Chapter 5 #2
Where the first person is all delicate grace, the second has a brutal elegance to him.
His face and physique are well-defined. Even in his fitted trousers and oxford button-down, his muscular build is evident.
His strong square jaw and straight, well-proportioned nose give him a traditionally handsome, all-American kind of charm.
Short blonde hair complements his golden skin, and his blue eyes shine with a cunning glint as he takes in his surroundings.
Our gazes lock for a moment through the plane window.
He narrows his eyes just briefly before climbing the stairs.
Kian and Teariki stand to greet them. Kian shaking their hands, Teariki pulling them each in for a long hug. The blonde punches Teariki in the shoulder as they exchange expletives and friendly insults.
“Hey, way to return my texts, asshole,” the blonde chides with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Hmm, I too have called him that a few times in my head over the last twelve hours.
“We ran into some difficulty.” Teariki tilts his head in my direction. I haven’t moved from my perch on the sofa, where I’ve now become the center of attention.
“Ah yes, the elusive Vladlena Solis,” the blonde man hums as he makes himself comfortable.
“Miss Solis, this is Boden Lamont”—Kian gestures to the blonde—“and Callum Fenwick.” He nods toward the other new addition to our travel party. “They’re both students at the institute.”
Callum gives me a small smile as they sink into the armchair next to Teariki. Boden just stares with a blank face.
“Lena,” I correct. “It’s nice to meet you.
” I’m too tired to make small talk. I’ve hardly gotten any sleep, and as a bartender, I consider myself practically nocturnal.
This crack-of-dawn crap and time zone change are about as comfortable to me as a pair of fiberglass underwear.
However, I try to maintain some sort of social decorum and ask, “Are you just starting school, too?”
“No, I’m a second year,” Callum informs me, “and Boden’s a third year. But I think you’re in my wing.”
“Wing?” I inquire as the plane begins takeoff, and I return my iron grip to the armrest. Callum furrows their beautifully sculpted brow.
Teariki quickly steps in. “Lena’s been living as a human. She’s not familiar with our…lifestyle.” He glances at me cautiously.
“Nor is she aware of the various cultures and customs of Sidera’s kingdoms and insignia. Nor informed on the practices and expectations of the institute,” Kian oh so helpfully adds.
It’s the truth, even if it’s annoying that he has to point out how ignorant I am. To be fair, he’s the one who keeps using made-up words. Am I going to need a glossary or a lexicon, like they publish in the back matter of esoteric fantasy novels, to understand what the hell anyone’s saying?
“Ah, I see. Well, the residence hall is organized by wings,” Callum clarifies. “North, South, East, and West. We’re both housed in the North Wing.”
“Just one of many things you’ll learn and adjust to at the institute,” Kian expounds, and hands me a black folder of documents and a pen. “The contractual obligations for the scholarship. Read and sign.”
Once the plane has evened out, I closely look over the contract.
It’s typical legal jargon, but I get the gist. It’s as Kian explained.
Four years of study, tuition, and room and board in exchange for four years’ service to one of the courts of the Realm of Sidera, which I’m still not sure is an actual place.
It outlines that court placement is determined by the signee’s kingdom and insignis and the needs of the courts.
But I don’t fully comprehend what that means.
There are stipulations for my performance at the institute, including maintaining an honors-level grade point average and abiding by the rules outlined within the student handbook.
Additionally, I’m expected to obtain additional tutelage each semester in the form of Independent Study from my faculty advisor so as to gain the expected knowledge achieved in typical Sidera grade school and collegiate education.
I clearly have a lot of catching up to do.
I’d have gone to college if I could have afforded it and could have stayed in one place for more than half a year.
I’ve always excelled at academics—I graduated early from cyber high school—so I’m not too worried about the actual education part of this contract.
It’s all the other stuff that has me pausing.
I get that I’m on a private plane, heading only god knows where with a bunch of overly attractive people.
I also understand that, at this point, between almost ending up on Dateline (who knows, I still might) and leaving all my cash and possessions behind, I might not have much of a choice but to agree to the terms. However, I’m not foolish enough to sign any contract without getting the most imperative question answered.
“So who the actual fuck are all of you?” I ask at a garish volume.
Everyone’s gazes snap in my direction, and Teariki barks out a laugh.
Both Boden and Petra sneer and promptly ignore me, the former instead glaring at his phone.
“As I tried to explain last night before your rapid exit,” Kian begins, “Sidera is composed of four kingdoms, each with its own court made up of prominent houses. Specifics about our political system will be covered in your classes. Nonetheless, what’s important is that you are a citizen of the Realm of Sidera.
Which has its own sovereignty even while existing within the borders of human countries.
Think of it as a country within many other countries. ”
“I’ve never heard of the Realm of Sidera.” I try with all my might to hold back my mocking tone at the name; although judging by the flash in Kian’s eyes, it slips through anyway. “How can I be a resident?”
He sighs, white-knuckling the armrests of his chair like if he holds on tight enough, he can grasp onto his patience.
“You’re magica. Magica and magicae are variations of the same shorthand that our people use to differentiate those like us with magical talents from humans.
Magicae vary by insignis, which indicates the type of magica one is.
” He pauses to check that I’m following along.
Even though I’m distracted by his soft lips, my eyes have yet to glaze over, so he continues, “I’m no etymologist, but magica originates from the Latin word for magical.
Being magica automatically makes you a citizen of Sidera, regardless of where in the world you’re born.
” He pauses again, and this time, I can’t help but let my bulldozer mouth unleash its machine power.
“You know how absurd you sound, right?” I ask. And how douchey, I think to myself.
Teariki jumps in with a soft voice to placate me, “I get how wild this all sounds. I’ve found quite a few magicae living as humans over the last decade, and it’s always a lot to take in. Usually, though, they know something isn’t right. Ever notice anything about you that’s different?”
I quickly shake my head, refusing to dive deeper into the nagging thoughts at the back of my mind.
“For most of us, our talents start taking shape in adolescence. Kind of like magical puberty.” He gives me a small smile. “You get hairier, your balls grow, and you start accidentally lighting shit on fire.”
I giggle.
“Well, your balls probably didn’t grow…cus you don’t have any.” He stumbles over his words as he turns the prettiest shade of burnt umber and mumbles to himself, “Probably. Be okay if you did, though.”
Kian gives him a sideways glance, adding in a condescending tone, “Surely you must be aware of your abilities, Miss Solis.”
I want to throw my slipper at his irritatingly handsome head.
“Lena,” I correct, pinching the bridge of my nose in exhaustion and frustration.
I’m not about to let two talking pairs of biceps, despite how nice they are to look at, tell me who I am.
“As far as I’m aware, I’m completely human, and you’re a few tuna sandwiches short of a picnic. ”
Teariki and Callum snicker while Kian throws a glare in their direction.
“Why are the sandwiches tuna?” Callum gives me a small smile.
“Because this is fishy as fuck,” I deadpan.
But Kian cuts in, “Regardless, you are magica.” His tone is filled with irritation. “While we are not entirely sure of your full lineage, as a Solis, you belong to the Kingdom of Convalescere.”
I open my mouth to argue that I may be convinced that magic exists, but I’m very much human; however, he continues on, “Your insignis is seraphim. Some human cultures confuse them with angels. Though to be as pedantic as possible, angels are a separate insignis in the Convalescere Kingdom entirely. You’ll have talents that coincide with your kingdom and insignis. ”
I bite my lip to hold back all of my ingenious and colorful replies and instead let a huff of air out my nose.
“Think of it like how we use biological classification to group organisms based on shared characteristics,” Callum clarifies. “Take humans, for example. They belong to the family of Hominidae and their genus is Homo and species is sapiens.”
“Right, that’s where we get Homo sapiens. I did pass high school biology,” I remark drolly.
Callum continues, unfazed by my snark, “Therefore our family, if you will, would be magica, and think of the kingdom as your genus, and your insignis corresponds with your species.”
“As far as we are aware, you’re magica, from the Kingdom of Convalescere, and a member of the Seraphim Insignis,” Kian overinterprets, like I’m too inept to keep up with Callum’s explanation. I wonder if Kian gets away with being a jackass because he’s just so damn pretty.
I look between Kian and Teariki, recalling the way they both have moved with a grace that shouldn’t be possible for men of their stature and the dark swirls I saw in Kian’s eyes only hours ago. “And you’re these seraphim creatures?”
“Creatures?” Boden scoffs with an incredulous raise of his eyebrow.
Damnit, Lena, maybe don’t offend the demigods on their private jet?
“We are from a variety of kingdoms and differ in insignia,” Kian corrects. “Boden’s insignis is also seraphim. He’s from the Lamont House.”
“And you have…um—what are the words Kian used?—talents that coincide with your insignis?” I ask, being more considerate with my word choice.
“Yes,” Boden says dryly, and with a flick of his finger in my direction, I’m momentarily blinded by a flash of white light.
I scream, and then I regain my vision, only to realize the contract in my hand has caught on fire.
Teariki reaches forward with reflexes so fast I don’t have time to rear back, and the contract is wrenched from my hands.
Teariki shoves what is left of it into Callum’s water glass.
“Not cool, Bo,” Callum scolds, rolling their eyes.
No shit, fire is in fact the exact opposite of cool! I command my pulse to steady as Kian slides another copy of the contract into my lap.
“Oh-kay.” I drag out the word, ready to power down my brain until after my next opportunity to chug a gallon of iced coffee.
Well, here goes nothing. I sign the new contract with a flamboyant drag of the pen, right under an ominous statement explaining that “Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action, such as expulsion or possible dissolution of this magically binding contract.” Damn, I hope that’s not foreshadowing.