by G. Bailey
Our fears, our heartaches, our pain… anything that affects us negatively, the magic pulsing through our veins latches on to them and grows stronger with every fruitless effort we make to fight them.
Some of us learn to control our dark sides, at least for a while. Others, like Nessa, never stand a chance from the moment they were turned into a shadowborn. This is why the academy exists: to teach magics like me how to accept our demons instead of hiding from them. Running, avoiding, suppressing, all these things merely worsen our condition. I learned that a long time ago, and I managed to accept my demons.
The darkest one of all is named Pitch, and he’s also my shadow.
Speaking of the devil, which he might be for all I know, Pitch doesn’t always talk to me. I guess he doesn’t really need to. His thoughts are my fears and my fears are his thoughts now. No matter where he goes, I can always sense him without looking. It’s inherent, not because I want it to be, but because we’re soul mates.
Literally.
The night that I died, I was the only light left within his swirling darkness, and he latched on to me by tethering my soul to his so we could both stay alive. He never meant for either of us to suffer and die. Only a child himself, he merely wanted to grant my birthday wish.
I never quite bought that either in the beginning. But despite all the anger and pain I felt towards him for many years later, I’ve come to accept that without him, without his darkness nestled around my heart, my soul would be incomplete. He’s a part of me whether I want him to be or not, and any time we’re apart, a gut-wrenching longing takes over me, and it burns right through to my core.
I turn back, seeing a shadow of a figure in the corner of the room, sitting on an empty bed. Sometimes Pitch looks like a man with broad shoulders, thick black hair, and alluring amber eyes. And sometimes, like this, he is just a shadow that blinks away before I can ask why he’s even here.
Clearing my throat, I leave and head down the corridor, my navy boots announcing every footstep in the dark, dimly lit hallway. Pushing the door open, I step out into the moonlight as Sage stands and turns to me, clutching her copy of the Book of Zorya in her hands. This is how I know she’s excited to go to the academy—she’s forever reading that damn book.
“Is it time?” she asks, and I simply nod. Hooking her arm in mine, we leave the garden and head to the front of the house. We walk outside, sitting on the brick wall, watching the stars in the sky.
“They say it’s so dark in the enchanted forest, and unless you have the blessing of the sun and moon, you can’t see where you walk,” she half-jokes, but I can tell she is nervous.
I roll my eyes at her. It can’t be that bad. “You need to stop reading that book. Wait and see. We will be there soon.”
She opens her book and starts reading, ignoring me completely.
“In the beginning, Aphrodite and Persephone decided to create a magical forest for all manner of creatures. They appeared in their natural form, unearthly beautiful and fae-like, and brought with them their favourite stars—the Morning Star and the Evening Star. They each placed them in the sky, and one became the sun and the other the moon,” she reads out, her voice being carried by the wind to poor unsuspecting humans who don’t want to hear a fairy tale like this.
A fairytale that quickly became a nightmare.
“I know, I know. Then monsters came to the forest. Blah, blah, blah,” I drone but she ignores me once more and carries on reading.
“Aphrodite became known as Danica, Goddess of the Sun, and she created the Throne of Helios where she would reign over her part of the forest. Persephone became Selena, Goddess of the Moon, and she created the Throne of Luna, again where she would rule her half of the forest. To their kingdoms, they became known as the Zorya Sisters…” She stops, turning the page and pausing in whatever she’s reading.
“I’ve heard the thrones are cursed and that’s why all the royal fae are crackers,” I whisper to her. Keeper Maddox and every keeper I’ve met talk like fae are these holy creatures and to speak badly about them is as forbidden as murder.
“Rumours, all rumours, Corvina,” she sighs, snapping the book shut. “Aren’t you excited to see a fae student? They’re meant to be very alluring and beautiful.”
Alluring and beautiful is exactly how I would describe Pitch.
But often those things just hide a person’s true nature like a cloud of smoke.
When I finally focus on Sage, her all too knowing eyes are watching me closely. “I know you’re scared. It’s okay to admit it to me, Corvina.”
“Since I became a shadowborn, I’ve been scared, Sage, but I’ve learnt that running from it only gives the fear more power. It’s better to face the darkness than run from it because one thing is for damn sure…” I pause as I see something coming down the road. “In our world, the darkness never lets you go.”
“Goodbye girls. I pray for your dark souls to be enlightened.”
Keeper Maddox’s words don’t make me or Sage feel any better as a carriage with five black horses halts in front of the foster home. The carriage door flickers open and metal stairs clink onto the pavement. I look up at where there should be someone directing the horses, but the seat is empty. The horses are huge, towering over me and Sage as they stomp on the ground every so often.
I look to Sage and back at the door. “You’re older, you go first.”
Sage all but huffs as she steps forward and climbs into the carriage.
I follow right after her, and the door slams shut behind me as I realise the carriage is a lot bigger on the inside than it looks. About fifteen students sit on leather seats that line the circular wall of the carriage, and there is a keeper in the middle, standing up. The only reason I know he is a keeper is because he wears their classic, boring-as-heck uniform. Navy blue shirts and trousers, because they’re completely still in fashion, black boots and a silver cloak that hangs off their shoulders. They wear a thick belt through the trousers where they always have a weapon, depending on what they like to use. This guy has three daggers. The silver shines from the spotlights of the carriage as I sit down next to Sage.
The keeper stares at me for a second too long before he pulls his wrist to his mouth. I suspect they have some magic spell enchanted into their wrists that allow them to talk to each other, but neither I nor Sage have been brave enough to ask.
“Finally, the last one is on board. Take us home,” the keeper orders.
Home. I wouldn’t exactly call the academy that.
The carriage lurches into motion, jolting everyone in our seats. The keeper crosses his arms, the movement not bothering him at all even though my ass slips off the seat every few jolts. I look around at the other students. None of them are bothering to make small talk and I’m not particularly inclined to start any. One of the girls sitting opposite Sage is staring at me like I’ve got horns protruding out from my skull. It’s a little unsettling, but even when I peel my gaze from her and to another student, they’re all radiating their own personal brand of sullenness. You could cut the tension in this carriage with a knife.
In what feels like seconds, the carriage comes to a halt and the keeper ducks by me, slamming open the door of the carriage, and the stairs fall down. I climb out, knowing he isn’t going to wait for us to be asked and I nearly trip on the stairs when I see where we are.
The edge of the enchanted forest.
The tall trees line the straight, barren road in the middle of nowhere. It looks like any kind of forest, but to those that have been in it, like me, it’s impossible to forget. The only noticeable difference is the row of torches pierced into the ground by the arched entrance, their green fire flickering against the softly rustling leaves.
The trees tower so high you’d imagine that they hit the sky, or at least I did as a child. I used to think that if I climbed high enough I would be able to touch the stars.
“Blimey. This is really happening,” Sage muses as I cautiously step closer.
Of course the horses were keepers. I should have seen that coming. We can shift to anything, after all. But once you shift into a certain creature so many times, it starts to become addictive. You feel more comfortable in one form as opposed to many.
My raven is my main shift, but then my wolf does like to come out and play sometimes, especially on a full moon.
“As it is in life, you do not have a guide. Find your own way or you won’t survive.”
Before I can even guess which keeper spoke, they all disappear into another cloud of smoke, leaving nothing behind apart from an old, endless road and the enchanted forest overshadowing us.
“It must be some kind of test,” Sage murmurs as everyone bursts into loud conversations. “We should just head into the forest and stick together.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agree, turning back to the forest that calls to me.
I can already hear the whispers of the faeries—the creatures that led me to my death. Pitch’s remorse for what happened cleaves through my train of thoughts, momentarily silencing the whispers. He doesn’t say anything through our telepathic link. He doesn’t need to. We’ve had the same discussion a million times before.
He never meant for me to die.
He also never meant to be so severely injured that he had no choice but to latch on to my soul. It was the only way for him to survive the explosion of dark magic, and when he’s not outside my body as a shadow or a man, he’s nestled quite literally around my heart, the tendrils of his darkness entwining with my own. Not many shadowborns can say their demons are tethered to them in such a way. To think that his presence used to torment me.
For years, I naturally blamed him for what happened. I even tried to claw him out from under my skin to the point that I was hospitalised. But over time, I’ve grown to accept that he never truly meant to hurt me or my family, and I managed to forgive him. My mother used to say that forgiving someone even when we don’t want to is a strength unlike any other. I never realised how strong I was until I forgave him. Now that Pitch is a part of me, I can’t imagine my life without him, even if he is fae.
Even if I’m only here, at the beginning of this stupid forest again, because of him.
“Ready to go?” Sage asks, linking my arm with hers.
“As I’ll ever be,” I can’t help but mutter.
We’re the first to grab a torch and step into the forest. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but Sage practically drags me inside, a child-like skip to her walk. As I hold the torch for us and follow in her wake, I catch the opened book in her hand and the blood drains from my face.
“Dammit! I left my book back with my trunk,” I tell her, stopping at the entrance. “I’ll never hear the end of this if Keeper Maddox finds out.”
Sage snorts. “Well, she has been reminding you for the past ten years to always carry it with you.” She lets go of my arm and holds her own book with two hands, stroking her fingers over the scuffed leather. “Don’t worry. We can just use mine.”
I nod. “Now we really can’t get lost or I’m royally screwed.”
Another snort from Sage. “You know the spells in this book better than I do.”
She does have a point: there’s not one ounce of magic in the Book of Zorya I haven’t already memorised. But there’s a big difference between memorising them and actually being able to cast every single one of them. That’s the only reason I’m going to this academy instead of running for the hills. I want to learn how to harness my darkness and cast the most difficult of spells known to magics.
“Does the book tell us where to go?” I ask Sage, continuing to walk again.
“Nope. The only clue we have is to look for the Evening Star.”
“Figures. The Keepers don’t want to help us navigate this cesspit.”
Sage falls into step with me, and asks quietly, “Why do you hate the forest so much?”
I blink at her question, searching through my garbled thoughts for an answer. Sage knows I hate this forest but she’s never once questioned me about it. I don’t want to lie to her but I also don’t want to talk about what I did. If I confess that I accidentally killed all those innocent people and children, including my own parents, she might never look at me the same way again.
I might be a monster, and I deserve to rot for eternity for what I did, but I don’t want to lose the only person I’ve got left. Without Sage, all I would have left are the demons feasting off the darkness growing stronger within me. Not even Pitch would be able to save me then.
“I came here when I was a kid,” I answer honestly, ducking under the branches curving over our heads. “This is where I died and got my powers. It’s just…hard for me to be here, you know? Makes me remember things I’d rather not.”
Sage reaches out and squeezes my free hand reassuringly, her lilac eyes glowing like amethyst jewels. “You don’t have to face this alone.”
Tears prick my eyes and I quickly blink them away. “Thanks. So, all we’ve gotta do is find the Evening Star and follow it to the academy? That sounds too easy.”
“Yeah, there’s got to be a catch,” she agrees, letting go of my hand to flick through her book.
“Isn’t there something about a starlight fountain? I remember reading about it and that it’s supposed to sit right under the Evening Star, reflecting its light for people to use as a guide. Maybe look for that,” I suggest.
Sage pauses and flicks through her book, the shards of moonlight bathing her face in a soft, silvery hue. “Oh, my gosh, yes! The Mirror Fountain…” She points to one of the cream pages, and reads the text aloud: “As the Almighty Goddess of the Moon, Selena, walked through the forest at twilight, admiring her many creations, she came across a shard of glass gleaming on the forest floor. She used this to create the Fountain of Mene which allowed her to see whatever her heart most desired and to guide her down whichever path she sought in darkness.”
Turning to the back of the book, she searches for the fountain on the index, then looks for the page. “The Fountain of Mene, also known by magics as the Mirror Fountain, is one of the first creations of the Zorya Sisters and has remained at the mouth of the forest since the dawn of time. Once you have absorbed the elixir from the fountain, your path will be illuminated for you, but shadowborns must be wary of this fountain for it has led many to their destination as well as their doom.”
She looks up at me, her eyes widening into saucers.
I quirk an eyebrow and huff under my breath. “That was cheery, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Sheesh. But if the fountain is at the mouth of the forest, it should be someplace close by,” she says, looking up at the stars through the dense canopy of leaves rustling above. “I’ve never been good at astronomy. Which one is the Evening Star again?”
“I imagine the Keepers will have hidden it. You know, to test our navigation skills,” I grumble bitterly, shaking my head. “They want to watch us scramble around like rats in a maze. Damn sadists. But not on my watch!”
Branches snap behind us, and we both turn around, our hands raised into tight fists. It’s just a couple of students that have caught up. I’m not sure how much they heard of our conversation, but they’re more focused on following something on the ground than from the book. They go in the complete opposite direction, their wands held out like torches. Once they’ve disappeared entirely, I turn back to Sage.
“Let’s start by going west. It usually sets there after sunset.”
She nods, tucking it under her arm. “To the west we go!”
I
giggle, linking arms with her again, and we step deeper into the forest. It takes tremendous effort not to look over my shoulder at the shadows I know are watching.
These ones don’t just spy from the treetops—they’re everywhere, and they are not my friends. Not anymore.
Letting the shadows of the forest hide me, I watch a girl with midnight blue hair step out of the carriage. Her silver eyes scan the forest, so full of wonder, her expression reminding me of a child who has just been read their favorite fairytale. But this isn’t a fairytale.
This is war.
And that girl who laughs with her pink-haired friend is the key to everything.
My hands itch to reach out, to touch her and feel the fight of the magic in her soul that is so addictive.
So alluring.
Welcome to Shadowborn Academy, Corvina Charles.
May you die soon.
The snatches of moonlight dwindle the deeper we venture into the forest. It’s only dusk, but under this thick canopy of leaves, it’s difficult to make anything out without second-guessing myself. We would be shuttered in complete darkness if not for this enchanted torch.
“Let’s face it, we’re lost,” I grumble at Sage, dragging my feet through the rotting vegetation after her. The damp leaves sliding against my pale skin and the underbrush snagging my electric blue hair feel like spectral claws trying to ensnare me again. Not today, Satan! I kick them away with my leather boot, a cold shiver snaking through my body. “We’re going around in circles, Sage.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, pausing for a moment before glancing around. I follow her gaze, reminded for the first time since we got here how strangely mesmerising this part of the forest is: the way the vines and moss wind around the towering trunks; the light from my torch gleaming against dark puddles of water like liquid peridots; the fireflies glowing and flashing in the dark, giving us that extra bit of light. Even the plants are unique and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Some of them stretch out as we pass by and others open their beautiful, glowing petals to release small critters that must have been snoozing there. Or they were just regurgitated supper. Either way, I’m surprised by how cool this place looks, despite that Sage and I are most definitely lost.