HUSH, Ivy: The Arcane Academy

by Kirah Nyx

  “Tell me, my kin,” said the Vampire, “what does the chest bring from heaven?”

  The strange woman plucked a cloudy white stone from the chest. The Fae took it and held it up in the sunlight. It spun and whirled.

  “The Angelical Stone,” said the woman. “With powers that can only be tasted, and the powers to speak to our Gods. But no corrupt may use this stone, for the heavens are pure.”

  The woman plucked a dagger from the chest. The Videer took it and held it up in the sunlight. It sparkled and glowed.

  “The Dagger of Destiny,” said the woman. “Eternal rule for those who wield it. But those who hide it, will be blessed not by power.”

  The woman plucked a ring from the chest. The Vampire took it and held it up in the sunlight. It hummed and whistled.

  “The Ring of Rule,” said the woman. “The power to be nowhere and everywhere, as are the Gods.”

  “The heavens have granted us one last gift.” The woman plucked it from the chest. No one took it. It was not there to take, for the woman held nothing in her hand.

  “The Filius,” said the woman. “The beast who serves the holder of these Divine Artefacts, the beast who takes the powers from the children of the moon, the children of the sun, and the children of wisdom. The beast, Filius, is now free.”

  The Vampire dropped the Ring of Rule. The Fae dropped the Angelical Stone. The Videer did not drop the Dagger of Destiny.

  “Be quick, my kin,” warned the woman. “The beholder of the Divine Artefacts will be the God of this realm.”

  The Videer wielded the Dagger of Destiny and slayed the Arcane around her. She slaughtered the Fae, her once lover; she slaughtered the Vampire, her once enemy. The woman hid and watched as the blood of the Arcane soaked into the soil with the blood of the angel. The Videer gathered the Divine Artefacts and ran through the gates. But the gates remained open; many more of the Arcane would leave the Garden of Eden through them, and be led into temptation.

  The woman cackled. “You know not of what you have done, Videer.”

  In the nirvana of earth, an ungodly event befell the Arcane. Vampires joined the earth gifted to steal from the Fae. Videer stole the Divine Artefacts, and slayed her brothers and sisters. And so it was; a new world had been created, poisoned by the devil.’

  Ivy closed the book, a whisper of a smile on her lips. It had been her favourite tale in her childhood. It was the creation of humans, and the beginning of the Arcane, yet the end, too. Of course, the tale was just that; a fictitious story.

  Ivy gently put the book down and lifted the crumpled letter from her father.

  ‘To my dearest daughter,

  It is my deepest regret that I cannot gift you these presents in person on this marvellous day. Thus, I have made arrangements with the Academy Board to allow you and your brother access to the emergency glittergate by the Fae Springs next weekend.

  The pair of you will be accompanied by Prince Samael, and will transport to the Kilda Village two islands away. There, we and the Valacs will celebrate your birthday at Tilsa’s Tasty Treats—An establishment I am not fond of, myself, but one I understand to be favoured by yourself.

  Until then,

  Father.

  P.S. Your mother hopes that you will clip Foxy’s fire-cords, as she set your mother’s precious pearls alight earlier this week. Luckily, they were protected by enchantments, but she is most distressed. Your mother asks that you acquire no more pets. Additionally, we both wish you all the best in your upcoming tests, and hope that you perform to the peak of your abilities.’

  Ivy sighed and turned her head to the side. On her bed, almost buried in the rubbish and presents, was something her mother would certainly disapprove of. Silus, the grey wolf pup. To make matters worse, he lifted his leg and peed on his preferred pillow. Also Ivy’s favourite.

  14

  The dreaded day of the spirit magic test had finally arrived. Ivy, in simple terms, was a big, tangled ball of gut-churning nerves. Her fingers trembled with the traces of the anxiety coursing through her veins, her heart was on the verge of pounding out of her ribcage, and her bottom lip was nearly bruised and swollen from her incessant chewing. If she used the lavatory for anything other than urinating, she didn’t doubt that she would be in there all day from the sheer level of stress plaguing her frazzled nerves. Unfortunately, she wasn’t hiding in some cubicle in the Academy; she was reluctantly climbing the carpeted steps with Penny and Addie, as well as every Vampire from year seven to ten.

  “I didn’t sleep a wink,” complained Addie. “I just kept having these awful thoughts about what could go wrong … Do you think I morph into a duck I’ll stay that way forever? Can that happen?”

  “No,” said Ivy, with her clammy hands balled into fists to stop the trembling. She added, unsurely, “I don’t think so, at least.”

  “It wouldn’t be too horrible, I suppose,” pondered Addie aloud. A sweaty sheen covered her extraordinary pale face. “I like ducks; they quack all day, swim and eat bread.”

  The parade of mostly anxious students reached the classroom door, and came to a halt; some stumbled into others at the brisk stop. They were faced with a wrought iron gate. There were no handles, keys, or locks. No way in, only a piece of crisp paper nailed to the wall. At the front of the mob were the older students, including Samael. It was he who tore the parchment from the rusty nail and read aloud, “Come forth Asher Bellmen and perform your powers.”

  That was it—the first test. The Bellmens were a family whose lineage possessed a strand of elemental magic; iron influence. That spirit magic allowed the possessor to manipulate certain types of metal.

  Asher barged to the front of the cramped crowd. Some students tried jumping on the spot, peering over shoulders and looking over heads to watch, but the group was so dense that it was difficult to see.

  Ivy tightened her grip on Addie’s hand and guided her along as she slinked through the small gaps in the horde. Penny clutched onto Addie’s jumper and followed. A few annoyed students tried to block their path, but Ivy used her exceptionally sharp nails to strike their extended arms. It had the desired effect.

  When they reached the front of the group, Asher had both his hands wrapped around the iron bars so tightly his hands bled. The gate began to vibrate. A humming-clanging melody ricocheted down the corridor. Ivy watched in awe as the metal suddenly stilled, but cracked right down the middle. The metal bars sprung apart, curled, and separated to create an opening in the centre. Once the bars had parted to allow passage, the teacher was revealed to the students in the corridor.

  “Very good, Mr Bellmen,” Instructor Clarence said. “You have completed your test, and may take your place on the benches, or leave.”

  Asher grinned smugly and left.

  The traffic of students poured through the hole in the gate and followed the teacher. The classroom hadn’t changed much, except for the benches that replaced the usual tables and chairs.

  All students took their places on the stone benches against the walls, and fell silent as the Instructor raised his hand. He stepped onto a marble platform, where his desk and chalkboard had previously been.

  “Each of you will be given a maximum of fifteen minutes to complete your tasks. The results will be posted on the message board in the den next week. Talking will not be tolerated while a student is being tested, and interference from any one of you will be punishable the loss of three points. Once you have finished your examination, you may leave or stay. Good luck to you all.”

  The Instructor stepped off the podium and stood with his back against the wall. The door to his left swung open, and Fae Houseparent Mabel entered. She took her place beside the Instructor and sternly raked her severe stare over the students.

  “Zeke Parker,” called Instructor Clarence. “Please take your place on the platform.”

  The nervous eighth-year stood and wiped his clammy hands on his trousers. While he was in the same year as Ivy, he was a lanky and tall boy, wh
o looked much older than eighteen. As he reached the platform, chains appeared out of nowhere and circled the stage. The rusted links of the chain groaned and creaked as they formed a barricade, mid-air. Ivy assumed the chains to be part of a shielding spell to prevent the magic from seeping out of the bounds of the platform. She was wrong.

  Zeke unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up his arms. He took a deep breath and gathered his courage. Closing his eyes, he lolled his head back and muttered quietly to himself.

  Zeke touched the links of the chain and wrapped his fingers around the eroded metal. The rust stained his hands, Ivy noticed. The chains began to rattle. Ivy recoiled mechanically—zaps and slithers of electrical charge slinked over the student and the chains. Pale blue and pure white bolts of electricity erupted from the platform and soared dangerously close to the metal chandelier above.

  The teacher appeared unfazed, and only inspected the dancing lines of electricity with mild interest and took notes. The chains glowed from the attack of natural energy, hissing louder than a startled Vampire, and rattling violently around the platform. Zeke was completely consumed by the electricity as it coiled around his body. Lightning bolts tore from the skin of his body and zapped around the room, but never touched a single student.

  With a raspy gasp, the electricity vanished, and Zeke collapsed to his knees. A drop of blood trickled out of his nostril and onto his parted lips as he wheezed on the platform.

  “Thank you, Mr Parker,” said the Instructor. “You may leave.”

  The chains dropped to the ground in a clanging heap. Zeke sluggishly pushed himself to his feet. He dragged himself over to the benches and sat down with an audible groan of pain and discomfort.

  “Adriana Adberry,” called Clarence.

  Addie muttered words of dread under her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, Ivy noticed Penny give Addie’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “You’ll be fine,” said Ivy.

  Unconvinced, Addie rose from her seat and anxiously approached the platform. The chains had vanished. Instead there was a grey wisp in the air, like the tail of a hefty dark cloud in the dreary sky. She reached the platform, stood in the centre, and faced the peculiar wisp.

  Houseparent Mabel clicked her fingers and the wisp immediately gathered into a grey ball. All eyes were on the strange apparition. It hissed and gurgled before it abruptly transformed into a ghostly replica of a blowfly. The grey fly was nearly transparent and invisible, but the Vampires had no trouble distinguishing it. To them, it was clear as day. Addie stared at the strange fly intently, narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw.

  Addie disappeared. A pile of her clothes fell to the platform in a crumpled heap. A deep buzz hummed out, and everyone’s gazes darted around to locate the source. It wasn’t the apparition fly that made the noise. Instead, there was a very real blowfly hovering above the platform, right where Addie’s head had been moments ago.

  Ivy beamed brightly at the blowfly. Addie’s transformation was incredible. A murmur of impressed approval rumbled through the room. The Instructor and Fae Houseparent whispered between themselves.

  The apparition pulsated in the air, whirled and contorted into something unrecognisable. Ivy watched in absolute awe as it took the form of a massive bat. But, it remained its peculiar grey shade. Addie — in blowfly form — followed suit, and morphed into a replica of the bat, but blacker than the night sky. It was so realistic. She looked exactly like a bat, and, even though she’d seen Addie morph before, Ivy couldn’t help but be impressed. It was magical and spectacular.

  The fake bat vanished. Addie’s test was over. It was obvious that she had passed with flying bats and flies. Addie remained in bat-form as she slowly descended into the heap of clothes on the floor. There, she hissed, crackled and popped before she morphed into a small snake. Everyone watched as the snake slithered into the crumbled dress on, and vanished into the fabric. The material shifted and rustled for a few seconds before it suddenly shot up in the air, and a body began to fill it out. Toned arms pushed through the sleeves of the black dress, slender legs extended and grew at the hem, and Addie’s head popped up through the neckline, revealing her smug features.

  “Bravo, Miss Adberry,” said Clarence. “You are dismissed.”

  Addie breathed a blissful sigh of relief as she sprung off the platform to the benches.

  For little more than half an hour, eighth-year students were examined on the platform, one after the other. Penny struggled to predict what the Instructor would eat for dinner, but offered an alternative: Much to the Instructor’s delight, she managed to inform him of his wife’s pregnancy resulting in the birth of a baby girl. Ivy didn’t know if it was true or not, but the Instructor seemed to think it was. Perhaps the Shaman had already told him the sex of the baby, she wondered.

  Harriot Brown had successfully converted water into silver shingles and soil into golden nuggets, but the alchemic results were precarious. The golden nuggets and silver slithers crumbled to nothing but ash after a few moments. Further adding to Harriot’s dismay, she was unable to change flowers into rubies at all. It was unknown whether she had passed her examination or not.

  Eighth-year student, Dayton Dante, struggled to levitate himself a few inches above the platform. Instructor Clarence, however, had asked him to fly up to the chandelier and circle it. Still; Ivy was impressed that he could levitate at all—flying was a power she would’ve given anything to possess.

  Ivy was called up to the platform after the dismayed Dayton Dante. She averted her gaze from the watchful students on the benches.

  She couldn’t bring herself to meet Samael’s intense stare. Yet, she could practically feel his eyes burning into her. In fact, everyone appeared to be watching her with unyielding, palpable interest. It was as though they all knew she would fail.

  A swamp-cockroach appeared right at the toes of her grey canvas shoes.

  “Three commands,” said Instructor Clarence. “Roll over, jump and dance.”

  Dance? He can’t be serious …

  Even if she had mastered her powers, she doubted she would be able to force a cockroach to dance. It was preposterous. Her practice and training sessions hadn’t proved themselves helpful at all, so she had no idea how to communicate with the cockroach.

  Closing her eyes, she flooded her mind with images of the cockroach, and pictured it rolling repeatedly to her commands. Ivy didn’t know how long she stayed like that, in her tranquil state of meditative concentration, but it felt like forever. Her ears impatiently awaited impressed gasps to sound out, but none came. No sound reached her, therefore she knew that the cockroach wasn’t responding.

  Roll over. Nothing. Roll over. No noise, no gasps, no applause. Jump. Only silence. Jump. The silence thickened … it became unbearable. Jump, you stupid insect! The pressure weighed down on her like a heavy woollen blanket, suffocating and constricting her. Do something! Anything!

  Ivy must have been standing on the platform for a while, for the timer suddenly jangled out; her test time was over.

  “Jump!” Ivy screeched, stomping her foot for good measure.

  An outbreak of laughter rippled over the students. The pot plant by the wall had suddenly exploded into a cloud of dirt and petals. Ivy winced and tried to shield herself, but it was too late—head to toe, she was covered in soil. The cockroach remained untouched and, worst of all, totally unfazed. Its little antennas jerked as it leisurely cleaned itself on the platform.

  Grimacing, Ivy glanced up at the Instructor. His lips were pursed in disapproval as he scribbled notes down. “Thank you, Miss Skylar.”

  Dazedly, Ivy looked at him. She had failed. It was expected, but it still consumed her with defeat and failure. So many practices, training sessions, bloodlust, starvation, a frenzied attack. All of it for nothing. Sluggishly, Ivy stepped off the platform and joined Addie on the benches.

  As the eighth and ninth years took their tests, Ivy merely slumped on the bench. She didn’t a
pplaud when an extraordinary magical display happened; she didn’t laugh when Johanna Jolly tripped over the platform and landed in a pile of goo. Ivy stayed quiet, and wallowed in her self-pity. Not even when Felix moved to the bench behind her and picked bits of soil out of her hair did she speak.

  Finally, came the tenth years. Not one of the thirteen seniors were toiled or foiled. They performed their tests with ease, and passed effortlessly. Noah Starlight, Samael’s lapdog, teleported from the platform to the back of the classroom without losing so much as a strand of hair, let alone a limb. That was a danger of the rare spirit magic; sometimes, only pieces of the Vampire made the journey.

  Felix was given a dragon for his test. It was chained to the platform, but it didn’t need to be. It was relatively docile for a dragon. Contrary to the myths, dragons were no bigger than Sphinxes, and only breathed fire when attempting to seduce a protentional mate. Peacocking, it was called. The dragon on the platform puffed grey billows of smoke from its nostrils, and its red eyes watched Felix’s every move. He stood in front of the beast with his eyes closed. A dangerous move, Ivy thought.

  “Stand,” commanded Felix.

  The chains jangled as the dragon raised itself onto its hind legs.

  “Howl.”

  A strangled sound chocked in the dragon’s fiery throat. Ivy didn’t think that it had ever howled before. At least, it didn’t sound like it.

  “Free yourself,” said Felix, his eyes slowly opening. A wry twist tugged at his lips as the students gasped. The dragon, not in mating season, blew a single, soft trail of fire from its mouth to the chains. The metal melted onto the platform, until the chains were completely liquefied, and the dragon was free.

  Felix had clearly passed his test. Though happy for him, Ivy couldn’t deny the blow of jealousy that struck her gut. No matter how hard she tried, Felix always beat her in everything.

  Samael’s exam didn’t make her feel much better. His instrument was the corpse of a Siren. It hadn’t reanimated and it wasn’t a ghoul. Ivy scooted closer to the platform, perched on the edge of the bench, and watched intently. Samael stretched his pale hand and pushed the pad of his index finger against the corpse’s forehead. Then, he curved his finger, scraping his sharp black nail over the Siren’s smelly skin. Blood trickled out of the thin cut as the Siren’s eyes suddenly snapped open. It didn’t move. Every student stared wide-eyed at the corpse. No one dared to breathe.