as if he had read enough. Perhaps he would read some more some other time or when he got to the school. He laid down on his dirt moth-bitten mattress and sighed. It all sounded very promising, and yet he was still anxious. The only trouble was, he didn't understand what he was so anxious about. The Monster bus would be coming to pick him up two days from now, but he didn't really feel like he belonged at a university.
Circe grunted in his hunger. Mason never even bothered to show up that day.
The next day found Circe incredibly hungry. His stomach had been growling nonstop. When the sudden blackness of night fell on Gibbons Street, Circe went to the living room to find that the Brixons were sitting at a large mahogany table enjoying a massive convivial feast of turkey, chicken legs, roast beef, crispy seasoned shrimp, and some nice chunky broth. Circe stomach nearly pulled him forward and insisted he eat, but he held back. He knew why the Brixons were doing this. They knew tomorrow night he was going to be leaving and they wanted to make his night as miserable as possible.
"Oh hello Circe, we're just enjoying a quiet dinner. Would you like some?" Mr. Brixon feignedly asked, gleefully tearing off a chicken leg.
"Haven't eaten all day, have you?" Cassandra asked. The twins and the fat boy laughed, relishing at the moment.
"Well we can't starve him, can we Vyron?" Mrs. Brixon purred.
"That's right."
Mrs. Brixon threw a small plate with a block of cheese and soggy bread at Circe's feet. "Here, you filthy mutt! Now get out of our sight!" Mrs. Brixon hissed. Circe ran back to his closet, blubbering heavy tears.