by Kenna Bardot
Feeling lost, I walked forward but stood just outside of the huddle the boys and girls formed. I felt the excitement emanating from them under a thin coating of nerves and a bead of sweat ran down my spine since it appeared I was waiting for the same thing they waited for.
Another door, towards the front of the room, slammed open and four people walked forward, all in step with one another.
So dramatic.
They all wore black with pops of color - blue, red, purple and gold. At their entrance, the boys and girls near me ceased talking completely and at the sudden silence, I swallowed dryly to choke back the nervous laughter that wanted to spew out.
They stopped in front of us, and I noticed that another man, this one in gold with black trim, had been walking behind them, a shiny black cane in his hand. When he moved to the front, his head swiveled and his eyes met mine - filled with such undiluted animosity that startled me. I did not know why this stranger hated me but his look alone was enough to convey that he, in fact, did. A small part of my mind shouted at me to run away, but as I studied the room and the people in it, I doubted that was a smart or even possible thing to do.
He opened his mouth to speak and what he said made me tense. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Order, we are gathered to witness this fall’s Selection Ritual. Today, these boys and girls will learn which sect they will be part of.” He looked straight at us. “Good luck. Should this not be your time, you will have the next.”
He stepped backward and tapped his cane twice on the floor. Apparently this was the signal, as a lanky man stepped forward followed by a pair of younger men hefting a large, delicate urn. The lanky man took a roll of parchment and unfurled it as the jar was positioned directly beside him. “As always, this will be done by age - oldest to youngest. When your name is called, please step forward and hold your hand over the Zeevar Jar.”
I had no idea what that meant, no idea what would happen from there although, apparently, I was the only one lost. Everyone else around me knew what was going to happen since instead of questions, I saw determination in the way they stood; in the look in their eyes. In the audience, I saw only interest and pride.
“Kaia Shaw.” I stiffened when the cool voice called my name, but I should have realized when they’d said oldest to youngest, I would go first since I’d likely been the only one reborn as an adult. Whispers broke out in the audience, and I felt so many pairs of eyes analyzing my every movement as I walked forward.
I stopped in front of the jar and couldn’t help but ogle at it; it was gorgeous, almost otherworldly. Thin and nearly translucent, the outside of it swirled with bright jewel tones of red, blue, purple and gold - the inside an iridescent green. It looked delicate and indestructible at the same time, causing an inexplicable pain to bloom in my chest. I sighed and fisted my trembling hands, yet I couldn’t bring myself to raise them as the jug glowed.
I looked up at the man who called out my name. I whispered, “What should I do?” My eyes darted around, trying not to connect with any of the curious gazes turned my way to watch me fumble through being the only one in the room who didn’t know what to do.
He blinked at me before smiling encouragingly. “Just hold your hand over the rim. It does the rest.”
“It’s safe?” I was very unsure of what he meant by “the rest”.
“As can be.” He really wasn’t very reassuring but wanting to get out of the spotlight, I felt my hand start to warm from inside my fist and in the back of my mind I imagined it exploding. The pressure of the warmth compelled my hand to open, and faint white light surrounded my hand before it was swatted away harshly. My eyes flinched up to find the same man who had spoken earlier holding his cane over the jar’s opening. He glared at me, a menacing grin on his face.
“Enough. At your age, you do not deserve to undergo this honour. You will join the Air department in the Inkhaven Academy as it seems only fitting for them to take you and rectify the mistake that they made in allowing you to come here.”
The man in black with red trim at the back held up a long-handled sickle, moving forward. “Headmaster Stewart, I must protest. The child hasn’t been chosen and even if she were, she has undergone absolutely no preparatory training.”
“She is here because your sect failed to do it’s duty, Willems and so this is my final say. Maybe the Air program can fix her.” He gestured to the young man. “Proceed to the rest.”
I moved to step forward, but he stopped me by resting the tip of his cane against my shoulder.
I looked at it, horrified. “I’m sorry, what’s going on?”
He smiled at me but I only saw a dark pleasure in it. “You’re going to Inkhaven Academy, Miss Shaw. Term starts next week.”
I opened my mouth to say something - a protest or a question, I didn’t know, just something, but nothing came out. I gasped and went numb. I listened to the curious whispers around me taking on an edge at the Headmaster’s announcement.
It was going to be a shit year.
✽✽✽
It was bright and early with the sun barely in the sky, and I worried the collar of the grey uniform I wore. I stood just inside a tall, black ornate gate where Angela, who I had learned was the head of the Rebirth Survivors Branch of the Fire Mages had taken me. In the last days I’d been under her care, and she along with a few other Fire Mages tried to explain everything to me and while they’d been reassuring I just knew I was done for. Since I’d survived my original adult rebirth date through sheer, dumb luck, going to Inkhaven Academy would ensure that the mistake be rectified quickly.
That morning, she had given me the same grey uniform from Ritual day but this time, it came with a bright red sash and a jacket trimmed in the same bright ruby red color - red being the color of Airs I couldn’t be surprised. She’d walked with me to the gate and urged me inside with a quick squeeze of the hand before quickly walking away - she had her children to watch over after all. But that was how I found myself there, waiting in the frigid early morning fall wind and glad that I had the jacket to protect me from the cold.
After some time waiting, the big, heavy oak door swung open and a tall man clad in black trimmed with red walked quickly through and purposefully towards me.
“Miss Shaw?” His voice was deep and unfriendly, like his eyes that stared at me.
I trembled and not just from being out in the cold for fifteen minutes. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Follow me.” And he turned around and walked quickly back without seeing if I would, seeing as we both knew I had absolutely no choice in the matter anyway.
We stepped in and away from the blowing wind, but I rubbed my jacket-clad arms up and down as the inside of the building was still quite chilly. I spied the high ceiling which was the most likely cause of the draft. My footsteps sounded hollowly on the rough stone floors, but with the numbness from the cold and the speed I had to walk to follow my guide I only got very vague impressions of the building.
He stopped in front of a small, heavy door, also made of oak, that was no less ornate than the front door had been. He knocked twice, and I heard a voice from inside say, “Enter.”
My guide opened the door. “Miss Shaw, Headmaster.”
“Let her in, Frost, then you may go. Thank you.”
“Of course, Headmaster.” He turned back to me and nodded towards the open doorway. “Go.”
Swallowing hard, I took a tentative step forward and the moment I stepped over the threshold, the door slammed behind me with a bang. The room, which was larger than I’d expected it to be, was crammed with shelves full of books, scrolls and equipment. It was made even more cramped by the two men who occupied it. I recognized the long-haired man I’d seen that first night I’d woken up in the infirmary - Porter - standing just beside the desk. The other man who sat behind the large wooden desk, fingers steepled before him, had unfortunately occupied most of my thoughts in the last two days, but not in a pleasant way. His shiny black wooden cane was propped up against
the side of the desk, and I winced at the reminder of the way he’d touched me with it so carelessly.
“Miss Shaw,” he spoke deliberately, “have a seat.”
I felt my knees knock together, but I walked forward and perched on the hard, wooden chair. I averted my gaze and simply focused my stare on the cane, but I felt the long-haired man’s eyes on me.
“Miss Shaw.” My head swivelled to face Headmaster Stewart though I was sure the other man was still staring. “As I mentioned during the Ritual, you will join the Air students. Because you’re beyond the age of twenty-one, which is when Air trainees begin to enter the Academy, you will catch up with a unique curriculum that has been designed just for you. You will undergo exams, Trials and classes with those in your year or those of your age. That way, if you survive, you might only graduate one or two years late rather than four.”
When he stopped, I could only blink at him, and he smiled at me, cruel malice written in his features. “Again, if you survive. This is Air Docent Gaylord Porter,” he said, gesturing to the tall man, who nodded briefly at me. I gave him a shy dip of my head, fiddling with my fingers momentarily before I swallowed and forced my eyes back to the Headmaster’s. “He is also a certified Air Mage assassin, and I’m sure he will enjoy helping you during your time in the Academy. Docent Porter,” he addressed the other man, “I leave Miss Shaw in your capable hands. You may show her to her room.”
Docent Porter spoke up as he arched an elegant eyebrow, “Very well, Headmaster. Miss Shaw.” I stood up and bowed to the headmaster awkwardly as I scrambled out of the office after the docent. He was waiting for me when I stepped out and closed the door behind me carefully, not allowing it to slam in the way the man called Frost had.
“How are you feeling, Miss Shaw?”
I started at the question. Aside from the Fire Mages who’d cared for me, no one else had bothered to consider my health. “I’m well, thank you for asking.” I began to say something but hesitated and shut my mouth instead, but I saw him staring down at me.
“Yes?”
“I just have a few questions, Air Docent.”
A small smile formed in his mouth and while it made him seem more charming, somehow it did not soften his features at all. “I figured. I’d have been very surprised if you didn’t. However, I cannot guarantee to answer them all.”
“That’s fair. What was he saying in there?” I winced a little when I realized how inane I sounded.
He chuckled deeply. “You mean the headmaster? Oh, he has plans. Safe to say that it’s pretty complicated and convoluted, but he means for you to find your time in this academy a difficult one.”
“I got that much.”
“No, you misunderstand,” he cut me off, rubbing his temples. “He’s making you cram the work of three years into one as a punishment. This way.” He pointed towards a long hallway off an alcove, and I followed along absently, still pondering what he’d said.
“But why on earth would he want to punish me?” My steps slowed, horror sinking through me. I’d have been better off being reborn.
He turned and touched a finger to my cheek where my scar was. He ignored my question as he stared down at it intently. “I didn’t do this, did I?”
“No, I’ve had it since I was a child. Why would you think you gave it to me?”
“That I’m surprised you would ask me. I was certain you’d remember.”
Vague recollections of his long hair in the water and glowing flashed through my mind, and I shook my head as the memory brought on a flash of fear. “I suppose I do, vaguely. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“You shouldn’t be here, Kaia Shaw. A fact that was made very clear and has the headmaster especially displeased - at you for being here and at us for failing in the one task we are trained to do.”
“He wants me to fail,” I sighed out.
“Incorrect, Miss Shaw. Trainees of twenty-one who have undergone at least two to three years of preparatory training can fail. No, he means for you to die.” He knocked on a door as I gaped at him.
“Apologies, but it is best that you know the status. Miss Montgomery,” he addressed the young lady who opened the door. She had big, bright blue eyes, a lot of blond hair and a mouth formed into an ‘o’.
“This is Miss Kaia Shaw, your new roommate.” He turned to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Miss Shaw, Charlotte Montgomery. I leave you here for now to get settled. Please see me in my classroom this afternoon.” He gave us a nod and walked off.
The blonde smiled and held out a hand. “Charlotte Montgomery, but you call me Lottie now,” she drawled out with a twang. I reached out and took her hand, shocked when she pulled me in.
I gave her a startled glance, finding her eyes very nearly level with my own - an unusual feat for someone as small as me. She grinned at me, full lips stretched over white teeth and smiling, striking blue eyes.
“Erm,” I hesitated. “Hi?”
She chuckled. “Hi, sweetie. Kaia, I believe Docent Porter said?” I gave an awkward nod, glancing about the room with a flinch. “It ain’t much to be sure, but it’s ours for the time being.”
What looked like her half of the room was a wreck, clothes thrown everywhere in spite of the uniform we wore for classes. She didn’t wear it outside of them evidently, dressed as she was in a flattering blue sundress.
“I don’t expect I’ll be here long. The headmaster wants me dead.” I sighed, perching on the edge of the unclaimed small twin bed. Everything on my side was bare - walls, bed, shelves and dresser. The bareness just summed up my life at the moment.
“Never you mind that, sweetheart. We’ll get you caught up.” Her voice was like hot honey, warm and soothing and her manner as she sat next to me, the same. She stared at the side of my face analytically with her head tilted to the side.
“Why would you help me?” I couldn’t help but ask with a swallow. I had nothing to offer her in exchange.
“Oh, did you want to die?” she asked matter-of-factly. I just stared at her wide-eyed, and she nodded. “Us girls are few and far between here. We’ve got to look after one another.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and jumping up to fold some of her clothes that’d drifted to my side.
“Ok?” I was just getting more confused.
She turned back my way with a small smile. “Well let’s get to know each other then. Did you have a boyfriend back home?”
“I-yes. Casually, of course.” I shrugged, brow furrowed at the turn in conversation. She picked a dress out of her closet, and with a gentle tug, she held it up against me.
She pursed her lip, shaking her head. “With you here now there are six female students in the Air track - from all five years.”
“Six? But that’s so few! How many male students are there?”
“I don’t remember the exact count, but it’s about forty male Air students, I guess. Mhm, roughly eight a year give or take one or two.” A new dress pressed against my chest. “Your skin is fascinating. I can’t decide if its ivory or more of a fair dusky color.” She went back and forth between a blush dress and grape-colored one.
“I-I don’t have a clue,” I answered honestly. “Does that have something to do with what you’re saying? Skin?”
“Oh Zeevar no!” She laughed. “I’m vain about looks, let me tell you so I’m just imagining how pretty you’ll look once we get you out of that horrible grey monstrosity.”
“Ah!” I looked down. “I don’t actually wear dresses.”
“Oh.” She pouted, shrugging and throwing the dresses onto her bed. “Anyway, most of the girls here were raised in the Order since childhood. We are taught more,” she paused, tilting her head, a little flush to her cheeks as she searched for the best words. “Shall we say fluid relationship dynamics.”
“What does that mean?” I crossed my ankles and plopped on my bed, and she sat next to me with a sigh.
“Traditional relationships are rare. Most of us just enjoy open and casual sexua
l encounters. Men with women, women with women though that one is more rare if it’s exclusively Air, men with men. Oh and groups are fairly common too.”
“That’s the normal thing?” There were bisexual people, in what one could call the ‘outside’ and though they were accepted, they still weren’t the social norm.
She nodded. “If a woman does enter into an official relationship, it’s typically with several men.” I knew I must have looked confused when she giggled at me. “Oh, sweetie your face.”
“How does that even work?”
She shrugged. “Every pair or group is different, really. I just wanted to give you a warning, since we are very open sexually and most won’t give a thought they might shock you with what they say or suggest. Sex is a way we can give to Zeevar as it creates the magic of life, that energy, even though we can’t actually have children.”
I skipped over some of the facts she’d relayed, needing to get into the details of how a relationship with multiple men could even begin to work. “Do you have boyfriends?”
“Zeevar, no. I can’t be bothered with all that. There are enough men around to enjoy when I get that urge, but aside from that I’ve no interest. I’m not a prude, that’s not something you can be here really. But to me, sex is friendly. It’s not something I use as currency, but I’m also not occupied with the collection of dicks like it’s something that encompasses my entire existence. Not that there’s anything completely bad with that.” She sat next to me, taking my hand in hers. “You’re going to be competition to those girls who think they’re the shit purely for the fact that they’re girls. Best to just stay out of their way. Besides that, some of the guys here will take a naive girl like you and chew you up. You’ll have to harden yourself to that. You can’t expect a fairytale ever after here.”
“It won’t be something to worry about. I’m not cut out to be here.” I fiddled with the hem of my top even as I shrugged out of my jacket.
“Stop it. Don’t give up before you even try winning.” She stood, taking my hand and helping me up. “Let’s go get some food, yeah? The food here is the best part.”