Elysium by Sylah Sloan Page A

I was different? Would they hate me for it? These thoughts bombarded me constantly.
    Mikhail had brought me my course books, and I was amazed by what I had read when I flipped though them. One of the books, Arcane History: The Birth of the Vampyre , was so engrossing I ended up reading the entire thing in one night. Arcanes were like nothing I had ever known—nothing I had ever heard of. They weren’t the monsters of nightmares, or the devil himself … at least the majority weren’t. One of my course books, The Rise of the Seekers , talked about rogue Arcane, and how they sought power by draining the life force of others. It was amazing to learn, yet frightening.
    I stared at the television, flipping through the hundreds of channels, thanks to satellite. Nothing held my interest, and I turned it off, sighing and lying back on the bed. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting from one thing to another. There was a light knock at my door, and I smiled. Cadeon had already been by twice tonight, but even so, I wanted it to be him. I jumped off the bed and checked myself in my vanity mirror. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
    Standing was a very petite girl. Her hair was a halo of wild auburn flames, her features those of a pixie. She smiled at me, lighting up her brown, doe-like eyes, and making her seem younger then I’m sure she actually was.
    “Meadow?”
    She didn’t wait to be invited in, just walked right into my room as she whistled. She handed me a package, without even so much as a glance in my direction.
    “You hit the mother lode, didn’t you?”
    I looked around my room, confused as to what she meant, but more confused as to why she was here. I set the package on my vanity and watched her. “Um, yeah, I’m Meadow. Who are you?” She turned and looked at me, her expression one of shock.
    “What? Are you telling me they didn’t tell you I was coming around?”
    I shook my head, watching as she went around my room and touched everything I owned.
    “How did you score such a rockin’ room when you just transferred here?” She sat on the edge of my bed, bounced a little bit, and ran her hand along the comforter.
    “I don’t know. Isn’t everyone’s room like this?”
    She laughed, the sound high pitched, like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. “Remind me to show you my dwellings later, then we’ll compare.”
    “I’m sorry. Why are you here again?”
    “We’ve been paired together. Since you’re new, I was assigned to show you around. Most of our classes are together, well, except the last two. You get to choose your last elective classes.” She pulled a pamphlet from her pocket and handed it to me. “You have to take a stupid history class, specializing in your species, but every student has to.” I saw her roll her eyes and look around my room again. “Anyway, look through the pamphlet and decide what elective you want to take.”
    “Yeah, sure.” I sat down and looked through the pamphlet, taking note they offered swimming, ballet, gymnastics, as well as an array of other recreational classes. As I read through the list, I felt a little disappointed no music classes were offered. Out of all the electives they offered, not one piano class was on the list.
    “Get out!”
    I looked at the door, thinking she was talking to me, but realizing she noticed the TV on the wall.
    “Is that a flat screen plasma?”
    I shrugged. “I guess, why?”
    “Again, remind me to show you my room and my twenty-four inch clunker. Are you related to someone in the Manor?”
    “No, why?”
    “Well, you have the penthouse of all rooms, not to mention the best of best things. I just wanted to know what strings you pulled to get this kind of loot.”
    She was starting to embarrass me, but I didn’t say anything. It made me wonder though, why would they give me such an extravagant room, if none of the other students had them? Maybe they felt sorry for my predicament, or maybe it was