Olivia the Odd (The Lightwood Saga #1) - [under construction]

Prologue

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

- 1 Peter 2:9 -

     PROLOGUE

POV: Saito

THE SKY  DARKENED upon the land of Lightwood as Night's poison purple trails seeped in, staining the earth with its unnatural light. Like other days, there was a feeling of unrest—from the fluttering deadened leaves to the sprinting clouds above to the Coinaeacs that anxiously chittered under the brush.

At the edge of the vast realm of mountains and moorland was a university seated on a neatly trimmed hill. Many yards away, a rigid iron-wrought gate blocked off the campus: an illusion, as those who knew the area knew it would take far more than a metal gate to provide protection.

Across thecampus' great, clipped green lawn that, ironically, no one had cut in well over a hundred years, a frigid wind whispered across. Searching. Wailing.

The school's walls were made of finely chiseled stone and a tangle of climbing vines that slithered through its crevices—as if the building itself were being kept prisoner by the earth. Large peaks and flying buttresses rigidly garnished each tower.

But jutting high above the towers was the Watchtower. It sat like an elder sister amongst its younger ones, muddled with English Ivy, but in a delicate way.

And course, it was off-limits to students and staff alike—not that they would ever dare approach its winding steps without authorization, anyways. There was a reason it had only one room in it.

"I have come to report to you the progress of my senior class, Headmistress," a deep voice echoed from one corner of the study. The room inside the Watchtower was large but built small enough so that sound didn't have to carry very far.

Standing facing a wide glass window giving a rectangular view of the storm was a woman dressed in a simple navy-blue gown with her fingers laced together. The glass was purposefully tinted, allowing her to stay completely hidden from sight as she inspected the campus greenery below. Her face was breathtakingly pale in contrast to her hair which was pulled into a tight bun, only marred by the smallest streak of silver. Otherwise it was so black that it's sheen was blue.

The faint light from the outside cast thin shadows over her face, revealing the light wrinkles around her coal eyes: the only place any sign of her true age could be seen. She gazed up at the dark clouds galloping across the sky and thought it made a disturbing addition to the campus' chilling stillness.