"That's what you'll be wearing?" Arabella eyed Saylor up and down, a frown on her face. Saylor gazed down at her Blackwater uniform.
"What about it?" Saylor asked innocently with a mild pout. "It looks fine to me."
"Whatever," Arabella laughed, suddenly uninterested. She grabbed her black purse from her desk, and sauntered over to their bedroom door, her lacey black dress flowing behind her as she went. "Come on, Goldilocks. The others are waiting."
The two roommates traipsed out of their dorm and promptly found their way to the Demonology Commons, where their classmates were waiting for them. The space was beautiful but humble in size. There were ornately carved wooden frames of landscapes and important figures around the room and a flowery-patterned crimson carpet under the black leather couches by the fireplace. The air smelled faintly of burning incense, and the lights were set on dim, gently illuminating the cozy space.
"Why is she wearing that?" Solaris frowned when his gaze landed on Saylor. Solaris was wearing a black buttoned-up blouse with rose designs embroidered in dark purple. Saylor opened her mouth to defend herself but couldn't utter a word before Arabella spoke.
"Halfbreed things," she said as if it were obvious. She flung her long black hair behind her shoulders and pursed her lips with distaste as her eyes landed back on Saylor.
Saylor avoided Arabella's devious gaze and joined her friendly-faced friend instead.
"Looking good, Arun," she said. Arun looked down at his simple brown cardigan atop his even simpler beige button-up.
"Oh this?" he began with a sheepish smile but couldn't finish his thought before Zian beckoned everyone's attention.
"Let's go," he said impatiently, his dark eyes roving over at the outfits that his peers were wearing. Everyone was wearing something formal, and then there was Saylor, still wearing the Blackwater uniform — but Zian couldn't be bothered to say anything about it. "It's dawn already."
Zian was wearing a coal-black suit with the top of his black chemise opened-up, flaunting his many tattoos. He promptly escorted his classmates out of their faculty's commons and into the grand hallways of the Dormitory Building.
"What's the big deal with Grigor's parties anyway? It seems he's always throwing them," Saylor said to Arun as they traipsed down the corridors.
"Grigor's just an old sorcerer who was known for throwing phenomenal parties at this school. It got to the point where anytime anyone threw a party they would dub it Grigor's party so people would come — otherwise it wasn't as appealing. Even when Grigor graduated, they kept the name. It sort of became a tradition now," Arun explained. Saylor nodded though she wasn't sure she fully understood the reasoning behind it all.
The Alchemy Commons was not too far away. Soon, the alluring smell of alchemical solutions hit their nostrils, and the pleasant sound of classical music accompanied by the chattering of students reached their ears. The five of them delighted themselves at the sight of the Alchemy commons.
It was one of the largest faculties at Blackwater University, and they got so much funding from past graduates that they could grace themselves with such opulence.
There were magnificent grand tapestries hanging on the walls, along with an impressive collection of paintings, and tall windows with regal lavender curtains. The space was ornamented with soft sparkling lighting, and there were tables with cakes, pies, and many other sweets, as well as chocolate fountains, fruit platters, breads, and a broad selection of cheese.
Arabella lifted the punch spoon as if about to serve herself a cup, but instead, she smelled the swirling solution.
"Hmm. Those alchemist freaks have a purpose, after all. About time too. I was just beginning to wonder what their utility in our society was," Arabella said snarkily.
"Is it just you who's an insufferable prick, Arabella, or is everyone from the Demonology program an arse like you?" said a tall and dark young man. He wore a dark purple blouse with frills. Gold jewelry adorned his neck, arms, and pointy ears. He smirked with playful contempt at Arabella.
"Definitely just her," Arun chimed in. The alchemist laughed derisively.
"Well, at least none of us are studying divination," Solaris jumped in, his eyebrows dancing disdainfully at the pack of seers standing by the entrance. A few glanced back at Solaris and sneered from afar.
"Careful. I bet they saw that you would say that," the alchemist added.
The others laughed along with him, except for Saylor who stood by rather awkwardly, not understanding what was so wrong with being a seer. Zian, on the other hand, was too busy scanning the crowd to pay too much attention to the conversation.
"Who's the Blonde?" The alchemist asked suddenly, pointing at the quiet Saylor whose eyes widened slightly from the sudden attention.
"Oh, Goldilocks? She's no one. Just some halfbreed the Uni decided was worth admitting for some unholy reason," Arabella said breezily.
The alchemist gave Arabella a disapproving look, then turned to Saylor and said, "Don't worry. Most of us don't care for half-human sorcerers that much. You're one of us. And technically, we're all related to humans if we go back long enough. Ignore Arabella. She's just salty because her ex—"
Arabella punched the alchemist on the arm, interrupting him in his speech.
"Shut up, weirdo — I know what you put in the fruit punch," she said, threatening him with the knives in her glare.
"Shhhhhh! Not so loud, idiot," the alchemist hissed. He turned back to Saylor and clarified, "Don't worry. It's nothing incriminating. Though, I'd recommend staying away from it for the time being. You'll see why in due time — Oh, I'm Mars, by the way. Alchemist."
"Booorriiinngg! His real name is Prince Mars. What a pisser. Tryna look like everybody else," Arabella interrupted playfully, though there was a hint of venom in her tone.
"Hey, I am like everybody else. And I'm no prince. Stop telling people that," Mars insisted.
Saylor was a bit confused but introduced herself, nonetheless, "I'm Saylor. Nice to meet you, Mars."
Arabella scrunched her nose at Mars who smiled delightfully at Saylor.
"Come with me, Saylor. I'll fix your clothes in the washroom," Arabella said, suddenly linking arms with Saylor. Saylor looked down at her Blackwater uniform in puzzlement but allowed Arabella to drag her out of the main floor anyway.
The washroom was nearby enough that Arabella only had to nudge three people on the way.
"Move," she snapped at a pointy-eared girl that was re-applying her makeup in the mirror. The girl opened her mouth to protest but then she linked eyes with Arabella's intense and threatening glower. As soon as the girl left, Arabella looked back at Saylor. "Sit."
"Sorry?" Saylor said, puzzled. Arabella was gesturing at a countertop in front of a mirror.
"Sit here," she repeated, this time with a modicum of gentleness to her tone. Saylor acquiesced, though reluctantly.
"Now. I'm gonna need you to listen to me very carefully because you have a lot to learn about our culture if you want to survive. First off, you can't go to a sorcerer party wearing the school uniform — it's just odd. You want to impress the people here by dressing up and by pampering yourself. Even just a little bit may can go a long way — You may find potential contacts for the future in parties like this one — or even a mate," Arabella added with slight disgust. She was shuffling through her handbag in search of her emergency eyeliner. "Now, I will fix you up for free — Do not thank me," she said just as Saylor parted her lips. "I'm doing this because I care about the reputation of our program. I can't be seen around you if you don't take care of your appearance. It makes me look bad. Besides..."
Arabella trailed off as she immediately began using her eyeliner on Saylor's eyes. She was most focused, her hand as steady as a rock. Saylor remained quiet, her blue eyes darting around the washroom to take a good look at its lavishness.
The bathroom stalls were tall and white, and the lilac walls were adorned with paintings of seashells, ocean waves, and mermaids. A vase of blue flowers sat on the countertop right next to Saylor.
"Besides… it may go in our favour if you win the approval of Mars," Arabella cut through her previous silence, pulling herself away from Saylor as she admired her work of art. Saylor's eyes were now decorated with winged eyeliner and small hearts.
"Is he really a Prince? I don't understand how the royalty works in this world," Saylor admitted rather sheepishly. Arabella narrowed her eyes are Saylor, shaking her head.
"Of course you don't," Arabella huffed, though she had a lighthearted smile tugging at her lips. "He is not royalty per say, but his family are known descendants of a very ancient royal fairy family."
"Aren't we all descendants of fairies, though?" Saylor pointed out.
"We are. But not all of us are connected to fairy royalty. Most of us don't even know which lineage we came from since our race emerged thousands of years ago," Arabella explained. She surprisingly had a patient look on her face for someone who always acted annoyed with Saylor for not knowing sorcerer facts.
"So… Is it possible to be related to a royal fairy family without knowing about it?" Saylor questioned. Arabella actually laughed.
"Are you hoping to discover you're fairy royalty?" Arabella derided mockingly. Saylor rolled her eyes. "No. We would know since every royal fairy family keeps track of their lineage, sorcerer or not – Even if adultery is involved. They have blood magic to figure these things out."
"That's fascinating… I wonder if I could one day meet my fairy family," Saylor mused.
"Don't get so excited. Fairies don't see us as family. They couldn't care less about us. They still view us as an entirely different race, much like how humans did during the Salem Witch Trials. All we've got is other sorcerers. The only reason royal fairies even care about their lineage is because they seem to have deluded themselves into thinking that their blood is more magical and some other nonsense."
"You know, Arabella," Saylor began. The raven-haired sorcerer raised an anticipating eyebrow at her. "You're awfully sweet for someone who acts like they hate me."
Arabella blinked.
"I don't hate you," she scoffed, her forehead scrunching in bemusement. "And don't ever call me sweet. That is disgusting." She grimaced as if saying the word was enough to make her gag.
"Alright, then," Saylor surrendered, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
"Now, get down. I'll fix your clothes," Arabella said at once.
Saylor nodded and hopped off the counter. Arabella scrutinized the Blonde's clothes, her eyes narrowing as she mentally skimmed through all the possible solutions.
"Don't move," she ordered. Saylor stood as immobile as she could.
Arabella waved her hand and dark glistening smoke shimmered from her palm until it reached her fingertips. At last, the smoke reached Saylor's bodice, slithering to cover her clothes entirely in black. Saylor's blouse and blazer shifted, wriggled, and tightened around her skin as it adjusted to its new form. When the shapeshifting was complete, Saylor felt around her body at the new style of clothes hugging her. It was softer than before and weighed much lighter on her shoulders than her Blackwater uniform did.
"There. Looks much better," Arabella said pleasantly.
Saylor turned to look in the mirror. The first thing that struck her were the dark wings and hearts Arabella had drawn around her eyes. Next, were the utterly altered state of her clothes. She wasn't wearing the school uniform anymore. Instead, Saylor was wearing a slim-fitted charcoal-black button-up, with an equally black blazer with a more feminine shape than her uniform. Her slacks had also tightened more around her thighs, while the fabric loosened around the ankles. This looked like a set of clothes that Arabella would wear. Formal, sexy, and fashionable.
"Again, don't thank me," Arabella reminded her awe-struck classmate.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Saylor replied, though she couldn't stop herself from admiring her reflection in the mirror.