by Jade Alters
The second we’re inside, Dragonlord Thise steps back to the other side of the stone altar. She rounds it to her high-backed seat amongst her companions, fellow representatives of each of the core races at the Academy. Cece follows close at my side, to the center of the broken stone circle. It has an opening just wide enough for visitors like us to be presented on the shimmering teal platform that lights the whole room. If there are walls inside, I can’t see them from the platform. Behind the backs of the Council of Six, beyond where the teal light reaches, there appears to be only an empty void. Only darkness. The faces of each of the Council converge on us, floating in the dark as if they each have a chilling ghost story to share. Cece shoots me a nervous glance as we stand on display at the center of the spotlight. I try to give her the same reassuring nod my recruiter gave me. I only hope it doesn’t show on my face how nervous I am.
“Cecelia Ford,” Dragonlord Thise announces. Cece faces her, a woman with sparse cracks of aged wisdom who looks about as human as she does. “You…prefer to be called Cece, yes?”
“Is it too early in the conversation for me to ask how you know that?” Cece asks. I tense up - the balls on this girl! I’m not sure if I feel more relieved or panicked when Dragonlord Thise cracks a grin.
“You’re aware of the Soul of Fire, yes? It allows you to mentally connect with other Dragons over long distances,” Thise asks her. Cece nods. “Lee shared this with me during his rescue report.” I feel Cece’s eyes veer over to me from the side. I feel her betrayal and fear through the very connection she thinks I violated. I decide now’s not the best time for me to explain to her that all I’ve done was for her wellbeing.
“Now…we find the best way to initiate a new student to the Academy is immersion first, explanation later. In the interest of this, each of us, on the Council of Six that represents the races welcome at the Academy, will introduce ourselves. You will see more beings like each of us every day hence. Do you understand?” Thise asks.
“Yes,” Cece tells her, not without respect, but without the Ma’am that I would have added.
“Very good. I will start, as your patron Council representative. I am Dragonlord Thise. Should you need any personal counsel concerning the things you are about to learn…you passed my office on the way in,” Thise tells her. Her wrinkled lips curl into the rare smile, the same one that inspired me to do what was done for me, for others.
“I am Magister Horace. I represent the Magicians of the Broken Academy,” says the dark tan man with the full brown beard at the far end of the altar. His shimmering cape of stars sets him a rank above from all other Master Magicians at the Academy.
“I am Sorceress Lily. I stand for every Witch and Warlock that comes through our doors,” smiles the next Councilmember down the line. Her hair is pulled back around her ears in a hundred blonde cascades. No other Witch in the Academy can call themselves Sorceress. Neither can they wear the sapphire tiara tucked in her locks that so happens to perfectly match her stunning eyes.
“I am Chief Shifter Botan. My family has long led the Shapeshifters of the Ahwahneechee Tribe on the ground and at the Academy,” rumbles the next man down the line. His bare chest has sagged with age but shows the echoes of once profoundly chiseled muscle. His long silver hair is parted to one side, held back in a ponytail by a rough tie and adorned with several feathers of rank. When the next man speaks, I feel tension surge through Cece from toes to nose.
“I am VampKing Lucidous. The Vampires of the Broken Academy study under my wing,” says the tall, pale man at the altar beside Thise. The pale VampKing is a hulking figure wrapped in enough dark layers to hide it all. His eyes swim with a ruby fluid, different to any man I’ve ever seen. His long nose pokes down over his lips, which hide a mouth full of perfect teeth. I watch Cece eyeing him for fangs - she can’t know they retract until use.
“I am Fey Rorelia,” announces the last member in the introductory circle, “I represent what we call the Shadewalkers. There are also Astrals and Demons. We are not of this Realm, so we are grouped together as one group.” Cece hardly bats an eye at the mint-skinned, long-orange-haired Fey at the fringe of the altar. Her eyes burn a hole in the VampKing’s head.
“Vampire?” Cece’s voice echoes through the blackness, “You’re a Vampire?” She takes a bold step across our shimmering platform. The Council doesn’t so much as blink. I, however, seize her wrist as hard as I can. Our embers collide in the Soul of Fire.
“It’s not him,” I tell her, without moving my lips.
“How do you know?” Cece’s insidious hate surges into my mind. “I’d have said you were crazy before, but if fucking Vampires exist, then that’s what it was. He killed-”
“Cece. There are a lot of Vampires at the Academy. Lucidous didn’t kill Jason,” I insist. My grip tightens around her searing wrist.
“How do you know?” Cece repeats. Her fury whips around to crash into me now.
“Because I… I saw what happened. Through your mind. I didn’t mean to, but when we first connected, I saw it,” I tell her. The drop in Cece’s temperature chills even me, through touch. “You didn’t get a great look at the guy, but it wasn’t Lucidous. He wasn’t nearly that big, and the VampKing doesn’t feed at an Academy training ground! Trust me on this one.” I feel the connection snap between us like a twig. Cece yanks her arm away from me, but she does plant her feet and stay.
“Care to explain that question, Cece?” Thise asks gently. Cece bites her lip hard enough to squeeze a red drop out of it.
“Cece’s brother was-”
“No… I can do it,” Cece stops me. She makes eye contact with no one throughout the explanation. She hangs so limp, like the puppeteer of her strings has fallen asleep. “A few days ago…a Vampire killed my brother in an alley in San Francisco. Punctured his neck and let him bleed out.” She spits out the details like she’s reading them from a script. The Council’s heads turn in, each of them seeking their own counsel in the eyes of another. More than one of them turns a suspicious eye on Lucidous. His face, however, belies as much concern as anyone else. “It was in your Academy training zone… It was one of yours.”
“Tha-tha-that’s true, about the location, I mean,” I jump in. “An alley right off Valencia Street. I confirmed the spot.” That quiets the Council’s chatter a bit. Each of them agrees without saying, who should speak for them next.
“Cece… I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Transitioning into an Academy life is hard enough… I assure you we will conduct an investigation,” says Dragonlord Thise. Cece’s fists ball up at her sides. When she speaks, however, her anger is tame. It’s just a reflex.
“Transitioning… That implies I’ll be attending. Do I…have a choice in the matter?” Cece asks. A few of the other Councilmembers shoot one another looks, but Thise quiets their concerns with a hand in the air.
“Cece. The world outside the Academy is dangerous for you, and everyone around you. We can teach you-”
“What? How to be…a Dragon?” Cece scoffs. I wince at my shoes. Even after what she’s seen, she still doesn’t believe. Not fully.
“We can teach you how to live a life most people only dream about,” Thise tells her.
“So…I don’t have a choice,” Cece says, numb.
“No,” Thise confirms. With this, all semblance of Cece fades away. She becomes a posed mannequin while the words of the Council wash over her. “We’ll give you a few days to adjust. No classes yet. You’ll get your roster once you’ve settled in a little.” Cece doesn’t so much as nod. She just stares into the stone altar, to keep away from everyone’s expectant eyes. Part of me thinks she’s a hair’s breadth from flipping her fiery lid. Before that can happen, Thise gives me the signal nod. I take Cece’s arm.
“Hey. Let me show you to your room,” I whisper. Cece doesn’t move on her own, but she lets me take her arm. When I pull, she follows. The sliding glass pane shuts the Council inside the chamber with their thoughts. As we pass th
e waiting desk, the Fey clerk sings:
“Welcome to the Broken Academy.”
Roomies
Cece, The Broken Academy, D Wing
No one tries to talk to me in the dead of night this time. No Soul of Fire for me. I guess Lee figures it’s time to give me just a little space. Time to settle in a little. Thise has to be fucking kidding. I mean, she has the title Dragonlord before her name. Good luck getting me to take a thing that comes out of her damn mouth seriously. You pluck me from my life, tell me I’m - what, some kind of other species - and drop me in a school full of supposedly dangerous creatures like me? The most dangerous thing I’ve seen so far here is a skin condition and pointy ears. Then again…part of me can’t help but think how normal I look to the world at large, when not under extreme duress. If I consider that the whole place is bullshit, it’s only fair I consider the contrary. It’s all true. Everyone here is as much a monster as I am. I could believe it the easiest about that slim husk, Lucidous.
Those eyes… They look like they belong in the settings on a pretty ring, or some rich woman’s earrings. I didn’t get a clear look at the eyes of the guy who bit Jason, so how could Lee know it wasn’t him? Even if Lucidous isn’t the one who directly ruined my life, he said himself that all Vampires at the Academy study under his wing. Until such time I feel the neck of the man who killed my brother in the pulsing grip of my fingers, Lucidous is first on the chopping block as far as I’m concerned.
My room is comfortable enough, and quiet, when Lee drops me off. I find an empty bed in the corner without turning on the lights, flop on the admittedly soft mattress, and try to sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to devolve into a cycle of frustration at how much I actually wish Lee would talk to me. It takes the vacuum of his silence to show me just how much of a coping mechanism he’s become for me, only in a day. He is, after all, the last shard of my old life to follow me here. Without him, it’s a completely alien experience.
But I’ve never needed male companionship. How can you need what you can’t have? Except…I could have Lee. It’s not like I’d burn him. I squeeze my eyes shut to force out the thoughts. I drive the back of my skull into my pillow. I dive into sleep by the power of sheer stubborn resentment.
The downside to actually sleeping, instead of drifting around the Soul of Fire, is the disconnect between where my brain is trained to think I’ll wake up and where I actually wake up. A sliver of golden light slides across my cheek. It’s just enough to stir me to a pre-waking twilight. I stretch out my legs under silken sheets. I press my elbows down to crack my stiff back all along the arch of my spine. I even let out a contented little grunt before my eyes open. The second they do, everything relaxing about the experience vacates my mind. I’ve never seen this room before. It takes my brain a second to recollect how in the hell I got here.
A crimson carpet with an outward blooming design of golden trimmed flowers marks the floor between two raised beds. I’m laid down on one of them, the other is on the opposite side of the little suite. Beneath mine is a storage drawer and cabinet. Beneath the one across from me is a glass-topped desk with a little yellow bendy-lamp over the top of it. The walls are painted a solid, dull gray, accented with posters of self-control and school policies. One over the bed opposite mine reads A.I.M.
Always integrate.
Instinct management.
Mastery of ability.
Great. I haven’t been here a day and I’m already having messages rammed down my throat. I slide off the edge of the bed and cross the room in my underwear to tear it down. On the way, I cross the only window in the room. The curtains are pulled back to show a view designed to strike me with just how far from home I am. The second my eyes wander to it, my feet cement to the floor. I’m locked in a stare down with blue sky, clouds, and California’s sprawling landscape of arid hills. It’s something that belongs on drone footage, or on the other side of an airplane window. Not the view from a glorified dorm room. I wander to the windowsill. My fingers slide alongside the warm wooden trim automatically while I stare at it all. Between those high, bare peaks are thick blankets of forest around a spider-webbed network of rivers. It’s enough to make me forget about the poster for a second. The thunderous door slam behind me wipes it completely from my memory.
“Shit. Just perfect,” a girl groans behind me. I wheel around, crossing my arms over my bra on instinct. The disadvantage of being almost naked immediately puts me at odds with this girl, who just walked right into my room. She heaves a backpack off her shoulders onto the other bed in the room and crosses her arms right back at me.
“Nice to meet you, too. What the hell are you doing here?” I reflect the girl’s hostility right back at her. Her skin is a shade darker than mine. Her bangs are pulled back in a crown of braids around her head, while the rest dances in black curls down her back. Her green eyes burn into mine while her curvy lips bend into a frown. Her thigh-high shorts and frilly, v-neck tank top look more appropriate for a gym than a classroom.
“Who did you think this other bed was for?” the girl bites. I feel my fingers twitch dangerously close to a fist already.
“I got here in the middle of the night. I didn’t see,” I try. I take long, quiet breaths in through my nose and let them leak out the side of my lips. It’s an exercise I’ve done a thousand times with my Mom to calm down.
“Yeah, I know when you got here. You know why? Because our Wing Supervisor told me this morning. Who ships in a new roommate in the middle of the night? Without telling the one who already lives in the room?” the girl demands. She stomps across the room to the desk under her bed. If she wasn’t so aggressive, I might actually feel the slightest hint of sympathy for the girl.
“Apparently the Dragonlord,” I tell her, equally irritated, “Trust me. I don’t exactly want to be here either. I wasn’t offered a door number two.” The girl scoffs into her open drawer. She rifles around for a change of clothes while she goes on without the courtesy of eye contact.
“Listen to you. Nobody wants to be here. We’re here because we have to be,” the girl tells me. I want so badly to cross the room. I want to put a fist-shaped dent in the side of her face. Instead, I suck air in through my nose, hardly quiet anymore. Now my airways work like a power-vac and a leaf blower. It’s the only way to keep from superheating. I can’t imagine, if someone told her about me, that she’d push me like this lightly.
“I can respect that this is a surprise,” I grumble to the girl’s back, “It seems like you probably had a shit morning, too. But I just got here. I just stepped out of my old life, and into…this. Can we work with one another here? A little?” At this, the girl finally turns to face me. I can’t read the look on her face, not any more precisely than: she’s upset. She puts her clothes down on the desk behind her, and meets me in the middle on our thick red carpet.
“I’m River Murtagh,” the introduction comes with a rigid hand. I take it in my own.
“I’m Cece Ford,” I tell her. We both give it a solid shake, then let one another go.
“No, Cece, we can’t work with one another,” River says, and her face contorts in an expression I can’t quite place. It just doesn’t seem to fit with the situation - sure, she’s aggravated about something, but she looks like I just hit her. “I told them… No one else, besides Stephanie. I can’t hurt her. But you… Just keep away from me and we won’t have a problem.” River breaks away for the little corridor beside my bed. I see, as my disbelieving eyes follow her, it leads to a small bathroom.
“River, hey,” I catch her arm just before she disappears inside. When our skin connects this time, it’s a very different sensation. I feel her power, whatever it might be, as a rapid vibration against my hand. She feels mine as a finger-shaped burn searing into her arm. I don’t mean to make her more tense, but how could I leave things at that when I’m going to see this girl every day I’m a prisoner here? “We’re stuck with one another. Don’t you think-”
“Let go of me,
Cece,” River growls. The pain surges through her face, along with something else entirely. Her cheeks, chin, and forehead begin to dimple and bulge subtly. It’s like her head is a water balloon, and I’ve just sent a shockwave through it. “Don’t…touch me.” But now I’m too frightened to even realize how hard I’m grabbing her.
“River. Please-”
“LET GO!” River’s voice warps as the cry explodes. At the tail end of it, it sounds just like the screech of a big cat. I’m not entirely sure what happens to her, as my vision distorts with the bash that flings me against the wall. By the time my feet slide back down and I still my fuzzy eyes, River is gone. I now share our little bathroom corridor with a full-size tiger.
“What the…” I mutter, only to find the wind’s been knocked from my chest. A guttural rumble dances up and down the beast’s throat. Then it lunges. I slide down the wall to avoid being squashed by its huge paws. Each of them leaves a dent in our wall. I sprint out to the open space between our beds, the rumble of mighty legs hot on my heels. When the shock wears off and I realize I’ll never outrun the beast, I plant my feet, spin and pop the lock on the rage I’ve been holding back. A single stomp towards the tiger triggers a tiny fireburst on the carpet, right beneath its chest. The plume launches the cat back into the hallway on its back. It rolls over, shaking the embers from its singed under-fur. I lock onto its green eyes through the resultant smoke. “River… Shapeshifter… Shit…” I pant. The unspoken words screech through my mind - they’re real. It’s all real.
River leaps again, both paws up. This time, her wicked claws slide out to turn me to ribbons. Instinct snaps up both of my hands. I’m not sure what I mean to do, but a pop deafens us both. The heat wave sends out a shockwave that would send any other tiger sailing. But this beast isn’t just a tiger. The very second the sound shakes our walls, River’s form bunches up into a tiny ball over my head. I hear wings flap, but I hardly have time to spot the bat before she shifts again. Her body twists out - wings into humanoid hands, feet into the same. Her monkey tail wraps around my throat while she yanks my hair and everything else she can get a nail in. Little cuts open all around my midsection while I trudge backwards into the wall.