Day isn't a big morning person, and he definitely still hasn't grown to love the feeling of his pillows vibrating under his head. Though, he still prefers that as a method of waking up than shooting upright in his bed, to recover from a bad dream. He had fallen asleep with his shirt on, exhausted from the task – the shirt now sticking to his back with sweat. Day uses the back of his hand to rub the sleep and remnants of the nightmare away. He glances around at his sleeping dorm mates, grateful that no one had noticed his struggling sleeping habits.

Shoving the blanket away from his body, he walks toward the bathroom door, walking past the open window letting fresh air into the room. The muscles in his back tense, his arms gripping the basin.

Knock, knock.

Day turns around, catching his dishevelled state reflected in the mirror.

"Come in," he answers, almost tempted to respond in the opposite manner.

Alec pops his head in, looking apologetic.

"Sorry, I just need my speaker," Alec explains, nodding his head towards the black object sitting on the wall shelf next to the shower.

Day nods, and faces the mirror again, grabbing his toothbrush and the minty toothpaste.

"You ready for your date with Raylene today?"

Day shrugs. "I think so."

"Not too confident now, are we?" Alec mocks, making his head way to the door.

With the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Day does his best to reply clearly, "I don't know, I haven't gone on a date with a witch since year nine – I mean, grade nine or freshman, whatever you Americans call it."

"You know I'm Italian right?"

Day raises an eyebrow. "Hardly counts if you've spent most of your life here."

"Touche. But dating a witch might be easier than a civisal. Less secrets, more understanding."

"I suppose," Day replies, spitting out the toothpaste.

"Good luck though, she seems cool. Don't screw it up."

With those words, Alec leaves a pondering Day, closing the wooden bathroom door behind him.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

"She's a bombshell, isn't she?" Terence Belikov says, as Day and Alec take their seat with the boys at breakfast. Day glances at his roommates, wondering if they're just as surprised at the bold statement coming out of Terence's mouth. Terence of all people.

"Who is a bombshell? And can I be introduced?" Alec asks, mirth lacing his voice.

"Sierra Kingsley," replies Orion.

Day's eyebrows rise.

"Amen to that," Alec adds.

Day's eyebrows lift higher.

Catching the surprised look on Day's face, Orion asks, "What? You don't agree that Sierra is pretty?"

"It's not that – ," Day starts but is interrupted by a smirking Alec.

"Day's a loyal man now, he only has eyes for Raylene."

Day rolls his eyes, before adding, "I haven't even gone on the date yet and you're ready to tie me down."

"Do you still think Sierra is responsible for everything?" Orion asks, trying to pass the question casually.

Day looks up from his food and glances at Orion, taking in his grim face. Day simply shakes his head, not even offering an explanation for his change in heart. Unlike what Alec expects, Orion seems to accept that. But that might have to do with Orion's attention drifting towards Noah Woods.

"Orion." Alec beams. "Your gay is showing."

Orion splutters, his orange juice spraying everywhere.

"What?" Orion exclaims, his voice almost a screech. "How did you know?"

Terence looks at the boys at the table and hesitates. "You told us, a few days ago when we were drinking."

Orion's eyes narrow. "I don't remember that."

"I'm not surprised, mate," Day says, chuckling. "You were pretty fucking rinsed."

"And you guys are cool with it?" Orion asks, shifting awkwardly with anxiety.

Alec squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. "Of course!"

"I think Alec was just offended that you said he wasn't your type," Day adds with a snort and shake of his head.

"I still refuse to believe that," Alec points out, his fork motioning towards Orion.

Orion rolls his eyes. "You're prat. No wonder Amisha is sick of your shit."

Day laughs along with Terence at the unimpressed look on Alec's face. Day wonders if Orion should begin sleeping with one eye open.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

Raylene Tan is gorgeous. Those are the four

words that Day thinks as the aforementioned witch walks down the stairs and meets him near the gates of the academy. Raylene Tan looks smashing in her black wrap dress that reaches her knees. Her dark long hair frames her face, and simple studs adorn her ears. She wears no other jewellery besides a silver chain-like bracelet on her wrist.

"You look great," Day says, as she reaches him.

Raylene smiles.

"Not too bad yourself, Blackwood."

Day chuckles and wonders if he should have put more effort into his outfit. He glances down to what he's wearing, jeans, shirt and a jacket. The usual.

"The carriage awaits, if you're ready."

Raylene grimaces, her nose wrinkling.

"Not sure, I could ever be ready for that."

With another chuckle, Day offers Raylene his hand. As her hand meets his, he smiles at her, knowing that the next few hours are going to be great.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

"Do you really think you'll find something different this time?" Amisha asks, looking at Sierra as the controller witch walks towards the courtyard with a tote bag hanging off one arm.

"No," Sierra replies, "but it's worth a shot."

Amisha glances at the tote bag, and gestures at it.

"What's in there that's got you clutching it like your life depends on it?"

Sierra's vision moves to the bag, as if just noticing her grip. She loosens her grip slightly.

"It's got some ingredients and things that might be helpful in giving us an idea on what we're dealing with."

Sierra walks into the courtyard, sits down on the cold, hard cement and places her bag on the ground. As Amisha joins her, Sierra pulls out the contents of her bag. Amisha's eyes move over the different types of herbs, mason jars with powders, and little jars with corks full of liquids.

Amisha raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you know what we're doing? This seems like the domain of a healer witch."

"Have you no faith?" Sierra doesn't wait for Amisha to answer. Instead she chatters, "It's alright, I'm not brewing a full-on potion or anything, this is actually part of the controller witch's curriculum, though in third year. But that's hardly the point."

"What are we doing anyways?" Amisha asks, getting comfortable on the ground and with the idea of putting her trust in Sierra.

Sierra picks up a jar with ominous black liquid in it.

"I'm going to create a little something that will allow me to go through what everyone has thought in this courtyard in the past twenty-one days."

Amisha looks at Sierra, trying to figure out how her brain works so incredibly.

"That's pretty brilliant. That should give us an idea on what happening here, why and hopefully who is behind it."

"Thank you," Sierra replies, a hint of a blush on her cheeks, not expecting the sweet sentiment from the usually cold witch.

She focuses on running her eyes over everything out in the open, going through a mental checklist. Her eyes widen.

"Oh shit!"

"What is it?" Amisha asks, looking more alert and concerned.

"I completely forgot the lily roots. Do you think you can grab them from my room? They should be on my bedside," Sierra requests. "While you do that, I can get started on this."

Amisha stands up. "Alright, don't get killed while I'm gone."

Sierra rolls her eyes. "I'll do my best."

As Amisha walks away, Sierra diverts her attention back onto the miscellaneous equipment and ingredients in front of her. She closes her eyes, thinking about the words that she had memorized.

With a sigh she begins with the black liquid and then the jar of something that looked a lot like Italian herbs. As her hands pour one thing into another, her eyes intently watch every measurement and action, even following the meniscus rule.

She grabs the red flower from her bag and places it on the ground. Next she gets the gel-like substance from one of the mason jars and pours it over the flower. With her right hand, she rolls and rubs the flower into the ground, making the petals shrivel and curl into bits.

As Sierra picks up the flower's bits, her ears prick up at the sound of heavy footsteps, that sound like Amisha's. Slowly, she turns behind her. But sees only the darkness.

"Reveal yourself," Sierra demands.

When nothing makes a move to meet her demand, Sierra takes a deep breath. She opens her mind, in a terrifying but powerful way. Sierra had been working on this, and now it was time to use it. She pokes holes into the walls protection her brain, allowing signals to come through.

Through the holes, she reaches out into the thoughts of every living organism in the courtyard. She reaches past the ants, and the owl perched on a pillar, she reaches out to the cloaked figure.

"Oh, don't be foolish," crows a deep voice.

Light is all Sierra sees as her chest gets hit with it. Her heart stops beating.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

It is white. She can see something white. The white is so close. Her eyelashes flutter, hoping to blink the white away. But what is left is only white. Her fingers brush past whiteness, and become the white. Sierra clenches her toes, and her body shivers as her toes wrap around the white.

She is the white.