InkSpelled (InkHaven Academy Book 1)

by Kenna Bardot

  “When Zeevar blessed us by bringing us into the Order, he gave us a light inside.” His gaze cut to mine, and I winced. He knew my troubles concerning the light but he continued, eyes still on me, “This light needs a conduit to help us control its path, allows us the availability to use it with more ease. However, it takes training and discipline to reach that point. If you cannot call and control your light without a conduit then your conduit cannot hope to call and control a light that is not there to begin with.”

  I heard the whispers and as Emerson gave my hand a gentle squeeze, I had a feeling a lot of the whispers were about me. I fought the urge to sink down into my seat low enough for the floor to swallow me whole.

  Docent Porter smiled and pushed the sleeves of his jacket back to reveal his tattoo. “Now, for the part you’ve all been waiting for. It is time to choose your conduit. For all of you who have known you would be training to be Air Mages at the age of twenty-one, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

  He gestured for us to follow him into the adjoining room, which was more airy and light due to its high ceilings and numerous windows. The walls were lined with racks and shelves filled with weapons of all shapes and sizes, some with blades gleaming in the light and others with dull intricate hilts and handles that gave off an odd sort of beauty.

  “Do you all remember that moment you stood in front of the Zeevar jar?”

  Zeevar, I did. It wasn’t that long ago, really, and it haunted my nightmares. Although, probably, my experience was unlike any of the others and not what Docent Porter was referring to. He reached into his back pocket for a sheet of folded parchment.

  “One by one, you will move to the middle of the room while the rest of us will stand by the doorway, silent. As with the Choosing Ritual, you need only hold out your hand, let the light guide you. It might take some time, but it will let you know where to go. If you need to make more of a connection, I advise you to close your eyes.”

  He looked down at the parchment. “Brown, you’re up first.”

  A tall, lanky guy with short brown hair and dark skin walked forward and stood on the spot that Docent Porter indicated with a wave of the hand. He gestured us all backwards and held a finger to his lips to indicate silence.

  I moved to the back of the pack where Emerson joined me and whispered, “Exciting, isn’t it?”

  I smiled at him weakly as I swallowed nervously, but nodded regardless as I watched Brown intently. He had his eyes closed and his hand out, chest heaving to indicate he was likely breathing heavily. A few moments later, a faint red light swirled around his right hand. He turned and walked forward somewhat confidently but still with his eyes completely shut.

  Without seeing, he stopped in front of a shelf lined with axes at the perfect moment. His hand trembled a moment before picking up a double-edged axe. The moment his hands wrapped around the thick handle, his eyes flew open, and he raised the weapon high with a triumphant grin on his face.

  We all burst into applause and Docent Porter jogged over to give him a bolstering pat on the back. “Well done, Brown. That was a good demonstration especially with the light, which isn’t normally apparent because this ritual can be quite internal,” he addressed us. “But it was certainly a great demonstration. May I see?”

  Brown held out the weapon, and I could feel myself tear up at the utter pride and disbelief in his face. The weapon belonged in his hands, no one could doubt that. Docent Porter bent down to examine the weapon but did not touch. “Long-handled double-edged axe, close combat. Strong and almost brutal. Congratulations, Brown. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you, Docent Porter!” He ran back to us.

  “Okay, next. Coleman.”

  A blond man walked up and, as Docent Porter had explained was possible, he had no light even as his hands trembled and shook. He took longer than Brown had but eventually chose a highly-curved sword that Docent Porter called a scimitar. Unruly but steadfast, also for close combat.

  Gonzalez went next, a dark-haired, dark-eyed guy with bulky muscles and below average height. He was very quick in choosing a pair of thick, scary-looking brass knuckles that he put on immediately. Docent Porter pronounced them as being ferocious and aggressive and a fisted weapon. That Gonzalez smiled at the adjectives were indicators that he agreed with them completely, and I swore to myself that I would avoid him.

  “Hawkins,” Docent Porter called out and realizing that it was Emerson, I gave his hand a squeeze and wished him luck. He smiled at me and put two thumbs up as he walked quickly up front. I noticed Emerson’s bright red hair and how the sheen of it gleamed from the sunlight that speared down from the big, vaulted windows. Even with his eyes closed, his lips were curved into a smile, and I couldn’t help but think of how pretty he was. Not handsome in the traditional sense, but definitely pretty. He walked forward and his other hand came forward, and he grabbed identical twin swords simultaneously. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at the two swords he held. As with the others, we applauded, and I saw Docent Porter walk up, rubbing the stubble along his jaw as he did so. “Interesting, Mr. Hawkins. Twin swords - a peculiar choice and very rare. Unexpected and rebellious, close combat.”

  “Thanks, Ga- Docent Porter,” he corrected with an embarrassed grin. Docent Porter simply raised a brow at him.

  When he walked back to me, twin swords in hand, I felt the need to hug him but instead bumped my shoulders against him lightly. “Well done, Emerson. Didn’t know you were a rebel.”

  He blushed adorably, and I chuckled at him even as we watched the next guy move up - Lee. He chose a double-ended hammer that was called elegant but stubborn. Also a close combat weapon.

  Next was Mcmillan with a long throwing javelin that was exacting and innovative, ranged.

  I started sweating when I realized only one guy was left besides myself and when he was called - Roberts - I realized that having gone alphabetically I had somehow ended up last.

  Roberts got a group of throwing balls that were tough but effective and also ranged.

  Finally, Docent Porter called me, and I trembled as Emerson gave my shoulder a firm but reassuring squeeze.

  “Miss Shaw,” Docent Porter said softly as he stood by me at the front of the class. He addressed me in a voice low enough that the others were likely unable to hear. “I know what you’re likely thinking, and I understand your predicament.” I stared up at him and met his eyes - they were serious, concerned. “You’ve shown that you haven’t accessed the light yet and it’s very fortunate, indeed, that you’re last. You’ve seen how it goes so act it out then just grab whichever looks most inviting, hmm?”

  I nodded, my lips in a tight line. I heard Docent Porter reach the back of the room and call out to tell me to get started. I closed my eyes and held out my hand, chuckling to myself silently when I felt it tremble. I hadn’t had to pretend there since my nerves acted on my behalf. After what I felt was a reasonable amount of time, I turned and opened my eyes and to keep my back to the rest of the room, I walked forward and stopped in front of a display of swords. My eyes were drawn to a short sword with a slightly curved edge but what really drew me was the hilt where an intricate design was carved. It reminded me of Docent Porter’s tattoo, which gave me a strange sense of comfort. I bent forward, gripped the handle and pulled the sword free. It wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be, feeling comfortable in my hand whereas the sword I’d used the day before had felt intrusive and heavy.

  When I turned, the class was silent a beat before bursting out into applause and when Docent Porter gave me the same shoulder pat he’d given the rest of the class. I felt a sinking feeling at the way I’d cheated. I wasn’t meant to be there and they were cheering me because they thought I was.

  “Well done, Miss Shaw! The short curved-blade sword. Reliable but sometimes frenetic.” He clapped. “Well done, everybody and congratulations! Now, back into the classroom.”

  I moved to follow, but I stopped, my eyes drawn to a display of whips
, ropes and chains. I took several steps closer to it to satisfy my curiosity when I heard Docent Porter’s voice. “Class, settle and sit down.” Jolted from my thoughts, I walked quickly back inside and plopped down into the chair beside Emerson.

  “Please choose a proper holding device for your weapon from the cabinet at the back before you leave the classroom. If you need help, I am happy to assist.” He gestured vaguely to the back of the room. I glanced back to see the tall wooden cabinet at the left side of the room that I hadn’t noticed earlier.

  “There are a few rules on the use of your weapon. I am assuming, as this is your first week in InkHaven, you haven’t had your first Air Wielding class but as with your Air powers, you are not allowed to use your Air conduit outside this room as a weapon nor as a conduit. Should you be found to have violated this rule, you will be required to leave it in this room and have access to it only during Weapons classes for the rest of the term.

  “Finally please make sure to respect another Mage’s conduit. Do not touch, handle, or take that which isn’t yours. This precaution is not for their sake but for yours. As a Mage’s connection to their weapon increases, it would hurt for anyone else to have even the briefest contact with it without permission. I advise you to never give anyone that permission no matter who it might be. Does anyone have any questions?” He waited a beat and when none of us spoke up continued, “Good. Now we’ll discuss the second part of this course, hand-to-hand combat.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Come in, Kaia. I’m pleased you’ve learned the value of being punctual. Early to class and on time for training, very good. I trust you actually ate a meal this time? I’m afraid I’m out of apples.” Docent Porter stood in the middle of the room, but my eyes tracked towards the men at the edge of the room once more even as I nodded.

  He followed the direction of my gaze and smiled. “Good, you’ll need your energy. Please don’t pay them any mind as I’ve asked them to spectate. I realize I might have been more demanding yesterday than I should have been. Hopefully, having them here will give me better perspective.”

  “Yes, you’re an old man, Porter.” Ronan sat carelessly, his long legs splayed out in front of him.

  “Behave,” Docent Porter scolded his friend but the smile belied the strict tone. “Or I might have to banish you again.”

  “Shut up, Ronan Asher.” Alec Gaius sat, arms crossed behind his head, legs crossed at the knee. He reached out to touch the tip of one of his shoes to nudge Ronan’s side. He kept his gaze away from me and instead stared at the ceiling.

  “Bullies. You’re all bullies. But, fine, I’m shutting up. No way I’m missing this spectacle,” Ronan’s husky voice was cruel, something akin to malice tainting it as he glared at me.

  Docent Porter gestured to the weapon I held in my hand - the same one I had picked in his class earlier. “It’s probably best for you not to use that one yet, at least not until you have a better handle on it.”

  He handed me the same sword I’d used previously, and I could see he had a wooden sword again. I nodded and took it before leaning my own sword -holstered- against the classroom wall.

  “Now, attack me, Kaia. Show me if you learned anything yesterday,” Docent Porter said, gesturing me on with his fingers.

  I sighed, whispering, “I will but we both know it will accomplish nothing because I don’t know how. That’s what we learned yesterday, I can’t.”

  The blue-eyed man chuckled, a refined sound so patronizing it grated on my nerves.

  “Quiet, Alec Gaius, don’t be an immature ass like Ronan.” Ronan grunted at Docent Porter’s comparison but said nothing.

  Docent Porter turned back to me, “Do it. It doesn’t matter if nothing will work - everything improves with practice. The fear of failure should never stop you.” I’d have sworn the room swam in response to his words. I moved to comply, lifting the sword to the best of my ability as he’d showed me the night before, I lunged for him with everything I had in me.

  He swatted it away without effort. I repeated the motion, putting my entire body into the lunge. He stepped aside, bringing the wooden practice sword down on my lower back hard - harder than he had the day before - enough to sting. I cried out, grabbing it reflexively.

  “That hurt,” I whined. The fact that I’d pretended to be a real Air Mage earlier still played on my mind. I didn’t know why but I responded to the guilt by complaining about everything. I hated myself for it but couldn’t stop.

  “It was meant to,” Docent Porter shot back. “Put in some effort.”

  “Why? You’ve declared that I wouldn’t manage to hit you!” I hissed, feeling tears threaten at the corners of my eyes.

  “So because you failed, because you’re in pain, you just give up? After one measly night of training and faced with a harder opponent, you just throw in the towel?” Porter’s arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at me.

  “I’m never going to be an Air Mage. I’m never going to be anything.”

  The silence from our audience was deafening in the face of my confession. “And why is that?” Porter asked, his face pinched in thought, he really wanted me to answer. It enraged me because I felt it was obvious.

  “Because I have lived my entire life simply waiting to die!” I jumped back as Docent Porter struck at me with his sword, and I barely managed to parry the blow - falling back a step when he jabbed at me again.

  “Stop expecting too much from me!” I shrieked finally, falling on my ass. He was even more demanding than the previous night, so it was a laughable thought that he’d invited his friends over for ‘perspective.’ Maybe he had his buddies over so he wouldn’t kill me.

  Or they could help him hide the body - who knew at this point.

  “I want you to fight! Not in perfect physical form but show me you have the drive to fight,” Docent Porter pushed. “Otherwise you’re just wasting my time.”

  The door opened and Emerson stepped in. “Hey guys!” He pouted. “I’m late. What’d I miss?”

  “Another first year in the room. What on earth are we friends with you for, Emers?” Ronan raised a brow at Emerson who just beamed.

  “Well, everyone loves me.” Emerson said it without any hint of irony but seeing how the other guys regarded him, it was likely true.

  “Still a lowly first year, but still better than that one.” Ronan pointed at me and, Emerson, spying me crumpled on the floor rushed over, but Docent Porter held out a hand to stop him in his tracks. “No. She’s on the floor because she didn’t try. Should she stand up, it has to be of her own volition and effort. Will you stand up and continue to fight, Kaia Shaw?”

  I trembled. Inwardly, I cursed Zeevar that I had lived - somehow escaped my rebirth through stupid luck - when I had spent all my time preparing myself to die. “It was cruel to bring me here.” My lips shook but I bit down on it to stop my tears from falling.

  “Take him seriously, woman. Take this seriously or you’ll end up being nothing more than what everyone expected you to be,” Ronan sneered from the sidelines and the truth in his words hit me.

  “They’re being too hard on you, and they expect you to fail. Prove them wrong,” Emerson urged, giving me such a happy smile that I wondered how a single person could be so happy. “It’s worth the pain to look them in the eye and tell them they were wrong about you.” My eyes glanced over him, again realizing how small he was in comparison to the other men in the room. Shorter, slighter and less hardened but no less confident and I envied that about as much as I wanted to hate and resent it.

  “How?” I asked on a whimper even as I wondered if there would ever be a proper answer. I struggled to stand even as my knees knocked together.

  “You let me help you,” Alec Gaius said so suddenly, so impulsively, springing to his feet as he did so. He narrowed his eyes at me, thinking. “I’m the best student at InkHaven, yet somehow you stumped me. If anyone can help Gale teach you, it’s me. Redemption, mine.” He stepped toward me and held o
ut a hand for my sword. I handed it to him and watched as he twirled it around in his hand before tossing it to Emerson, who barely caught it.

  “Why?” I steeled myself as I remembered Lottie’s warnings.

  Docent Porter stared at Alec Gaius as if he’d grown a second head. “You’ll lose focus, and you still need to regain your footing.”

  Alec Gaius shrugged. “My reputation will suffer more if she ends up dead through sheer stupidity. It could be a refresher and given how pathetic she is, it will be a crash course. Besides, if she dies, she takes my reputation with her. She needs to be worth something to prove that no one could have done better than I did.”

  “I concede that you have a point, but I’ll consider it first. You may go, Miss Shaw. Rest, study, train and follow the schedule I gave you and we’ll see what we’ll see.” Docent Porter dismissed me. I turned, hobbling from the room as quickly as I could. I really hoped Lottie had more of that pale blue liquid. I was prepared to beg her for it. On battered knees.

  Five

  Kaia

  Docent Porter eventually allowed Alec Gaius to tutor me, and together they were stricter than I imagined Docent Porter alone would have been.

  What in Zeevarna had I done to deserve this?

  They crammed my days with classes, studying and training. And sleep, only as much sleep for me not to die but not enough for me to feel refreshed. I had only been in the Academy barely a week, but whatever time passed meant I was closer to my qualification exam which would determine my fate in Inkhaven. I felt lost, exhausted and on the brink of disaster.

  That day felt no different as Lottie and I separated after she’d shown me which room to go to. I walked into the room and, as though a blanket had been thrown over them, the entire class quieted instantly, all eyes turning towards me expectantly. Should I really be surprised? I knew people had been talking about me - I was the duck out of water, the outlier. When I’d been able to ‘choose’ a weapon conduit, I’d become interesting - the girl who had just been reborn - too old and too out of place, but that momentary success had lost its shine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a waving hand - Emerson gesturing at me from the back of the room. I heaved a huge sigh of relief and scurried towards the space beside him.