Expelled from her old school for a crime she didn't commit, Ivy must gain the trust of the High Pack at Ridgeview Academy to stop her new home from going up in flames.
Season 2 of Witchfire
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Warning: this chapter features themes of self harm. Reader discretion is advised.
───── Piper ─────
Something was amiss; there was a hint of blood on the breeze. I let my senses take over as I navigated the stretch of forest Colden summoned me to, straining them for any clue to an enemy's location, careful to avoid noisy branches with each footfall.
When Colden came into sight, I hesitated by the edge of the clearing he occupied, taking a moment to simply look at him. In moments like these, I couldn't believe he was only eighteen. He stared death in the face without even the slightest tremor, back straight and shoulders squared as he surveyed the crime scene.
At his feet was the corpse of a teenage girl. Dark blood pooled around her mutilated wrists and seeped into the undergrowth, creating a marshy area just shy of Colden's boots. Her sandy hair sprawled across the roots of the nearby tree that pillowed her head, as if she were sleeping. Her small, upturned nose had gone blue at the tip, and the mouth that used to smile shyly at me in the hallways was hanging open, revealing a stomach-turning glimpse of a bloating tongue.
"Amber," I identified her, stepping forward to get a better look at the former student. I'd only known her in passing, but she'd made a respectable impression despite belonging to the lower ranks. The seventeen-year-old had been remarkably studious, and even made an income tutoring some of Ridgeview's senior VCE students. As one of our many resident orphans, Amber had no family to rely on after graduation, and so I'd always attributed her passion for education to a desire to be self-sufficient.
She was far beyond her studies now. Amber's eyes looked oddly deflated as they stared into nothing, reminding me eerily of a fish sleeping with its eyes open. They held my attention for so long that I almost didn't see the murder weapon: a silver dagger, conveniently propped in the slack grip of her left hand.
I felt a bubbling of suspicion and knelt to examine the blade. Etched into the base of the hilt were the letters R.A., showing that it was the property of Ridgeview Academy.
"Who found her?" I asked quietly.
Colden crouched beside me, one of his knees brushing my thigh. At first glance, I was greeted with the same mask of stone that visited me in the mirror every morning. But on closer inspection, I saw through the cracks in the facade, to the frustration burning in his heart.
It burned in mine, too. No matter what the circumstances turned out to be, whether this was a suicide, an accident or a malicious attack, we'd failed Amber. Principals and teachers were mere figureheads in our community. We were the true leaders, and somewhere, somehow, the system we embodied failed us.
"I found her," Colden said eventually. "I was coming to check on you after your battle with Ivy and stumbled upon the scene. I called you straight away, then arranged for Louise to fetch a body bag."
