The Black Family Crest and The Ruby Red Bloodstone

Chapter One

His Arrival

Markus,) 12:20 a.m. I was the only person to step off the train at Station #17.I should have known something wasn’t right, when the conductor wouldn’t even step out onto the platform. Nervously, he threw me my luggage and told me not to leave until my escort arrived. Then he wished me luck.

Confused by the conductor’s comment, I watched as the train pulled away and disappeared around the bend. Turning towards the station, that’s when I realized it was closed.

The full moon was consumed by the thick clouds, and the lantern above the station door barely gave off enough light to penetrate the eerie darkness. And then when the dense fog rolled in, consuming the lantern, the light faded completely, every once in a while, I could see the flame flicker, as thin patches of fog passed by.

Suddenly, I was startled by the howl of a single wolf that seemed to be dangerously close. Then I heard the crisp fall leaves crunching under the weight of its paws as it circled the platform. Its growling snarl seemed to echo through the fog. To my right a branch cracked, and another snarl. This time, it sounded more like a large cat than a wolf. Without shelter, the only thing I could do was stand by the station door; I figured I could break it down if need be.

By no means am I a small timid man. But when I heard the deafening screams of the two creatures as they attacked one another, I was terrified, not knowing if even the walls of the station would keep out the angry beasts that were now fighting at the bottom of the platform.

The silence that followed the furious fight was just as disturbing, and the minutes that slowly passed felt like an eternity, before I heard what sounded like horseshoes clomping on an old cobblestone road and wooden wheels rolling behind it. The clomping grew louder and louder until it stopped at the end of the platform.

Through the dense fog I could barely discern the outline of a tall, lanky form. When he stepped out of the mist, his slow walk towards me felt ominous, as if the air around him was electrified, consuming my energy as he approached.

I wanted to run, but I knew my life depended on staying and fighting the challenges that I would be facing. For a brief moment, I froze when he spoke. Professor Black, your carriage has arrived.

As I guardedly approached him, I noticed he was wearing a long black hooded cloak with skintight trousers, which were tucked into knee-high boots. Although I felt compelled to watch his every move, my eyes kept looking down at the platform, for it began to narrow, and the slight downward slope was slick from the thick dew that had settled on the wooden planks. By the time the platform leveled off, and I looked back up, he was standing a few feet in front of me. Startled, I stepped back, not knowing how he had closed the distance in such a short time. The smile on his rugged face was kind of creepy, as he held out his gray, clammy hand and introduced himself as Mr. Cornwall, Keeper of the Grounds. What confounded me the most was the moment our hands touched, the onslaught of the rain came pouring down, and then a blinding flash of lighting, and the loud clap of thunder had me pulling my hand away. Although I’m not a superstitions man, I felt like this was just the beginning, the beginning of a long perilous journey.

As Mr. Cornwall opened the carriage door, his steamy breath lingered in the wet frosty air. We’ll be arriving at the School of Ancient Arts in about three hours. You’ll need to snap shut the window curtains, for the fall rain arrived early this year.

Without giving me a chance to reply, he slammed the door in my face. As the cold chill crept down my spine, I knew my original thought was correct, for I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was oddly wrong.

While I snapped shut the dark blue velvet curtains, Mr. Cornwall loaded my luggage onto the back of the carriage.

As he drove away, I propped my feet on the blue leather bench seat directly in front of me, trying to get comfortable for the long journey. I ran my fingers through my short, curly, black hair, shaking the excess rain from my loose locks. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the flickering light of the kerosene lantern that flanked both ends of the paneled wall, I wondered why the school sent a horse drawn carriage instead of a car, considering that it was a three-hour ride in a severe thunderstorm.

Time seemed to fly by as we traveled the winding mountainous roads at treacherous speeds. The few times I dared look out the window, I saw at least six sets of red glowing eyes, if not more. That scared me more than Mr. Cornwall’s driving.

Finally, we came to an abrupt stop. I looked out the window and saw what looked a twelve-foot wrought iron gate swinging open. In the far distance, on top of the mountainside, was the largest castle I’d seen since landing at Athens Airport in Greece. The mountain road that led from the gate to the castle took a horrifying fifteen minutes. It was barely wide enough for the carriage to travel down, and there was at least a hundred foot drop-off on both sides, and no guardrail, to prevent us from plummeting to our deaths. After crossing the gorge, we came to a second gate attached to the mountain. The other side of the gate was a cobblestone roundabout, and on the east side was the castle.

I climbed out of the carriage, and stood at the bottom of an enormously large, blue stone staircase. Looking toward the top of the stairs, I saw a set of, solid, wooden, arched doors that appeared to be about twenty foot tall.

My eyes traveled up the side of the castle. Before I knew it, I was looking straight up into the rainy night sky. When lightning struck it revealed a bell tower at the top of the large castle, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a strange looking shadow looking down at me, but when the second flash light the night, the shadow was gone.

After the deafening thunder subsided, I heard a comforting, feminine voice calling down to me from the top of the stairs. Professor Black, you must come in from the rain.

While making my way up the rain-slicked stairs, I saw a tall brunette woman standing in the doorway. She also was wearing a long black cloak which only seemed to emphasize her slight figure. When I entered the foyer, I noticed that kerosene lanterns and torches lit the castle. The staircase mantle had ornate carvings of gargoyles and other mythical creatures. I was so enthralled by my surroundings I had not realized that the woman had spoken my name three times. Finally, I looked at her closely; that was when I noticed how radiant she was, even at this early morning hour. Her long dark hair cascaded down past her shoulders, olive colored skin and piercing green eyes. Her beauty was invigorating.

Her kind voice was a soft whisper, and the delicate hand she held out was soft and warm, Nice to finally meet you, Professor Black. I’m Professor Gorgon, headmistress of this magnificent school.

It is my honor to meet you, Professor Gorgon.

When she patted the top of my hand, my cheeks turned a light shade of pink as I realized that I hadn't let her hand go. You must be exhausted from your long trip. Let me show you to your bedchamber. She led me up the three flights of stairs. On the stone wall there hung old portraits of past headmasters. The landings were lit by torches, revealing long corridors with at least a dozen doors. Above each door were a dimly lit lantern and a number.

Looking up at me, she smiled when she noticed my peculiar look, It is a beautiful school, isn't it?

Yes, indeed. I replied."

After a good night’s sleep, your adviser can give you a grand tour, then she handed me a long antique skeleton key that opened chamber 355.

After I pushed open the heavy wooden door, Professor Gorgon stood just inside the bedchamber while I walked around. The first thing I saw was a king size, four-poster, canopy bed, with heavy burgundy drapes that flowed to the floor. The two nightstands that stood on either side of the bed had a soft glowing lantern. The other side of the room was a stone fireplace. I could hear the soft crackling sound the logs made as the cozy fire burned. The outside wall had a set of etched glass windows, a large bench seat with white and burgundy pin stripe cushions, and two large burgundy pillows. My magnificent view was that of the snowcapped mountains. Looking around the dimly lit bedchamber, I realized there was no TV. At that point, I knew with the lack of electricity, I would have no outlet for my radio or shaver. I made my way to the private bath, surprised to find it somewhat modern, with warm running water.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Headmistress Gorgon was whispering something to Mr. Cornwall. When he heard me, he looked up, and for a brief second, I thought I saw a red flicker in his eyes. As Mr. Cornwall left the room, Headmistress Gorgon turned towards me, with a forced smiled on her face, "Professor Black, I hope your bedchamber is to your satisfaction?

Everything looks fine.

Good, when you awaken, pull the call rope that is next to your bed. Your advisor for the day will come for you. If there’s nothing else I can do for you Mr. Black you have a goodnight.

Thanks you too.

After she closed the door, I went to retrieve my night clothes. That’s when I saw that Mr. Cornwall had already put my clothes and suitcase away, and next to them were seven black cloaks.

While pondering over the strange situation I found myself in, I took a long hot bath, then climbed into the most comfortable bed I had ever slept on. Normally, I liked to fall asleep to the flash of lightning, and the sound of thunder, but not tonight. Tonight, I closed the drapes on the canopy to help drown out the constant lightning. The moment my head hit the pillow, I began to dream. I dreamt about red glowing eyes chasing me through the wet misty mountainside. No matter how fast I ran they sustained the same distance. I knew they could smell my scent, so it was futile to try and hide, for at every turn, there they were. There were many times an attack was inevitable, but it never came. That’s when I realized I was being herded instead of hunted.

11:35 a.m. I woke up, completely refreshed, and could barely remember my dream. By the time I was dressed and pulled the call rope, it was lunchtime.

It took less than ten minutes for my adviser to come knocking. The gentleman on the other side stood at least six foot, his ash colored skin looked odd with his long curly black hair and dark brown eyes. He too was wearing a long black cloak.

His voice carried a sharp, arrogant, tone. I am Stefan Prescott, Professor of Astronomy.

Ignoring his arrogance, I held out my hand. Nice to meet you Stefan, I’m Markus.

Without offering his hand for me to shake, he muttered, Yeah, nice to meet you.

I was just about to shut the door, when Stefan stopped me. Professor Black, you must always wear your cloak whenever you leave your bedchamber.

Shocked, I went back and retrieved one of the cloaks that were hanging in my closet. Feeling foolish, I put on the long cloak. It fit my five eleven-frame perfectly, like it had been tailored precisely for me.

Stefan led me down to the dining hall for lunch; it was an enormous room that seated at least a hundred students. The long rectangular table that sat at the head of the room had twelve chairs and a throne in the middle. Hanging from the ceiling were eight lit candelabras. The flicker of the candlelight illuminated a painting that covered the entire ceiling.

The painting was of a great battle between eight winged mythical creatures and eight western dragons. All of the mythical creatures were enormously large cats of different kinds. The people upon their backs wore strange Gothic clothing. The other eight riders on the western dragons wore long black cloaks that blew in the wind, creating a black silhouette. The only thing you could see coming from their hoods were their red glowing eyes. Staring down onto the battle were seven fairies. As their wings fluttered, sparkling dust fell from them, revealing different colors. On the ground, below the battle were many different mythical creatures. They too were watching. On the far left was Cerberus, Guardian of Hades, and the ground he stood on was cracked open. You could see the red molten lava flowing from below, waiting to devour its prey, pulling them down into the Greek underworld of Tartarus.

After meeting all eleven professors I sat alone eating my lunch, and studying the painting that loomed over my head, I felt its significance somehow pertained to me, but was not sure how a three thousand year old painting of Greek mythology would relate to me. Yet I felt drawn to it; it was almost hypnotic, but not as alluring as the professor from New York City. During the brief moment I had talked with her, there was something about her that I found quite intriguing, almost to the point to where I was unable to pull myself away from her. My thoughts of the New York professor were interrupted, as a shadow cast down on me. Looking back, there was Stefan standing. I thought his grim face was going to crack when he spoke. Professor Black, are you ready?

Stefan started the grand tour by leading me through the main floor. Directly across from the dining hall was the hearth room. Walking through the large arched doorway, the first thing I saw was a row of etched glass windows that soared from the ceiling to the floor. On both ends of the room was a large stone fireplace, with a roaring fire in both of them. Hanging from the ceiling were three large lit candelabras. Lying on the blue stone floor were three beautiful rugs with at least fifty overstuffed chairs arranged in many different groups. Even though the room was large, it still possessed a cozy feel.

Between the hearth and dining room was a long corridor that led to the library, it too had many overstuffed chairs that sat in small groups. And the rows of antique looking books were amazing. As we made our way back to the foyer and headed up the stairs, Stefan informed me that the second and third floors were all dormitories. The professors each had their own suite and the students shared four to a bedchamber. Without stopping, we went directly to the fourth and fifth floors. As we walked though each classroom, I could not believe how different and unique each room was. They were not normal math or English classrooms, but laboratories, and conservatories. The botany room had plants I had never seen before. There were rooms where ancient Greek spells and magical potions were learned, and in one of the rooms, hanging from the rafters, was a large skeleton of what looked like a dragon. Finally, we made it to what was to be my classroom; the history books did not contain stories of World War II, or any other world events for that matter. They told bizarre stories of mythical creatures and ancient gods and battles I had never heard of.

When Stefan noticed the bewildered look on my face, it must have angered him. I was startled when I heard his loud, unpleasant voice that I had quickly became accustomed to. Professor Black, didn’t you receive your classroom packet explaining your academic program?

Irritated by his unpleasant attitude, I bit down on my lip to calm my own irritancy before I replied. I came to Greece two weeks early for a holiday. It must have come after I left.

Walking around my strange classroom, I wondered if I had made a mistake coming here. After a long sigh, "Well, I guess you'll have to get them after dinner tonight. Headmistress Gorgon will be hosting the Party of New Beginnings for the professors. During that time, everyone will receive their orientation program and instructions of their requirements.

While leaving my classroom, I noticed a strange looking door at the end of the hall, the hinges were thick black metal, and the knob looked like a unique Atlantian crystal. And the fog that swirled through the hollow crystal had a pink iridescent glow to it. The door! Where does it lead to?

To the bell tower and Headmistress Gorgon keeps it locked at all times. It is quite dangerous up there.

I saw it last night upon my arrival, and I thought I saw a shadow when lightning lit up the sky, revealing the tower.

That’s ridiculous. No one could have possibly been up there, The way Stefan quickly changed the subject, it made me think he too had seen strange things that could not be explained, but did not dare speak of them.

Hastily, walking towards the stairs, There’s much more to see, so we must keep moving. We made our way down the winding five flights of stairs in an awkward silence; I was taking in all of my surroundings. Looking at the long corridors and tall ceilings, I wondered if secret passages lay on the other side of these ancient stone walls; I knew that was one question I dared not ask.

Stefan broke the silence when we stepped off the stairs and into the foyer. I’m sure you will love the grounds; everyone else thinks they are quite breathtaking.

Making our way around the school, we came upon many different gardens, waterfalls, and mountainsides. The treacherous cliffs had cobblestone walls around the edges to prevent the children from falling. On the south side of the school was a large veranda with two French doors leading to the dining hall. That way, the students and staff could enjoy lunch outside on a beautiful sunny day. It had a magnificent view of two mountain peaks that lay across a deep gorge. The grounds on the other side of the veranda had a long winding trail that led down into the Black Forest. Looking up at the peaks I thought I saw something glowing inside one of the many cave’s that were on the side of the mountains. I hesitated, before I asked, What is that red glow on the side of the mountain?

It’s probably the sun reflecting off the clouds, so we had better start heading back in before the storm arrives; they roll in fast here on the mountain.

Just as we made it to the front of the school, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, accompanied by the loudest clap of thunder I had ever heard. I looked up, and once again I saw a shadow in the bell tower. This time, I did not mention it to Stefan.

The moment we stepped into the school and shut the door behind us, the onslaught of rain began. Stefan informed me that dinner was in an hour and that I should head to my bedchamber and freshen up, for the Headmistress frowned on tardiness. Without saying goodbye we went our separate ways, with Stefan walking toward the library.

As I headed up the stairs to my bedchamber, I noticed the storm outside had intensified, almost to the point of an angry roar. The constant lightning lit up the stained glass windows that were at the end of each landing, cascading an array of colors along the halls.

When I finally made it to my bedchamber, I noticed that someone had been there. It must have been housekeeping, because my bed was made and the bathroom cleaned, with fresh towels folded and neatly placed on the shelf. Wow, I could get used to this, considering my loft in D.C was always a mess.

Just as I was about to go and hang up my cloak I heard a noise at the door. I turned around just in time to see a letter slide from underneath it. After picking it up, I began to read,

‘You are cordially invited to the Party of New Beginnings. The black tie affair will be held in the hearth room; with drinks and hors d’oeuvres at 6:00p.m. Dinner will be promptly served at 6:30 p.m. followed by a brief orientation. Sincerely, Headmistress Gorgon.’

The invitation came with a note informing me that my formal wear was hanging in my closet.

By the time I changed my clothes, it was time for me to head down to the hearth room. I entered just as the giant grandfather clock struck 6:00. Headmistress Gorgon looked up at me and smiled.

She walked over, and took my hand into hers, I hope you enjoyed your tour of the grounds today.

It was quite invigorating. I can’t wait till tomorrow. If it’s a nice day, do you think I could possibly take a hike on the trail I saw down by the veranda?

After a brief moment of silence, she replied, The trail is dangerous and only experienced hikers should attempt it.

I see, but my stepfather and I have been hiking and mountain climbing since I was twelve years old. I think I can handle a hike.

With apprehension still in her eyes, I went on to say, But if it gets too rough, I can always turn back around.

OK, but not without a guide. Mr. Cornwall can assist you on the trail; he’s quite the avid hiker.

The moment she said Mr. Cornwall's name, I wanted to decline my need for a hike. But quickly, I decided against it. Something inside me told me to not reveal my uneasy feeling of Mr. Cornwall. After agreeing to her terms, she excused herself and went to talk to the head chef.

While I mingled with the professors, my eyes kept trailing back to the distraught looking Professor O’Connor. Her long brown hair and ice blue eyes were captivating; it was like I was magically drawn to her. Oddly, I felt the burning need to protect her, but from what? When the dinner bell rang, the professors and I were led to the formal table that was set up in the hearth room. The foods on the plates were like nothing I had ever seen. The mashed potatoes, if that was what they were, were a deep purple and the other stringy vegetable was lime green. The white chicken was the only thing on the plate that looked normal. Not wanting to offend the Headmistress with a disgusted look, I concentrated on the seating arrangements, instead of the strange food. I was pleased that we would be sitting in the same order as in the dining hall. That way, I would be sitting next to Professor O’Connor. While having cocktails, I noticed that she had an unsettled look on her face; I knew I had to find out what