“Are you ok Jelly Baby? We heard you screaming in your sleep, but for a while we couldn’t wake you up. Max had to do a spell to wake you.” She says tentatively, as though she is scared she may hurt me further.
Mum is looking at Max now with an awed expression and his response is one of a shy, bashful, schoolboy. He looks like he doesn’t know how to take her compliments, so instead he breezes past it and turns to me with a worried expression.
“It was like your mind wanted to stay asleep Ella. You were fighting not to wake up and I couldn’t work out why. So I had to use powerful magic.” He explains and I feel my cheeks begin to flush.
It doesn’t take a genius to work out what was holding me in my dream, not that I could ever tell my parents about the dream guy that I have conjured in my mind. They would think that I am crazy and at this point, they might be right because despite the pain that I am in, my mind can’t help but wonder what his lips would have felt like when they finally collided with mine. If I’m being honest, there is a part of me wishing that if the pain from my dream can be real, then why can’t he?!
Before I can even begin to imagine that, the pain strikes again, and this time it is even worse than it was when I was in my dream. It feels like someone is sticking a red hot poker into my abdomen and then rummaging around in there just for a bit of added extra fun. The piercing scream that I can’t stop from escaping reverberates around the room, and I can’t think straight. My hand flies down to the area just below my pyjama shorts and I pull them down slightly, hoping that removing the feeling of them against my skin might relieve some of the pain. As the pain starts to subside, I pick up on the heated conversation that Mum and Max are having.
“Lil, I thought you said that she was born at 4:14 a.m.” Max questions.
“She was!” exclaims Mum, with absolute conviction in her voice. She was there after all!
“She can’t have been! Warlocks get their power at the exact time that they turn eighteen. I can see the faint outline of her dark mark developing on her hip bone. That is a sign that her magic is coming through, but I have never seen it happen in this way before. We get some pain as the mark brands us, but it is short-lived, almost instant. I knew that things might be different with Ella’s blood status being weakened, but I had no idea it would be like this!” he cries with a pained expression, and its clear Max wants to take away all of my pain. His voice cracks at the end and I can’t help but feel closer to him.
However, this is not reassuring for Mum and the unknown is causing her to panic and become anxious. In fact, I can hear her breathing start to quicken and she begins to hyperventilate.
“Isn’t there anyone you can speak to Max? It is only 2 a.m and I am not watching my baby be in this much pain for the next two hours.” She screeches in between her quickening breaths.
Mum has never dealt well with me being ill, and I can hear the pain in her voice as she struggles to know how to help me. Max turns and walks towards me, sitting on my bed opposite from Mum, and he leans closer to stroke my sweaty hair back, like he has seen Mum do. It is such a sweet, dad-like gesture and I like it so much, my heart feels like it is actually swelling.
“Ella, there might be someone I can speak to about what is happening, but tell me about the pain first.” Max asks me gently with a small reassuring smile that almost makes me want to open up and tell him everything. Then I remember that I sound crazy, or maybe he will think I’m just your typical horny teenager, but either way I don’t want him thinking I’m crazy or horny, so I stay quiet about the important stuff.
I describe to Max how the pain feels and the change between a dull ache to a worsening stabbing pain that comes from out of nowhere. His dark green eyes look me over with concern, almost like they are trying to look into my soul, and I am sure he knows I’m not telling him everything.
“Is there anything that you can think of that makes the wave of pain come on, or makes it worse?” he asks, whilst continuing to stroke my hair to help me relax.
I can’t think of anything, so I shake my head, too tired to talk. He takes hold of my hand and squeezes, just like a real Dad would. He seems to know exactly what to do to care for me now, like he’s been doing it his whole life. Then a wave of sadness shoots through me as I remember all the illnesses I have had over the years where I haven’t had a Dad to comfort me and to hold my hand, but before I can dwell on the sadness, another wave of pain hits and I scream again, feeling like I am on fire. I can feel Mum’s grip on one side and Max’s on the other, but I feel like I am floating away and everything becomes faint. Then I hear Mum yelling as everything starts to fades to black.
“Please Max, you have to find out what is wrong with our baby,” Mum screams, with a fear laced through her voice that I’ve never heard before. I don’t get a chance to see or hear anything else as the blackness takes over and I pass out.
Hushed voices wake me up a short time later and opening my eyes feels like such a challenge because I feel so exhausted. My parents are standing at the end of my bed and although they are trying to be quiet, they are failing miserably. So I decide rather than trying to eavesdrop its better to just ask.
“So what’s the word? What’s happening to me?” I ask quietly. My voice sounds so small and gravely, and I can’t help but see the worried look on both my parents’ faces.
“I talked to a High Warlock friend of mine from Italy, Gio, to see what he knows. Fledglings are a particular area of interest for him and his research,” Max explains, as he runs his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, and I recognise this as his nervous tell.
“Wow, so you are not the only High Warlock?” I ask, surprised by this information.
Max’s eyes light up at my comment and he laughs shaking his head. Initially, he is looking at me like I should know that, then a wave of sadness crosses his face as he remembers I have no reason to know that and in fact, I know nothing of his world really. I have so much to learn at Draiochta that I cannot help being worried.
“No Ella, there are High Warlocks in every country and they rule their own Coven. Each High Warlock decides when to pass on the baton and hand over to their heir, as we live longer than humans. But Gio doesn’t have an heir and so he has never handed over the role to anyone. He has been the High Warlock of the Italian Coven for about one-hundred-thirty years, and he has the knowledge to match,” explains Max, with a tone to his voice that makes it clear not only does he like Gio, but he has a lot of respect for him too.
“Wow, so he is very old then!” I state, sounding very much the teenager that I am. I can’t help but focus on that specific bit of what Max said. I don’t even want to think about how Warlocks age differently, my mind is far too blown right now as it is. Both of my parents are giggling at my typical teenage comment, as Max agrees with me.
“But what did he say about what is happening to me?” I finally ask, grabbing onto an inner strength I didn’t know I had, but I am ready for answers. No matter how much I skirt around the issue with jokes, I need to know what is happening to my body. Max sits down on my bed again and takes hold of my hand, as he had earlier, it’s a comforting gesture and I take strength from it.
“Gio is fantastic, but he doesn’t know everything. He said that it sounds like your dark mark that symbolises that you are getting your magic, is coming through a bit early. Every Warlock develops the mark and it brands somewhere on their skin.”
With that Max lets go of my hand and rolls up his t-shirt sleeve to reveal a black pentagram tattoo on his right shoulder. It has beautiful thick lines that somehow look to have intricate little patterns inside of them. It appears to be glowing and I ask if it always looks like that, wondering how I never noticed it before. I am awed by its beauty, and can almost feel power radiating from it.
“No. It has only ever glowed once before and that was the day that you were born. Because you are my daughter our magic is linked. This is when I knew that you would be Cambion, I felt it, but because of the rules set out
in my punishment I was forbidden from contacting either of you until you were close to turning eighteen, Ella. When your mum gave birth to you we were bonded and now you are drawing magic from my dark mark to create your own. This is the normal procedure, but typically this is a short process that happens at the same time as you entered the world. I told Gio that you were asleep when this started and he said only something very powerful and supernatural could draw your magic out early, even then it’s not something that happens commonly with Cambions. Was there anything unusual happening while you were asleep that might give us a clue?” Max asks wishfully, desperate to solve the puzzle and get the answers he needs.
I know that Max will think I’m an absolute nutcase if I tell him that there’s a chance my dark mark came early because I was having a dirty dream. So instead, I play it safe and deny being able to remember anything.
While I am relaxing and trying not to worry about what might be causing the problem, the pain seems to ease and Mum and Max start to settle down and stop fussing.
“I’m going to go make some coffee,” exclaims Mum.
We’ve hardly had any sleep all night, so it’s not surprising that my Mum’s answer is coffee, but as she is walking out of the door she turns around with a big smile on her face, almost as though whatever made her smile caught her unaware.
“I almost forgot. Happy Birthday, Jelly Baby. I can’t believe you are actually eighteen years old. Man, does that make me feel old!” she chuckles, but the look of pride on her face warms my heart.
She comes running over and smothers me with a hug, and then I feel the hug get even tighter when I realise that Max has joined in as well. I can’t help the giant wave of emotion that is filling my chest at that moment, as I realise that this is the first birthday that I have spent with both of my parents and it is my most memorable for so many more reasons.
It’s weird to think that in the past week, my life has changed so much. I am surrounded by love from both of my parents, which I never thought was possible, but more than that I feel different. I can feel the power and magic pulsing through my veins, it is like electricity is swimming in my blood. I have no idea how to use the magic, but I feel as though it is screaming at me to get free. It is desperate to be utilised and the power coursing through my blood makes me feel strong. It makes me feel like a force to be reckoned with, but more than anything, it makes me feel like I can take on the world, which is good because in a couple of days I start at the Draiochta Academy and I am going to need all the strength I can get.
I don’t want to let Max down at the Academy, and I want to embrace the legacy that has been passed down to me. I am going to prove to everyone that even though my blood may be weaker, and I am not a pure Cambion, I am still a Greyford in spirit, if not in name. I have powerful ancestors and no matter what is thrown at me, I do not intend on letting anyone down.
To Be Continued…
Full book coming Spring 2020.
Note
Thank you for reading my debut novel and showing me support. If you would like to leave this story, or the anthology as a whole, a review it would be very much appreciated. But please be aware that I am a UK author who uses British spellings and phrases within my book. So what may look like spelling errors to you may not be in the UK. Please can you take this into account when leaving reviews. Thank you!
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About Emma Luna
Emma Luna is a midwife and college lecturer who lives in Cambridgeshire, UK with her Boyfriend and crazy family including Hector the Shih Tzu. In her spare time she likes to write down all the stories that the characters in her head are screaming to have told. When she’s not writing she enjoys doing adult colouring to relax, binge watching crime or murder TV series and collecting far too many novelty notebooks. Oh and she is a massive Harry Potter geek – Ravenclaw for Life!!!
Revenant Awakens
Arcane Defense Academy
By
A.C. Wilds
&
Isobelle Carmicheal
Chapter One
The courtyard is buzzing with excitement. Conversations overlap one another, as the final semester winds to a close. Summer winds blow the scent of freshly cut grass across the quad, the air perfumed with the heavy scent of magnolias that pepper the New Orleans coast. Coeds bask in the rich sun hanging high in the sky. It’s finally here. The moment that we’ve all been waiting for, and a hush falls over the crowd by the time the faculty head to the dais.
Rows of students, dressed in matching robes with different color stripes and cords thrown over their shoulders file into the chairs placed in rows on the lawn. I take a deep breath, my hands tightly balled into fists as I wait for my name to be called. A shiver of fear courses through me. No backing down now, my name has been announced and it’s time to give the speech I’ve been preparing years for. I stand up and walk with assured steps to take my place at the podium.
“Please give a round of applause for Kia Stephens,” Dean Simpson says, into the microphone. His voice is harsh and loud causing me to falter in my steps. He crushes the bubble of confidence I had shrouded around me.
Everyone quiets at my approach. All eyes are on me, I can feel them watching, focused on my every step. My heart rate increases as I imagine my heel getting caught and twisting my ankle, then falling to the ground making a fool out of myself; but I shake it off. Focus Kia! This is what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. You will do this!
My legs feel like I have weighted bricks tied to my ankles. My head is held high and my shoulders straight. I’ve thought about my look more times than I can count, planning everything in perfect detail. My natural hair is in a twist with the corkscrew curls hanging around my face behaving for once. I was taking no chances fighting with the curl gods today, ensuring that my hair would look perfect. Makeup expertly applied to match the bold purple gown that peeks out from beneath the bright white of my graduation robe.
The contrast looks beautiful against my deep brown skin. The casual observer would never see the slight hesitance in my gait as I strut towards the stage in my 4” snakeskin stilettos. I survey the crowd, my chocolate brown eyes sparkling with determination and resolve. After everything I’ve endured these last four years, I deserve everything I’m being honored for today. Far too often women downplay their accomplishments, feel they’re not deserving of what they achieve, but not me. I’ve earned this.
I walk up the steps and swallow down the rest of my nerves. I’m Kia Stephens, valedictorian of my class at Arete University. Every waking minute of my teenage and adult years has brought me to this moment.
Reaching for the microphone I adjust it to my height. I clear my throat and begin to speak.
Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, Graduates, and all faculty at Arete. I am honored to be here and to be chosen as valedictorian. I’m not going to talk about me today, but rather talk about the future that we hold in our hands. There is a quote by Bob Proctor that has resonated with me for a while now, and I’d like to share what feels poignant. “Where you are going is all that matters, not where you are now.”
I think we get in our own way with plans for the future. How can we make our life perfect? But life is imperfect. It doesn’t matter how much you plan, fate has its own ideas.
Mistakes will be made, some small others large, but what matters is how we react to them.
And therein lies the beauty of it all. It’s not about if you fail, because you will fail, but if you choose to get back up again.
There are no limits in the potential we hold inside of ourselves. We are magical beings, who know that life is so much more than what it seems. So take a chance and find out how great those imperfections can be. Make mistakes, and move past them, but don’t forget the lessons they teach you.
Arete means excellence of any kind. Any. That means that as long as whatever you do is done with excellence, you are making your alma mater proud.
Ad astra per aspera. Through adversity to the stars. So shoot for the stars my fellow students, no matter how hard it may seem.
Congratulations Graduating Class and thank you, family and friends, for coming to share in our special day.
Applause erupts and I can’t stop beaming. It’s done, and all my nerves leave in a whoosh. A smile spread wide, I practically prance down the steps to join my class. Today, I received my degree in Advanced Witchcraft with an emphasis in offensive magic. I minored in complex charms and potions to give me all the skills I would need to work at the ADA or the Arcane Defense Academy.
Phase one of my plan is complete. Now it’s time for phase two, a masters in Witching Arts at ADA. It wasn’t easy to get in, but I’ve crossed my broomsticks that I’ll succeed as much as I did in Arete. With perfect five moons at Arete, it should go a long way in securing my placement in the job of my dreams.
Draiochta Academy: All Genres Academy Anthology Page 31