The Mage’s War (Crescent Moon Academy Book 1)

by CY Jones

  Great, today is going to be a busy day for me I see. Not only do I have sewing to do, I also have to hunt down the welcoming committee and deal with them personally. I can’t let this shit go. Destroying my room was a direct challenge. They had to have known Mr. Meow would be able to show me who did it. They’re that confident I won’t retaliate. Big mistake. I’ll take the lackeys out first and leave the ringleader for last.

  On my wall, written in what smells like animal blood, are the words ‘voodoo slut’. How unoriginal. Their insults suck. They should take classes from Leslie. She can teach them a thing or two.

  Well, it’s not like they ruined much since the trunks with my stuff haven’t arrived yet, so boo hoo to them. If they waited a day or two, they really would have had some fun. Actually, probably not. I’m sure by then, I would have warded my room properly. Ignoring the destruction around me, I gather what’s decent to dress in that wasn’t torn apart or ruined and a towel. On my way out, I grab my shower caddy that surprisingly was left alone. I guess they didn’t want me to stink in class, although I wouldn’t trust the shampoo. Don’t want my hair falling out. It’s one of my greatest weapons.

  In a hurry to get what I need done before class starts, I take a quick shower, leaving my hair to air dry. After I change, I debate warding my room, but I don’t have enough time to do it properly. Besides, they’ve already trashed it, so I doubt they’ll return. After school, I’ll take care of warding it properly. Mr. Meow is pacing the kitchen and I pour him a bowl of his favorite food. Before I lock up, I make sure he has fresh water and fill the bowl in my room with dry food, just in case I don’t come back like yesterday. In all actuality, he doesn’t need me to feed him. He’s smart enough to find food on his own, but I worry, so I make sure he’s provided for.

  I make it to the library with no incidents causing any delays on the way, which is good. My ‘Get Revenge’ task list for the day is already pretty long. As soon as I step inside the library, I take a deep whiff and inhale the smell of books. I don’t know why, but I love that smell and could live off it for the rest of my days. I’m a book nerd, hashtag book girl for life. The Beast had it right when he gave Belle a library. Growing up, besides Quinn, books were my best friends. My escape from the real world and the chaos surrounding me.

  I have to say this place is very impressive. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a simple square building sat slightly apart from the main buildings of the academy. Inside, I was expecting it to be filled with a couple rows of books, some reading areas and tables set apart to study at, maybe even a stern librarian sitting behind a U-shaped desk, but just like the building with the headmaster’s office, the dimensions on the outside are completely different than the inside. Inside, it’s not square and boring, but a masterpiece.

  A circular stone tower spiraling all the way up to the clouds, each spiral filled with nothing but books. I’m thrilled to see there's no sign of any cheap rusted metal shelves common libraries seem to always have that take up way too much space for my liking. Instead, the books float on their own in the air by magic. The sitting and reading areas also float in their own lazy cycle seemingly out of the way, leaving enough room to walk around. I’d heard about enchanted libraries before, but I never saw one. This is quite the surprise.

  Taking the stairs, I marvel at the books as they shift and move around me. From the bottom looking up, I thought it would be cramped with so many books, but like magic, it just works and I have tons of space to move around. There’s pockets of hidden spaces you can’t see from the ground and private lounge areas to sit back and relax. The books are top notch as well. First editions of the classics like Wuthering Heights, Little Women, and Oliver Twist. Original playwrights of Shakespeare, a signed Voltaire, and Arthur Miller. On and on and on. This place is like ambrosia, the Holy Grail for a book nerd like myself. I can already tell I’ll be spending a lot of time here. If dominating my fellow dark mages doesn’t work out, I can always become Master of the Library. A fitting title indeed.

  It takes a second to realize the building is reading my mind and it leads me with a tiny dancing light to the section I’m searching for. I’m pretty high up and even though I had to climb a couple of hundred steps, my legs aren’t fatigued or the least bit tired. The magic of this place must be responsible for that as well. I wonder has anyone ever climbed all the way to the top? And if so, what books are up there? Maybe later I’ll find out, but for now, I pull out a tome on the history of mages. I wasn’t expecting the book to be so thick. I don’t have time to read this whole thing before class, but hopefully, I can take it with me.

  Picking a lounge area tucked in the back hidden out the way, I sit down in one of the comfy cushioned chairs and open the book, setting it on my lap. For whatever strange reason the first couple of pages are in Latin, but then it transcends into old english, making it easier to read.

  It starts off with a lot of boring history and stuff I already knew. The founding of the mage race, building of our civilization when we were once ruled by a tyrant king. The crazy harlequin that started a revolution and overthrew the mad king, and divided the mage kingdoms into separate communes, each with its own leader. The organization of the Council, blah, blah blah; some more boring stuff. Not finding what I need, I choose another book, this one on the history of the academy. Flipping lazily through the pages, I finally find what I’m looking for.

  This particular university was built in 1877, run and organized by its seven founding fathers.

  Zakalis Morganstein

  Gylore Hawthorne

  Allistair Erwin

  Lumos Erwin

  Kai Choi

  Lucius Genesis

  Veritas Boudreaux

  So far, I have met a Hawthorne and Choi descendant, but I have yet to make the acquaintance of the rest. I know they are all here, the headmaster said as much when he told me this is the first time in centuries the descendants of all the founding fathers attended school here. Well, not all. As far as I know there’s only one Morganstein alive today and he’s an old man. I wonder, will the others make themselves known? Probably not, unless they come out to check out the competition or out right challenge me and try to kill me. As a Boudreaux, I’m sure I’m high on their kill list.

  Shifting through are pages of black and white photos of years worth of the top ten. Further along in the years, the pictures turn to a progression of color as technology advances until they are so clear, I swear I’m looking at an actual person. When one girl flips her hair, I jump, letting out a girly scream. What the actual foolery is this? Yes, I’m convinced Harry fucking Potter is real. Moving pictures, moving bookcases. My brother and I should have waited on a white spotted owl to deliver our invitation to attend the academy.

  The next page I turn to has the current ranking for light mages and there, on top, is my cheeky brother in the number one spot, moving his Joker mask on and off his face so you can clearly see his two personalities. I don’t care about the rest of the people in the ranking since they have nothing to do with me, but I do notice Goliath holding onto a respectable third. Good for him. At least I know he’s not all brawn.

  What I’m looking for is on the next page and as I thought, Zion is currently holding onto the number one spot for the dark mages. His picture is as stoic as he is and in no way am I thinking about how much I would love to run my fingers through his thick auburn locks or kiss those pouty lips. I swear the pretty ones are always the assholes. It just isn’t fair. I want to whine and throw a tantrum. Visit our maker and ask him for a re-do and make Zion look more like a toad. Then I can focus on what needs to be done and not how much I want to fuck Zion and see what he’s really about. Apparently, my morals are skipping off to a far away place hand in hand with my ambition.

  Ranked second and third are twins. Hot twins. Make you want to drop it like its hot twins. I grew up in a commune full of blue eyed blondes, so I’m used to seeing variations of this feature, but these two make me warm and ting
ly down stairs. My lady bits have been out of commission since the asshole who shall not be named, but now she’s awake and purring. First Zion and now these two are extracting a reaction out of me. What happened to my vow to be celibate?

  The Erwin name must have a vast history of twins as the founders were also twins. Kirito is next and he’s just as perfect in print as in real life. Figures. With the pattern I’m starting to think this is some cheesy celebrity magazine and not a historical book full of mage history and I’m a normal teen drooling over an article on the top ten hottest guys in America. You know, if the rag had enchanted ever-changing pictures. I also realize the ranks are updated immediately. One of the twins, Oliver was ranked third, but now he’s fourth and a dark haired mage named Milo Genesis shifts into his place. Fuck, he’s hot too; you know, if you’re into dangerous bad boys, which my cunt must be.

  “Reading anything interesting?” a smooth voice dripping with danger asks, startling me and taking me off guard. I jump, slamming the book shut like I was just caught reading something naughty. When I look up, my eyes clash with a set of dark orbs that make my heart skip a beat before continuing on in a rapid succession. Black as night. Precious onyx jewel eyes the bearer would rather die before giving up. Poets make sonnets about eyes like those and right now I’m lost to them. Those blazing ebony orbs are unlike anything I’ve seen before. They shine with a fierce determination, like the night sky lit up by falling stars. The star may be falling, but the darkness it cuts through is absolute.

  Holy shit. This is the guy who was just ranked second.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he chuckles and I realize I haven’t answered his question.

  “Nothing that interesting,” I lie.

  “If you say so.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me. Normally, I’d have a smart quip or I would ask him why he’s being so nosy, but I’m struck speechless. My deck has been dealt and as of now, I’m holding a hand full of fools.

  My brother has long hair and although his is nowhere near as long, it swishes to his shoulder blades like a dark waterfall. Black like his eyes, dark as oil. His skin is pale and you’d think with dark hair, it would make him look washed out like some sickly vampire and not so damn appealing. I’m screwed because it doesn’t. It suits him just right with all his eternal beauty. I’m not a poet, but I’d sing ballots for him.

  “You’re not what I was expecting,” he surmises, moving closer.

  “And what were you expecting?” I ask. My body moves forward on its own volition like we’re two magnets drawn together by a magnetic field we cannot see with a pull too strong to fight.

  “Competition.” With that insulting remark, he turns and walks away with his perfect hair swishing behind him.

  What a dick, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on right now.

  Opening the book I slammed shut, I take a quick peek. Milo Genesis is currently ranked number one. Did he just get points for not killing me or for insulting me? And did the universe just agree with his assessment?

  This time around, I make it to class on time. I’m not sure if we have assigned seating, so as the class is starting to fill, I sit in the same seat as yesterday. Zion isn’t here yet, but that’s fine. It gives me more time to prepare for his appearance. I can read that whole book from the library front to back, but it won’t tell me what kind of mage Zion is. I know he uses elemental magic with his ability to control fire, but I can tell he can do more and was holding back when he fought my brother, so who knows what else he’s capable of. I know for sure he’s strong. As of this morning, he’s back to be rated number one. Fire is one of the hardest elements to control. It’s too temperamental and wild. To be able to mold it to his will like that shows he’s very advanced in his craft.

  I’m mindlessly running my finger across my text book when the chair beside me slides across the floor. His scent hits me immediately. Cinnamon and campfire. So him and so very enticing. He doesn’t say anything to me and I don’t say a word to him. In fact, I fight a battle with myself to not look at him. Alice taught me not to fall down rabbit holes, so I’m keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground.

  No fun crafts today. I was actually looking forward to seeing if I can light the fae lights in the jar. The headmaster made it sound so interesting. Today, Hoffman stands up front, lecturing in a monotonous tone, and I have to fight falling asleep. When my eyelids droop for the second time in a row, I reach into my bag and pull out one of my handy dandy dolls. This one is sturdy, made from a burlap sack I sewed and stuffed myself. I make most of my dolls, only buying materials from a reputable dealer. There’s no telling what some shady mages fills them with. I heard horror stories of voodoo mages getting their magic sucked right out of them from dolls they used. I shudder at the thought of that happening to me.

  Beside me, I can feel the heat of Zion’s gaze, but I pay him no mind. Giving me the silent treatment while staring lasers at my back won’t get me to crack. Using one of my smaller needles from my kit, I thread the hair I stole from the mouthy bitch this morning. I have a list to take care of and a promise to keep. I don’t actually need to be near her to sew her mouth shut if I have something personal of hers, like this hair. Humming to myself, I move the needle in and out, dotting neat, tiny X’s across its mouth. I’m tedious with my work, paying close attention to every detail, and when I’m done, I pull the hair taut and cut it loose. Yesterday’s lesson was to transfer our magical energy. I wonder if I did the same with this doll, could I make it dance?

  Setting the doll down on my desk, I stare at it intently as I gather from the pool of magic inside me. All mages have pools of magic. Some shallow, some deep. It all depends on how powerful they are and what was given to them at birth. Magic is just an extra part of our DNA that humans do not have, but everything has a balance. Rules that even the powers that be have to follow.

  In the back of my mind, I’m unconsciously humming my everyday spell and soon, my body starts to warm and I feel a rush of power fly out of me and into the doll. By itself, it stands on its tiny legs and bows to me. Amused, I hum a song for it to dance to and it does, twirling across my desk. I had no intention of killing the girl, but sewing her mouth shut doesn’t seem like enough. Saying I’m fucking my brother is a serious accusation. What if it got back to our parents? Leslie would be furious. Sewing her mouth shut just sends off a message that I want her silenced, not that her accusation isn’t true. Strapped to my thigh is Dagga, twin to my brother’s blade Digga, and I pull it out and stab it into the doll’s little hand. The noise catches the teacher’s attention, but besides a glare in my direction, he keeps lecturing. With a flourish twirl around my finger tips, I return Dagga and carelessly toss the doll back in my bag. I’m done with my fun… for now.

  Looking up, I meet Zion’s gaze and give him a cheeky wink and smile filled with dark promise.

  Quinn

  “What do you mean her whole room was trashed? Who did it?” I growl. I’m this close to losing my shit with what little control I have over Joker. He doesn’t like hearing Angelica is in danger as much as I do. Sensing my struggle, Marcel takes a respectable step back.

  “A couple of female dark mages. Contenders for the top ten,” answers the guy who looks like he’d rather be anywhere than right here as the messenger. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I try to calm myself down. Flying off the handle won’t help anything.

  “So they’re not even one of the ten and they took it upon themselves to fuck with my sister? Wrong move. Wrong fucking move.” I’m already thinking about the many ways I’m going to extract my revenge. Pluck out their eyes, fingers, and toes, and then slowly peel them apart until they are soaked in their own blood, and once bored, I’ll feed the pieces to the crows. Once I’m through with them, they’ll wish they never heard my sister’s name.

  “Maybe we should see how this plays out first,” Marcel suggests and I give him a look that would send Satan running for cover.

  “Excuse me? I think I heard you
wrong or at the very least not understanding you clearly. Are you suggesting I sit back and do nothing?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.” Marcel is a big dude and some may think he’s dumb as rocks, but I know better. I saw his potential when he first stepped out from the onlookers. For that reason alone I don’t strike him down and hear him out.

  “Explain,” I snarl.

  “They went after her for a reason. I’m sure they’re aware the rules prevent you from interfering. They think she’s weak. Being able to break into her room just proves that she is.” I growl, but he ignores it and continues on. “I’m not implying she is. I’ve seen up front that she can handle herself. The logical explanation is that she must not have had the time to properly ward her room while she was here with you. I know this, you know this, but the mages over there don’t. The last thing she needs right now is for you to break the rules and go over there and solve her problems for her. It will only hurt her, not help her.”