Chapter 13 #2
Everyone who passes will be assigned a division based on their exam scores.
Savants’ profound memories are deployed using history and information to help adapt movements, leading us on the battlefield.
Spycraft stay hidden in plain sight or change their appearance, working in tandem with sneaky Scouting Rogues to gather intel or for covert missions.
While having phenomenal sight and true aim targets you for Marksman, natural abilities for mending brings you to the Healers.
A passion for Rune Tech and weaving runes lands you as a Runic Engineer.
Strength and mastery in hand-to-hand combat are naturals for the Ground-Combatants.
Persuasives are exceptional at mindwork and interrogation.
Kinetics are known to be extremely powerful magic wielders; their job is to protect the Ground Unit while the Chivalry leads the attack from the skies.
Each division has their strengths, but they’re not as adept in the other areas.
Being proficient in every category marks you as a recruit.
This group of ensigns has the chance of becoming Ellian Knights.
Some will fall along the way, while others who fail to progress as predicted will be reassigned into other divisions.
Recruits who prove their mettle have one last hurdle to survive: the Celestial Bonding event, a daylong affair where all the recruits voyage out into the Mysticwoods south of campus.
They will either die in the woods or come back as Ellian Knights, bonded to a mystical flying creature.
Those who succeed are marked with an Arcane Glyph, forging an ionic bond that lasts a lifetime.
Followed by celebrating the Celestial Dawning Festivities throughout all of Cascara, paying thanks to the protection of the Golden Legion.
As I lift my hand off the parchment of the exam, I’m left with a heady feeling from the powerful magic, like I’ve drunk one too many flutes of sparkling Moonwine.
A purple spark shimmers as the parchment spins into a roll, disappearing.
The purple light swirls around me, leading me out of the auditorium to the rotunda before winding through the endless white-marble and golden corridors of Universitás to find my room in the first year’s section.
I peer up to see the glass-domed ceiling, inlaid with intricate swirling golden runes.
The campus appears more like a castle for the heavens than a place to be trained for war.
Part of me feels the opulence—the gilded white battle leathers we are adorned with—is to separate us from other Fae, making us appear almost Celestial-like.
Yet we are not. We’re all simply mortals.
The queen’s tax increases snag my mind as I take in all the luxury.
If I think this place is lavish, her castle must be beyond words.
Bile rises in my throat. Poverty racks our continent, and yet we could solve it with all the gold here on campus.
If I weren’t so numb from forcing down the crippling grief of losing Sully, my heart might cry for the indignation.
Every year, more and more children are being born without magic, their ears completely rounded, signaling the loss of part of their soul.
When I was in Doraan, the town outside of Gildorea, I saw a human child smile.
Despite everyone else’s beliefs, I know humans still have magic in their veins—hope is a power all its own.
The loss of the Celestials is no doubt the cause of waning magic. I remember hearing stories in the bar while I hid under tables, eating crumbs that tumbled to the floor. Patrons recalled fables of a time nothing short of a fairytale—when the Celestials ruled and there was only peace.
Everyone had full stomachs, every crop bore a bountiful harvest, every being had a roof over their head.
People worked with smiles on their faces, honoring our Celestial by sharing goods and services with everyone.
One particularly drunk old lady crooned over how you could go to the capital and watch the Celestial create things of pure dreams. She said that’s why our world was full of such a wide array of magical creatures and different Fae species: their imagination and powers were limitless.
She raved about how there was no illness, and even death was rare, filling Cascara with endless love and mirth.
I wonder what kind of person I would have become, growing up in such a world. One where I was whole and full of light and love. A world where I could dare to dream, dare to hope. A dry laugh escapes my chest. Broken things like me should know better than to indulge in fantasies.
The purple spark zips up a golden spiral stairway in front of me.
I bound up the steps, two at time to keep up.
It fizzles out in front of the middle door in a small hallway.
I stand outside, taking a deep breath, not sure why I’m hesitating opening the door, when the hairs prickle on the back of my neck.
Fucking Emberhell. What is he doing here?
I lean my forehead against the cool wooden door. My heartbeat picks up as smoky shadows curl around the one I cast below me. As if my shadow is something precious to hold.
An odd feeling kicks up in my chest, as if I am worthy of feeling precious. Indulging such thoughts would only lead to my ruin, especially where this male is involved. A pang of longing scratches the surface of where my heart should be.
“I need you to kindly fuck off.” Right along with the strange way my body reacts to his presence.
“You need me? My, how things have escalated. I rather like this forward side of you,” S?las croons from behind me.
A mix of a grunt and an exasperated sigh escapes my chest regarding his selective comprehension.
I lazily turn to face the obnoxious male behind me.
My eyes drag up his tall, muscled frame, wrapped in black leather, leaning against the wall.
Of course, he’s the only one of us who gets to wear fucking black.
“You need to learn how to take a hint.”
“Oh, but I am. Don’t think I can’t hear your heartbeat from here?”
“That happens when you find someone aggravating.” I roll my eyes as a cloud of shadows swirls beside me to reveal S?las leaning with his arms braced behind his head. Heat skitters through my veins with his proximity.
“Are you going to tell me that scent you’re giving off is aggravation too?” He arches a dark brow at me.
I want to kick and scream at my traitorous body. Instead, I shrug, trying to breeze over the statement. “That scent means nothing, other than my hormones have… pretty low standards.” I rake my gaze over him with a venomous smile.
He clenches his jaw, lifting his tattooed knuckles to rub at his chest—as if I actually wounded him with my words. Good. Maybe he’ll finally leave me alone now. Then something shifts in him as his full lips kick up at the corner.
“The lowest.” He winks before he vanishes in a plume of shadows.
The wild swing of his emotions leaves a subtle dust of chaos in his wake, stirring something deep within my own darkness. As if it’s waking up to take note of someone important.
I drag my hand down my face. No. Absolutely not. He is no one to me. He’s nothing more than a distraction.