Gothicana

CHAPTER 1

Corvina

Corvina had never heard of the University of Verenmore. But then again, she hadn’t heard of most normal things, not with her upbringing. However, nobody else had heard of it either.

Holding the letter that she got weeks ago in her hands – a letter written in ink on browned, thick paper that smelled as old, beloved books did – she perused the words again.

Dear Miss Clemm,

The University of Verenmore is pleased to extend our offer of admission to you. For over a century, we have enlisted students who come from special backgrounds to attend our esteemed institution. Your name was referred to us by the Morning Star Psychiatric Institute.

We would like to offer you a full scholarship to our associate undergraduate course at Verenmore. This degree will give you access to some exclusive circles going forward, and open many doors for you in the world. We believe with your academic records and personal history, you would be a good fit for our institution.

While we understand that this must be a difficult time for you, a decision must be made. Kindly revert to this letter at the attached address for further information. If we do not receive any response from you within 60 days, we will regretfully rescind the offer.

We hope to hear from you.

Regards,

Kaylin Cross,

Recruitment Specialist,

University of Verenmore

Corvina had never received a letter, much less one as bizarre as this.

And it was very bizarre.

She was a twenty-one-year-old girl who’d been home-schooled and secluded her whole life by her mother. Why would a university want an undergraduate student way past the normal age, one who didn’t have anything close to conventional schooling? And who even sent hand-written letters anymore?

Weird thing was, no one knew about the university. She’d tried to find something about it – asking the chief doctor at the facility, using her town library’s computer, and no one knew anything. Verenmore didn’t exist anywhere except on the map, a tiny blip, a small town by the same name in the valley of Mount Verenmore. That was all.

The school existed somewhere on the mountain that civilians weren’t usually allowed on. And she knew this because her taxi driver – a very kind man called Larry – had just told her so as he drove them up the mountain.

“Not a lot of folks ‘round here who go up to that castle ‘nymore,” Larry continued his barrage of information, winding the small private black car up the slightly inclined road. Corvina had found him right outside the train station when she’d come out. It had taken her two trains – one from Ashburn and the next from Tenebrae – and over twelve hours to get to Verenmore. Larry had been surprised when she’d given him her destination on the mountain, to the point he’d prayed before starting the car.

“And why is that?” Corvina asked, watching the little town get smaller in the distance as lush green swallowed her vision. She wasn’t used to conversation but needed to know as much as she could about the school she had agreed to go to. Not that she’d had anything better to do.

Living in the tiny cottage she’d grown up in, making jewelry and candles and doing readings to earn had become monotonous – especially when nobody in town except the old librarian had ever treated her with anything but suspicion. The letter of acceptance had come as a sign from the universe, and her mama had always told her never to ignore those. Corvina had always wanted to experience a school for the social nuances, study with other humans around her, and learn more about people who knew nothing about her. A clean slate to write whatever she wanted on it, however she wanted it. It was contradictory since she was a loner, but she was an observer. Whenever she got the chance, she enjoyed people-watching. 

“Du

Corvina snorted. She doubted that. Old places and things, in her experience, had a tendency to get labeled as haunted over time. But she also wanted to keep her mind open.

“And is it? Haunted, I mean?” she asked, still curious to know more about the mysterious university.

The driver glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror before focusing on the road again. “You stayin’ at the castle or visitin’, miss?”

“Staying,” she told him, glancing down at the letter in her hand and stuffing it in the brown leather bag that had belonged to her grandmother. It had been the only thing she had gotten from anyone besides her mother.

“I’d say keep your wits ‘bout you,” the driver concentrated as the incline got steeper. “Du

Silence reigned after that for a few minutes. Corvina rolled her window down slightly, looking out at the natural, incredible beauty of the mountain. The sight was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Where she came from, the woods had been more yellow and the air more humid.

As the cold, dry air whipped through the dark strands that had escaped her fishtail braid, Corvina let herself take in the abundance of deep, dark verdant that expanded below her, the little town a small clearing in the middle of the thicket. The scent of flora unknown filtered in through the open window, the sky a cloudy pale imitation of itself.

The music that had been on low through the ride crackled as they went higher. Corvina looked at the dashboard as the driver sighed. “Happens every time,” he told her. “Signal gets worse up there.”

Corvina felt herself frown. “Then how does the school communicate?”

The driver shrugged. “They got a boy they send down to town generally. To send letters, use the internet, such.”

“And this is the only road up and down the mountain?” She was quieter usually, although she didn’t know if that was a natural tendency or a lack of someone to talk to. Living alone at the edge of her small town, Skarsdale, as an outcast, she had sometimes gone days without even hearing the sound of her own voice. 

“Yeah,” the driver nodded, steering through a bend. Corvina grabbed the handle on the side to keep from falling. The first time she had gotten inside a car, claustrophobia had assaulted her. Her mother and she had always gone to town on foot. She had seen cars but she’d never been inside one, not until the day they came for her and put her in one. She’d thankfully found the claustrophobia manageable as long as she kept the air circulating inside.

“Anything else I should know about the castle?” she asked once they were over the curve in the mountain, the fog thickening in front of the windshield, air getting fresher, lighter as they ascended.

The driver hesitated, his eyes flickering to her odd, violet ones – she’d inherited them from her mama – in the mirror briefly. “There’s some rumors, miss. Du

Another curve.

Corvina looked out the window, breathing in the crisp, cool air, realizing the view she had admired moments ago had disappeared under the thick white fog. It might have scared some people but Corvina had always found comfort in the oddities.

A slight smile on her lips, she waited until the driver navigated the curve safely before prompting him. “What rumors?”

“Strange thin’s,” the driver supplied, his accent heavier. “People killin’ themselves, goin’ missin’, as such. Now, we du