Dead Ravens Society

Chapter One - By Slow Prudence

       This is my son, mine own Telemachus,

To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—

Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil

This labour, by slow prudence, to make mild

- Ulysses,  Alfred Lord Tennyson 

      Adam

Aglionby Academy - home of the Raven Boys. Nestled in the outskirts of Henrietta, Virginia, its red brick walls towered above the rest of the town. On its campus boys of various stature yet similar origins could often be seen strolling off to class or the weekend's party. That was how Raven Boys made their way to places; slowly and deliberately. They could afford to breathe the air, to feel the heat of the sun on their skin. They could sleep soundlessly after finishing their coursework without a worry in the world. They were unconquerable. 

Adam Parrish's father had always looked down on the elitist pricks that walked the polished floors of the Ivy League High School.

In Robert Parrish's eyes, the Raven Boys were mere criminals dressed in tailored suits, born to flaunt their riches and laugh at the "good workers that help keep this town on the map". Adam didn't bother pointing out that a self-employed car mechanic wasn't the reason Henrietta still remained among the Virginia mountains. 

When Mr Parrish realised his son would soon be a Raven Boy himself, Adam got his worst beating yet, having to stay home from school until the bruise on his temple could be explained away as a skateboarding accident. "You think you are so much better than us," Robert Parrish had screamed, almost deafening Adam, "isn't that right, you ungrateful bastard?"

Adam tried to disregard his father's harsh words like he ignored his beatings - by dreaming of a future he wasn't sure he would have.

When the letter arrived, telling them who would be sharing a dorm with Adam at Algionby, both men of the Parrish household knew he stood no chance. The name written in neat cursive was one they both knew; Richard Campbell Gansey III.

His father had scoffed. "You'll be lucky if he even bothers to learn your name."

When Adam saw the brunette boy for the first time, walking in front of all the students, carrying one of four pillars engraved with the values of Algionby Academy, he knew his father had been right. The old fabric bore the word Tradition, and Adam understood at once why Richard Gansey III had been chosen to carry it.

The way the boy walked, or more so strode, made it seem as if that banner weighed nothing to him, in all meanings of the word. His straight back and straighter nose reminded Adam of the monarchs of old. He held his chin up as if he was carrying an invisible crown.

At that moment, he was everything Adam wanted to be; sure of his place in the world, someone their peers looked up to, someone who belonged in this world of dead languages and fine cuisine; at the same time, he was everything Adam was not. Honorable, courageous and disciplined. Prideful for all the right reasons.

He was a king.

Gansey

Tradition, Honor, Discipline, Excellence. Those were the four values of Algionby Academy, and the four words deciding Gansey's future.

He watched as the flame from headmaster Whelk's candle passed around the room.

The Gansey family had had their humble beginning sixty years earlier in the very room Gansey now sat. Richard Campbell Gansey II had maintained the flame first set ablaze by Richard Campbell Gansey I by handing it over to his son the previous year. If Gansey burnt himself and dropped it, he would extinguish a light that had burned on through generations.

It was a privilege being at Aglionby. Gansey knew that. But the candle's smoke often made its way into his lungs and made him choke. 

He wanted to make his parents proud, and he thought he had thus far, but lately, he wondered if that was all he had been born for. Or if there was something more waiting for him. Something more than to play the role of the dutiful son.

He looked over at the banner he had previously held. Tradition was what held Aglionby Academy up. It was why the names inscribed under the photographs in the halls were the same ones carried by many of its current pupils. It was why Gansey never had to worry about student loans or whether he would find someplace to work once he was done with his many years of schooling. 

But it was also why he already knew just how his life would plan out. It was how he knew he never would get to find his own pace to walk the earth. How he'd known the first time he died that he was nothing special; just another boy trying to fill his father's shoes.