2. Chapter 1
“Tensions are growing between land activists and Governor Vialys as more trees near our borders are being cut down. Those on the scene say this threatens the safety of the Arcane should the barriers fail… ” The news anchor’s voice cut through her reverie, Ivy’s focus coming back to the pale, pink scar across her palm she got that night.
She squeezed her hand before lifting the lid of the cardboard box she’d stuffed under her bed a few months ago.
It held some of Briar’s things left behind, pictures of them together, and other memories she had around her little studio apartment.
Things she couldn’t keep looking at after the police declared Briar was dead only a month after she went missing.
At the very top were the few missing persons posters she had left. She picked up the flyer. The bold, black lettering and black-and-white picture of Briar—taken at their graduation party from their foundational studies—blurred as tears clouded her vision.
They’d gotten through the last nine years in that hell-hole of a school.
After graduation, they found a small two-bedroom apartment in uptown Drestin to spend their gap year.
It was too grimy for the amount of rent they were asking, but it was theirs.
They spent the year living in the small lakeside city.
Ivy dated a little; Briar dated a lot. None lasted long.
They had their sights set on Arcania Academy, an elite graduate school where they’d finish their studies together, and nothing would get in their way.
Except…Briar was accepted.
And Ivy was wait-listed.
It stung like hell. When Briar left, Ivy found a small studio apartment downtown above a sushi restaurant, rented by the month in case she received an acceptance letter.
When she drained her gap year funds, she had to find a job to supplement her income and keep herself busy.
She applied to several jobs at garden centers, alchemy shops, and even little gift shops specializing in scented candles and lotions.
The only place to offer her a job was the local video rental store.
The owner made it clear he didn’t care about the fact that it was only temporary for her.
He only needed someone to help with the register.
Briar had kept in touch, calling once every couple of weeks. She was planning to come home for winter break with Ivy’s very own school sweatshirt in tow.
“For next year,” Briar told her with hope. And she clung to that. She refused to let it go, especially since it might hold the key to helping her parents more than she’d been able to.
The phone call was the first time she’d felt a sharp pain coming from her scar. It was then she knew whatever blood spell Briar had found twelve years ago had done something. But what? She had no clue. It was a secret Briar kept, even from her.
As the holidays loomed in the distance, Ivy’s hand felt like it was going to split open for a week.
And once winter break had come, the pain subsided, but she hadn’t heard from Briar in weeks.
Neither had her parents. It wasn’t long after that there was news about a student going missing from Arcania.
Ivy had printed countless missing posters to hang around Drestin, Averston, and even took the train to the town surrounding the school.
It only took two weeks for her name to stop being mentioned in the news.
Two more weeks and the police pronounced her dead, saying they’d found her body deep in the woods off campus.
Briar had the smallest obituary, as if her existence was an inconvenience to the others who had lived much longer lives.
As if she weren’t important. When to Ivy, Briar was all she had most days.
She could barely sleep. Barely eat. Barely tended to the plants she’d taken on as friends in Briar’s place.
But she couldn’t give up. Ivy refused to believe Briar had died.
What was the point of the blood ritual if Ivy didn’t protect her in the end?
So she continued printing posters and hanging them.
When they’d get torn off or covered, she’d print and hang more.
She continued even when people would whisper behind her back about how she’d gone mad.
Though as time dragged on without Briar, it was hard to cling to the hope that someday she would show up at Ivy’s door.
There were nights when she dreamed about it happening.
A knock on the door would wake her up, and when she’d trod over to open it, Briar would be on the other side.
Her hair would still be perfectly curled and glossy as ever, and they would hug each other until Ivy’s strength waned.
Briar would make a joke about the “closet” she was living in—which housed a single double bed, a dresser, a loveseat, a kitchenette, and a bathroom tiny enough that she had to use a curtain in place of a door.
Despite it being cramped, she still brought some charm to the place by filling every nook and cranny with as many plants, warm lights and colors, and books as she could stuff in.
Every time the dream came to her, she’d be disappointed it wasn’t real.
The poster crinkled in her hand as her tears fell. She was tired. So tired. She didn’t want to give up on Briar, but she couldn’t live like this either, as if she were adrift in the middle of the ocean with no guide on where to go next.
It was time to move on; send Briar’s parents the last of their daughter’s things.
Ivy would keep some pictures and some other things, like the friendship bracelet she outgrew a few years ago.
She took the last few missing posters from the box.
Her parents probably wouldn’t want to see it.
What parent would? After taking out what she wanted to keep, she sealed the box and wrote their new address on the cover.
She glanced at the alarm clock on her dresser and groaned when it was already nearly ten in the morning.
Her shift at the video store started in over an hour.
Fridays were busy with people looking for a new release or an old favorite for the weekend.
And with school being finished until fall, kids would try swapping age-appropriate tapes with ones with drugs, violence, or sex.
They got caught every time, but it didn’t stop them from trying.
It wasn’t illegal, unlike the smuggled movies from the mundane towns her boss would sell under the table.
The lack of magical effects in arcane movies was apparently the reason they sold “for a pretty penny”.
Ivy pushed herself up from the ground, getting changed into a simple black miniskirt, tights, and an off-white long-sleeved shirt.
The temperatures outside hadn’t reached summer levels yet, and her boss seemed to think 65 degrees Fahrenheit was equal to 100, so he’d turn the air conditioner on early in the season.
After changing, she pulled her long red hair into a claw clip and applied enough makeup to cover the faint purple tone in the creases of her under-eyes and add a little color to her freckled white cheeks.
Normally she’d do more, but the tears hadn’t fully cleared yet, and surely families picking out the film for their movie night would be put off by mascara stains running down her face.
She went through the rest of her morning routine as usual—brushing her teeth, watering her cerulean fern, Lou, and his plant-mates, before eating a quick breakfast. As she sat on her couch to eat her cereal, she peered at the unopened, thick, legal-size envelopes from the few graduate schools she had applied to.
After her fiasco last year, she thought she’d better apply to others.
The envelopes held acceptance letters. She knew better than to place her hopes on one school again.
But she was still waiting for the one from Arcania.
She reapplied, hoping she’d make it off the waitlist. It was all crickets, and it was long past the time when colleges sent out their letters.
What if they saw her name again and threw her application in the trash?
She finished the last of her breakfast before leaving the couch.
“One more day,” she grumbled, placing her bowl in the sink. “I’ll wait one more day to decide.”
Ivy hopped off the train car and onto the concrete platform.
Drestin’s train system, while not having the most robust public transport of arcane cities, was convenient enough to get to most places around downtown, even if she had to listen to the emerald line squeal worse than a trapped rat in a small cage.
She balanced the box in her arms as she shuffled along the sidewalk leading away from the platform.
There were no giant skyscrapers in the city, and no matter which angle she faced, the glittering lake and the rise and fall of mountains were visible in the distance.
The sun shone brightly on the crowds in the streets as they went about their daily lives.
High above them and the buildings was a magical barrier, concealing arcane lands from the mundane.
It was invisible to the naked eye, though everyone with magic could feel the thrum of its energy at all times.
Almost like the static from it being too quiet. Present, but easy to ignore.
Within minutes, she stood in front of the stone steps leading to the post office.
The gray-and-white building blended in with the rest of the city’s business district, with the only signs being the stripe of dark purple on the exterior trim and large silver letters spelling out “Drestin Postal Service”.
When she walked inside, fresh paper, ink, and dust filled her senses.
Old hinges of bronze mailboxes squeaked as they opened, thumps of packages being dropped echoed off the tall ceiling, and rushed footsteps clacked against the green and white marble tile in time with the punches of cash register keys. All of which meant the line was long.