Page 117 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

Welcoming, even.

Gold accents catch the morning light —picture frames, drawer handles, the edging on an antique mirror— but their obvious expense is softened by the abundance of plants.

Ferns cascade from hanging baskets, while potted orchids add spots of vibrant color to various surfaces. The overall effect is both opulent and organic, as if nature herself had decided to decorate a palace suite.

As I make my way toward what I assume is the bathroom, my attention is caught by the collection of photographs adorning one wall. I pause, drawn in by moments captured without pretense or posing.

These have to be Nikolai's quarters — his presence is the common thread running through each image. Some show him alone, standing before famous landmarks with that slight smile that seems to say he knows secrets about the place that others could never guess.

But it's the group photos that truly capture my attention.

There's one of him and Cassius that makes me pause, studying the rare sight of both of them genuinely smiling.

They're holding beers, their postures relaxed in a way I haven't witnessed yet. The comfortable camaraderie between them is obvious, even in this frozen moment.

Another shows Nikolai and Mortimer in what must be some vast library, caught mid-discussion.

Their expressions are animated, hands gesturing to emphasize whatever point they're debating. It's probably the most natural photo possible of their dynamic — two scholars lost in the pursuit of knowledge.

But it's the last picture that truly draws me in.

Cassius, Nikolai, and Mortimer stand in what appears to be an exclusive club, their attire speaking of wealth and refinement. The setting oozes luxury — crystal chandeliers casting golden light over rich wooden paneling and artwork that probably costs more than small countries.

Between Nikolai and Cassius stands a fourth figure, someone whose features trigger a sense of familiarity I can't quite place.

He's handsome in a scholarly way, wire-rimmed glasses framing intelligent eyes, his smile both genuine and slightly mysterious.

There's something about the way he fits into their group that catches my attention.

His hand rests casually on Nikolai's waist while the other grips Cassius's shoulder, but the placement doesn't feel random. The casual intimacy suggests a deeper connection, something beyond mere friendship.

But what truly captures my attention is the backdrop.

The ornate wallpaper, the specific pattern of the wood paneling, the unique design of the chandeliers — I've seen this place before. Not in person, but in books and newspapers, usually accompanying stories about the elite of supernatural society.

The setting alone speaks volumes about the connections these men possess. This isn't just any high-end club — it's one of the most exclusive establishments in existence, known for catering to only the highest echelons of paranormal society.

The fact that they were not only admitted but comfortable enough to take photos suggests levels of influence I hadn't fully appreciated.

My fingers reach out to trace the edge of the frame, noting the quality of the paper, and the professional nature of the printing. This wasn't some casual snapshot — it was a deliberate documentation of a moment that held significance for all involved.

The lighting in the photo is perfect, highlighting the easy companionship between them all. Even Mortimer, usually so formal and reserved, shows a hint of genuine warmth in his expression. They look like they belong there, in that rarefied atmosphere of power and privilege.

The contrast between the men in the photo and the ones I've come to know makes my head spin slightly. These aren't just students at Wicked Academy — they're players on a much larger stage, with connections and influences I'm only beginning to comprehend.

And somehow, I've managed to entangle myself with them all.

The thought should probably terrify me more than it does. After all, I came here with a simple goal: find the chalice, save Elena, and get out.

Instead, I've found myself bound to not one but two of them, wrapped up in politics and powers I barely understand.

And whoopie, now I get to attend the academy as a boy.

How grand.

The morning light streaming through nearby windows catches on the glass covering the photo, creating a prism effect that draws my attention to other details I might have missed at first glance.

Like a very familiar vampire in the background that I’m now just noticing.

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