Strixes

Alaric VI

It felt so surreal, finding my classroom. Room X-306, one of the French language classrooms. It had been seventeen years since I graduated from high school and went to spend the rest of my life at the hospital. It might sound pathetic, but compared sterile environment of the hospital, school had been the high point in my life. It was the last time I had my freedom. The last time I was around people that weren't hospital staff or patients. It was a much better part of my life than the hospital was.

So when I set foot in the classroom, already filling up with students, I felt a rush of nostalgia. I was getting a second chance at life, a real chance to live like a normal person. Well, almost. The blood-drinking wasn't normal, but my body was fit and strong and I wasn't going to suffer a relapse. It was a new game, with a better hand.

The homeroom teacher waved me over when I walked in. "Are you a new student?"

I hurried to take out the slip the dean gave me. "Yes. I am. I need you to sign this."

The teacher took the slip and nodded. He took out a pin and wrote his signature down. "There you go." He handed it to me.

"Thank you. This is the first time I've ever had a homeroom."

"Your last school didn't have a homeroom?"

"No."

"It's an important part of life here for students. Once you're put in a homeroom, you stay in it for the whole seven years. Or however long you attend. Normally you're put in one when you're a First Former, but transfer students like you will be randomly assigned one."

"What do you do in homeroom?"

"We go over important announcements. The homeroom teachers also go over administrative duties. And punish students for infractions."

It was not fun to be pulled up in front of the whole homeroom and publicly punished. I suppose it was an effective tactic though.

"I'm Professor Verner, for future reference. I teach calculus here. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lightwood."

"The pleasure is all mine."

This was supposed to be a French immersion class, so I did find it a little strange that he was willing to speak in English, but I chalked that up to some quirk for homeroom.

"Hey, new kid?" she whispered to me as I took my seat. The first thing I registered when I looked over was just how hot she was. She had the figure that I loved, and the blonde hair didn't hurt either. "Where you from?"

What was our cover story again? I was adopted, but I couldn't remember if Mireille told me where we had lived before. "A small town in Deseret Province. You probably haven't heard about it."

I hoped we didn't have a place picked out. I would have to ask Nanase or Kaya about it.

"Desert? You're a desert kid?"

"Yeah." At least I didn't have to lie about this. "Everything around here is a little too green, but I like it."

"That's cool. I'm Bianca Lock."

"Alaric Lightwood."

When she smiled, it lit up her face. "You passed the entrance exam to get into our school? You must be pretty smart. I transferred in from Minerva."

"It was difficult," I lied. I wondered how bad it was to get into this school if she was impressed I got in. "I did my best."

"What classes do you have today?"

I pulled out my schedule. "Um... I have a double period for French 6 AP. Third period is Pre-Calculus... With Professor Verner of all people. Fourth period is P.E. Water Sports. And I have double period Aquroyan History AP 2 to finish off the day."

"You have P.E. with Coach Martin?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll see you in fourth period." I won't lie. The thought of seeing Bianca Lock in a swimsuit was nice.

The bell rang, and Professor Verner called the class to order. It was a short, fifteen-minute class, but true to his word he went over every announcement and bit of news that he said was important for the student body to know. Then he bid us goodbye, without a single punishment.

When she walked in, Professeure Desjardins took my breath away. Which she shouldn't have, since I had been around Mireille more than enough at the compound, but she looked even better here. Her hair was black as night and complimented her blue eyes. At thirty, she looked like a freaking model, and I'm sure a lot of students were confused about why she bothered to be a teacher. She could have easily taken a modeling job. She was pretty enough to be an actress.

Those occupations might be more dangerous for her. More chance for exposure.

She looked at me and her cold blue eyes bore into mine. "Vous êtes Monsieur Lightwood, n'est-ce pas?" She asked if I was Mr. Lightwood.

"Ah... Oui."

"Vous pouvez vous assoir là pour le leçon." She was telling me I could sit here for the lesson.

"Oui."

How... Did I understand what she was saying? Maybe Julius or Damien learned French, but I had never spoken the language before, but I could translate everything she said instantly. It wasn't just my strix mind either, it was like I was familiar with the language.

"This is an immersion class, so I will only tell you this one, Mr. Lightwood. As long as we are here, we only speak French. Do you understand?"

"Oui. Er, I mean, yes."

"Oui will suffice."

She turned around to the board and started... Drawing on it with her finger? It took me a moment to remember to turn on my linker and when I did, it asked for permission to connect to the school system. I clicked the Yes box and suddenly that blank board was filled with writing.

In her hand was a virtual pen and she was writing with it. That had to be uncomfortable since there was nothing in her hand, but she wrote like she was used to it.

She was writing in French and I could read it as easily as I could in English. Maybe Kaya was right. Since Damien knew it, then I would as well. Did that mean I was fluent in Japanese as well? When I got home, I was going to see if Anime was a thing here and I was going to watch everyone in Japanese. Now that I could understand it.

Bianca whistled under her breath. "Professor Desjardins is something else, isn't she?"

I didn't miss the way she said that. "You like Professeure Desjardins?"

"Who doesn't? Look at her. I swing both ways," she admitted as an afterthought.

She turned to grin at me and that's when her scent hit me. I don't know how I missed it. Maybe I wasn't used to the enhanced senses or maybe I should have drank some blood today, but her scent hit me like a train. Now that I was smelling it, I realized it permeated across the classroom.

She didn't smell like a human. If I had to judge a human scent by the maids in the compound or the humans here, I would say they smelled alive. Body odor mixed with running blood and healthy organs gave humans a scent of life. I had even been a little grossed out when I realized that human sweat made me want to drink them.

Then there was Bianca. I could hear the blood pumping through her body. I could feel the heat of her skin. Despite the chemicals she used to suppress her body odor, I could even smell her sweat. Yet she smelled... Wrong. Off. She didn't smell like a human, but she still had life in her. Nor did she smell like a strix, close to a corpse. She smelled like the woods. Almost like the pet dogs around the compound, only the smell was acidic. No, that wasn't the right word. Like the smell was... Sharper.

Sharper like wet dog. I almost scrunched my nose, but I didn't want to offend her. I wondered if anyone else could smell her, but no one else batted an eye. If it was just me, then I found a reason to curse my enhanced senses. Maybe some people just smelled worse?

Mireille called out attention to the board, now full of grammar rules that made perfect sense to me. Then she ordered us to start our worksheet. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a notification. Pressing it, Feuille de travail 25 appeared, asking me if I wanted to open it. When I clicked "Yes" a keyboard appeared in front of me, while the worksheet opened behind it.

It took me a few seconds to see that I could type on the keyboard and the letters would appear on the sheet. There were no physical buttons, but where my fingers tapped, those letters appeared. I understood then how useful a linker was and why a government might want to control it. It was like having a computer strapped to my wrist, but without having to lug one around.

I finished the paper quicker. It was too easy and I sent it back to Mireille. When she didn't react, I looked around. Everyone was still working. So I started playing with my linker, going through it and finding all the applications.

When I noticed there was a button called Games, I didn't waste any time. A library of games appeared. Hundreds of titles were in front of them, some of them I would need a keyboard to play, and others would require control. In each instance, they generated a VR keyboard or controller.

Did gamers play with VR controllers? I watched my hands pick up the controller, but it felt like I was holding air. When I pressed a button, it made my character jump. The joysticks made my characters move, but if I wasn't watching where I touched the controller, I don't see how I could play it. I couldn't navigate it by touch.

In the upper left corner, there was an option to install a real keyboard or controller and I was sure that's what most gamers did. It was hard to play with a virtual controller.

Some games had other ways to control the character. Some of them were simpler, but a lot of them got creative, but before I could get playing, Mireille called the class to order again and we went over what we learned for the next hour. Mireille seemed intent on drilling it into everyone's head, but when it became clear that I had an understanding of it, she moved on to other students.

I wondered if she used this class as a test. To see if I would understand something that Damien would. I must have passed because she never called on me again.

"I hate French," Bianca-the-dog-smelling-girl said as the bell rang. There was nothing to pack up, so when class ended, I could just get up. I had to turn the games off, I didn't know if I would be able to walk through the crowded hallways while playing a game.

It seems that I didn't have to worry. My eyes picked up the best spots to slide through and my body moved through the mass of students like air. I set a part of my mind to process if I could play games while walking, but the majority of my focus was on finding my next class.

I had Pre-Calculus with Professor Verner, in room B-108. The letter stood for the building, so Pre-Calc would be an English language class for me. Bianca waved me goodbye, heading to building Z.

My last class of the day, Aquroyan History would be in building Z, which meant that it was going to be a Japanese language class.

***

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