Page 10 of Academy of the Wicked (The Paranormal Elites of Wicked Academy #2)

Welcome To Year Two

~GWENIVERE~

" C ongratulations and welcome to Year Two of Wicked Academy."

The professor's words hang in the air, formal acknowledgment of advancement that somehow feels both anticlimactic and ominous given everything we've experienced to reach this point. Her gaze lingers on Nikolai's transformed form with particular interest, though she makes no direct comment on the obvious change.

The gates close behind us with a resonant boom that seems to mark the definitive transition between trials and whatever awaits in this new phase of our education.

Year One – with its purification ritual, blood prison, and prophesied sacrifices – now belongs to our past. Year Two, with its unknown challenges and mysterious manipulations, stretches before us.

I glance between my companions, assessing our collective state after everything we've endured.

Gabriel's form feels simultaneously familiar and restrictive after experiencing freedom as Gwenivere during the trial's conclusion. The masculine glamour settled over me without conscious effort, suggesting Year Two operates under the same gender restrictions as Year One despite my advancement token acknowledging my hybrid nature.

Cassius appears outwardly composed, shadows returned to their usual subtle manifestation rather than combat readiness.

Yet I catch the slight tension in his jaw, the careful way his silver gaze tracks between Eternalis and Nikolai's transformed state. Concern lies beneath his stoic exterior, not for himself but for the unexpected complications our advancement has created.

Mortimer adjusts his newly manifested uniform, scholarly demeanor restored though his posture suggests heightened alertness. The key around his neck glints with subtle magic, matching the pendant at my throat and the rings adorning my bond mates' fingers.

Whatever separated his consciousness from his draconic form during the trial appears resolved, though questions about that experience remain for later discussion.

Atticus maintains his position slightly behind me, crimson eyes assessing our surroundings with practiced efficiency.

His longer hair frames features that show no surprise at Nikolai's transformation – either because nothing surprises him after his prison experiences, or because he somehow anticipated this development. Either possibility raises questions about what else he might know that we don't.

Nikolai – now unmistakably female – rises to her feet with the same grace that characterized her male form. The transformation appears complete rather than mere surface illusion, affecting not just physical appearance but subtle elements of movement and energy signature.

Her golden aura maintains its distinctive resonance but with undertones that shift like music played in a different key – recognizable yet fundamentally altered.

The changed Fae examines her hands with critical assessment, turning them over to study delicate fingers that retain their strength but with altered proportions. Her uniform has adjusted to accommodate new curves, maintaining the same design elements while perfectly fitted to her transformed body. The fashion adaptation might seem trivial amid larger concerns, but it confirms the official nature of this change – Year Two acknowledging her altered state as it acknowledged my true gender through the pendant's hybrid symbolism.

My thoughts race with implications too numerous to process immediately. Does Nikolai's transformation mirror my own situation – a hidden truth revealed rather than a new state imposed? Or has Year Two fundamentally altered the Fae prince as part of advancement requirements? Most pressing – is this change temporary or permanent?

Eternalis's mismatched eyes track our individual reactions with evident amusement, her lips curved in a smile that suggests satisfaction with whatever outcomes our trial has produced.

Whether she participated in orchestrating these events remains unclear, but her lack of surprise confirms at minimum prior knowledge.

"If you'll follow me," she announces, turning with practiced elegance that makes her jeweled skirt catch light from multiple angles, "I'll show you to your new accommodations. Year Two operates under different protocols than what you've experienced thus far."

The casual statement carries significant implications. Different protocols could mean anything from altered class structures to completely revamped relationships between students and faculty. After the trial's revelations about manipulation and hidden agendas, any change deserves careful scrutiny rather than automatic acceptance.

So…we’re not going to be able to talk about…this?

“Sorry to pause our haste, Professor Eternalis” Mortimer thankfully speaks up for our group’s behalf, walking further forward until he’s standing between our group and the Professor in question. “Would we be given just a few minutes to wrap around what just occurred?”

Her smile only widens in appreciation, before she bobs her head.

“Of course. I’m sure you have plenty of questions, though every moment you waste can lead to the ultimate reversal of your acceptance, so I would suggest we leave pleasantries and other more detailed discussions to afterward when you’re in your new dorm space.”

Shit…

We all share a nervous look before we look to Nikolai, who still seems confused as to what the problem is.

“Why are you all looking at me?” she demands, only now frowning as she seems to register her voice. “Why is my voice like…” she slowly trails off, before she slowly takes in her appearance, her eyes widening like saucers. “No fucking way!”

Before she can freak out, I’m forcing myself up, walking to stand before her, and pressing my hand against her lips. She looks confused, horrified, and insulted that I would even dare, while she’s forced to look upward because our height difference is rather obvious now with her being my usual feminine height.

“Don’t freak out because none of us have the fucking time,” I say far more roughly than I intend to. I don’t even know why I’m acting like this, feeling this sudden need to despise her. In truth though, it was called for when he was male, but pretty much unwarranted with him as a female. “Breathe. Walk. Follow, and we’ll confront shit later. Can you do that?”

She has no choice but to slowly nod against my hand that’s still pressed onto her lips. There’s this weird odd satisfaction in witnessing him be “submissive” to me.

If I can even call this confrontation anything close to submission.

Regardless, it’s enough for me because time is ticking.

And I need to distract myself, and how the tightness between my groin and my pants is feeling more obvious by the second.

I wrinkle my nose, trying not to acknowledge the sweet scent Nikolai gives off, but I also realize we can’t really be calling “her” Nikolai. No different to how I switch between Gwenivere and Gabriel.

Which prompts me to act accordingly.

“Nikki,” I mutter more to myself than to anyone in particular, before I slowly look back over to Professor Eternalis. “Will Nikki’s…current attendance in our group be a problem?”

I want to know the implications revolving around a “female” being a part of our group dynamic so we know there’s no consequences for such company.

“There will be no punishments in having females within your group dynamic due to Faerie’s unique dynamics in magic,” she reveals with a slight smirk. “It will be explained, but for now, with time being a pressing matter?—”

“Understood,” I cut her off as I let my hand drop from Nikki’s mouth and spin around almost coldly. “We can proceed.”

I’m walking before anyone can stop me, leaving Nikki behind, hoping it’ll encourage Professor Eternalis to push us away from the gates.

I sense Atticus following almost instantly, him shortly behind my steps, and not giving off a need to question my odd behavior, which I’m a tad thankful for because I’m not sure why I’m acting like this.

Cold and annoyed? No…I don’t necessarily feel like that.

Maybe it’s just exhaustion nagging at me and I need a very long nap.

The idea of resting seems far too inviting.

Professor Eternalis ends up leading the way, the rest of our group catching up, which has me walking in lead with Atticus on my right side and Nikki slightly trailing behind on my left. I can sense Mortimer and Cassius are right behind, walking a tad slower as if to make sure we’re protected from anything that can potentially jump us if we’re threatened to fall into another questionable trial.

I catch Nikki examining her reflection in a decorative mirror positioned along our route. The Fae's expression shifts from shock to calculation to something approaching resigned determination. Whatever caused this transformation, she appears to be adjusting with characteristic adaptability, already analyzing advantages and challenges presented by her new form.

I also notice how it’s taking her double the steps to keep up with our pace, which irritates me enough to walk even faster, which surely ruins our formation, but I’m too irritable to acknowledge or care.

Cassius ends up moving closer to my side, shadows briefly touching mine in a gesture that suggests both reassurance and warning. I kind of miss Grim’s presence, wondering if when we’re settled he’ll pop back in his miniature form, but I know this isn’t the time for that right now.

Atticus maintains position slightly behind us, creating a formation that places me at center with my bond mates positioned strategically around.

The arrangement feels natural rather than forced, our group unconsciously adopting a defensive posture appropriate for unknown territory.

Even Mortimer, typically independent in his movements, integrates himself into our loose formation with a scholar's precision.

The corridor stretches before us, unfamiliar despite architectural similarities to Year One spaces.

The lighting carries subtle differences – warmer tones that should feel welcoming but somehow amplify shadows in ways that create unsettling depth. Decorative elements incorporate more organic patterns than the strict geometric designs dominating previous areas, vines and flowers reminiscent of the gate's ornamentation appearing with increasing frequency as we proceed.

My pendant continues its gentle pulse against my skin, the magical energy signature shifting subtly as we move deeper into Year Two territory.

The sensation isn't unpleasant but carries unmistakable warning – these new spaces recognize and respond to our advancement tokens, adjusting ambient magical fields accordingly. Whatever monitoring systems track student movements have acknowledged our official status change.

We’re going to have to learn all of this swiftly if we want to adapt and be ready for the swiftness of this potential year.

I’m unsure how things will roll this time around.

Will we have classes? Attend a few seminars before we’re thrown down the rabbit hole again.

I’m so wrapped up in my head, that it takes Atticus’ hand that ends up wrapping around mine to pull me out of the unexpected spiraling. I’m still keeping up my strides and following, but I guess my mind wandered far and fast for Atticus to notice my unease.

He doesn’t say anything, even though I’m sure this may look awkward with two male students holding hands so boldly, but I guess it doesn’t matter since I haven’t seen anyone else aside from our group thus far.

I doubt Atticus even cares or else he wouldn’t have initiated this.

Lightly squeezing his hand back, I’m thankful to have his support thus far.

I glance at Nikolai again, wondering how her transformation affects the bond between us. The mark above my heart – currently hidden beneath Gabriel's masculine glamour matched with the obvious buttoned dress shirt of this uniform – maintains its warmth and connection, but with altered resonance that matches her changed energy signature.

Not weakened but different, like an instrument retuned to a new key while playing the same melody.

Similarly, Cassius's bond at my neck and Atticus's mark at my wrist and the newly acquired ones on my thighs continue their respective pulses without disruption, suggesting fundamental connections transcend physical transformations.

This resilience offers reassurance amid unsettling changes – whatever manipulations Year Two imposes, our bonds remain intact.

Professor Eternalis leads us around another corner, her stride confident and unhurried. The casual pace suggests no immediate danger awaits, yet tension radiates from my companions with increasing intensity as we proceed. Something about this transition feels fundamentally wrong beyond the obvious transformations – underlying wrongness we can sense but not yet identify.

Mortimer catches my eye briefly, scholarly gaze communicating subtle warning. Whatever occurred during our dimensional separation left him with knowledge he hasn't shared, information that makes him view our advancement with warranted suspicion rather than academic satisfaction.

The subtle head shake he offers suggests questions should wait until we're beyond Eternalis's immediate supervision.

The pendant at my throat warms further as we approach what appears to be a residential area – dormitories for Year Two students based on architectural cues similar to Year One housing but with noticeable upgrades in both security features and comfort elements.

The advancement tokens seem to respond to proximity, perhaps keyed to specific locations within Academy grounds.

I catalog details automatically, mind operating on parallel tracks – conscious observation of immediate surroundings and deeper consideration of implications regarding Nikolai's transformation, Mortimer's displaced consciousness during the trial, and the mysterious "Lord" Lysth mentioned before his death.

Each element suggests patterns I can't quite grasp yet, connections obscured by deliberate misdirection rather than coincidental complexity.

Eternalis stops before a door larger and more ornately decorated than surrounding entrances. Unlike the standardized accommodations of Year One, this portal suggests customization specific to its intended occupants – our group particularly, based on the five symbols carved into its surface that correspond to our respective magical signatures.

"Your shared quarters," she announces with practiced professionalism that doesn't quite mask the satisfaction underlying her tone. "Adjusted to accommodate your unique...situation."

The emphasis on that final word draws my attention. Nikki stiffens slightly, newly feminine features arranging themselves into carefully neutral expression that doesn't quite hide the calculation occurring behind those green-gold eyes.

"Is this transformation permanent?" she asks directly, gesturing to her altered form with elegant precision.

Eternalis's mismatched eyes gleam with something approaching amusement.

"That depends entirely on you," she responds cryptically. "Year Two reveals truths rather than imposes falsehoods. What appears as transformation may simply be revelation of what always existed beneath convenient facades."

Interesting?

The philosophical non-answer does nothing to address practical concerns, yet suggests a deeper purpose behind Nikolai's changed state.

If Year Two truly "reveals truths," does that mean the Fae prince carried female aspects all along, hidden beneath male presentation? The possibility seems remote given everything I know about him, yet cannot be dismissed entirely given my own dual nature.

"And Gabriel?" Cassius inquires, shadows coiling with subtle protective intensity around my shoulders. "Why maintain that particular...facade?"

Eternalis's smile broadens slightly.

"The Academy recognizes appropriate moments for each revelation," she states, tone suggesting recitation of established policy rather than personal opinion. "Some truths emerge when circumstances demand, others when foundations have been properly established."

More cryptic philosophy that avoids direct explanation.

Her consistent evasion suggests either lack of complete information or deliberate policy regarding information distribution to advancing students. Either possibility warrants caution rather than confrontation at this stage.

"Rest," she advises, gesturing toward the door with jeweled fingernails that catch light in hypnotic patterns. "Recover from your trial. Classes begin tomorrow, and Year Two curriculum demands considerably more than what you've experienced thus far."

More than what we’ve experienced thus far.

The dread that already spreads must be felt by everyone in our group as an eerie silence follows her words.

With that ominous advice, she turns and proceeds back down the corridor, jewel-encrusted skirt catching light with each deliberately graceful step. The confidence in her departure suggests absolute certainty that we'll comply with implied instructions rather than immediately investigate our changed circumstances.

Atticus waits until she's fully out of earshot before speaking.

"That went well," he observes with dry sarcasm that breaks the tension gripping our group. "Nothing suspicious at all about any of this."

Nikolai – still visibly processing her transformation – manages a glare that carries all the aristocratic disdain of her male form despite altered features.

"Your talent for stating the obvious remains undiminished," she retorts, voice higher but inflection unchanged.

Before these two get into it, Mortimer further steps forward.

"Should we enter?" Mortimer inquires, scholarly practicality cutting through developing argument. "These corridors likely maintain surveillance comparable to Year One facilities."

The reminder of potential observation sobers us immediately.

Whatever private discussions need to occur should happen behind closed doors rather than exposed hallways, regardless of how suspicious immediate compliance might appear.

I approach the door, pendant warming further as proximity increases. The five symbols carved into the wooden surface pulse with subtle light as I near them – shadow for Cassius, gold for Nikolai, crimson for Atticus, dual hybrid markings for me, and scaled pattern for Mortimer.

"Recognition wards," I murmur, examining the magical construct without touching it directly. "Keyed to our specific signatures rather than generic student authorization."

"Advanced security," Cassius observes, shadows extending cautiously toward the door. "Far beyond Year One protocols."

"Or advanced monitoring," Atticus counters, crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Depends whether you consider us valued assets or potential threats. They used this type of ward and protections in lower prison wards. "

“Lower?” Cassius inquires.

“The lower you go, the more lethal a prisoner is,” Atticus reveals. “Don’t ask what level I was on. You won’t like it.”

As if that doesn’t leave me completely curious.

With careful deliberation, I place my palm against the door's central panel where the five symbols converge. The pendant at my throat pulses once, warmth spreading through my chest as magical recognition completes its verification cycle.

The door swings open silently, revealing our assigned quarters for Year Two – and whatever revelations await within those walls.

Let’s get to unravelling.