10. Can I survive this?
Can I survive this?
KYRA
Residing in rows of four, we gather in the field’s center, gazing upon four flaming podiums, standing brightly on stage. Dancing in individual colors, black, white, green, and red, tiny embers birth with the roll of a fluttering breeze, making their colors more vibrant.
“All parties, settle down,” a voice spreads amongst the crowd.
Silence rings, and the only emitting sound is the wind itself.
A tall woman enters from behind us, making a straight line towards the front.
“Good evening, I’m your Assistant Dean, Rebecca Secksenmore.
” Reaching the stage, she waves to those in attendance.
“I can’t be the only one who heard her last name,” I say, keeping my voice low, and someone snickers within the crowd.
“Now, you’re about to go through the Awakening and determine your magical orders.
An important step in deciding which House’s Order you’ll be placed in.
Once your magic awakens, if there is more than one order, you’ll go through the trials to decide which one is dominant.
Thus, placing you in the respective House.
Do not linger about, move across the field, and prepare for your next phase.
Everyone will have their time to shine and be admired for whatever order is revealed,” she says, glancing around for any objections.
“We’re about to get started, so please take your seats. ”
Elegantly, she flicks her wrist, and the land trembles, spreading cracks until one by one the earth opens behind us, sprouting miniature tree-like trunks.
Chairs spawn from the twisting vines, engulfed by mesmeric flowers in assorted colors, and I can’t help but notice that mine is the only one with roses blooming at the feet. Who’s doing this?
Intrigued, I peer into the stands, and through the rambunctious crowd of fays, yet no one raises suspicion.
Cheering shatters my thoughts as other students rave and awe at such a beautiful display before taking their seats.
Careful not to harm a single petal, I too follow.
My name places me last, but at least I’m comfortable and surrounded by magical foliage.
Students settle, and Rebecca continues. “We’ll start on this side,” she points to her far right, my left, towards the student in front.
“Once up here, stand before each podium. If the flames acknowledge you, that means you have that order. If it doesn’t, move on to the next. Are there any questions?”
One student raises his hand, and she allows him to ask his question.
“What if you don’t have any magic?” The crowd explodes into laughter.
Rows of heads all turn towards me, and my sheer embarrassment kicks into overdrive.
I figured my name had been passed around the Academy–but this–I wasn’t expecting so much gossip.
She answers, “Ryan, whatever House you belong to will have fifty points deducted. Is there anything else you’ll be adding?
” Casting a witching spotlight over him, she lets it remain so he’ll be easily identified, then folds her arms, threatening him to say more.
The crowd goes silent, and a few students suck their teeth at the possibility of losing points.
Though I don’t understand the relevance–it must be serious.
I sit back, praying the ground will open and swallow me. Being buried under these beautiful flowers doesn’t seem half bad compared to the suffocating attention everyone is giving me. The mortal hoping to gain magic. A joke.
Realizing those in the stands are continuously glaring, I can feel their disgust weighing down on me like a blanket of hate, causing red blemishes to spread across my cheeks in embarrassment, and I deter, hoping to get through this without more humiliation.
Once my magic awakens, they can all kiss my ass.
Intense clapping breaks out as, one by one, students approach the podiums and reveal their orders. For the most part, it’s split between one and two orders, but no matter the case, fays in attendance all cheer.
“Shit,” someone in the stands shouts as Ryan finally has his turn.
Stepping onto the elongated stage, he is greeted by a call of surrounding silence.
He stands in front of the black flame, and nothing happens.
Next, he struts towards the white flame, and it increases rapidly, towering above and wrapping around him like a small tornado before dispersing just as fast.
Spellbinding, the entire process is amazing.
Flames coming to life and embracing you in a hug…
A furious hug…Covering you entirely…And probably hot as hell.
Shit, if I’m not fay, will that kill me?
Now this doesn’t seem like a good idea, and anxiety stretches comfortably within my stomach as sweat builds on my palms.
The parroting of claps brings me back as Ryan moves to the last two flames, but nothing happens with those either. “Congratulations on being part of House Life, Ryan.” Rebecca calls out. “House Life will be deducted fifty points.” He sulks away with his head low, and the light above him disperses.
“Shit-list, Ryan,” the same previous voice yells again. Who was that?
More students prance upon stage, taking their turn. Now halfway through, a sizable female makes her way up with fiery red hair dancing as if made of wildfire.
Standing before the black flame, it engulfs her immediately. Next, the white flame–nothing. Then green wraps around her much like the black one, and the crowd holds a breath, whispers murmuring amongst the masses.
She stands before the red flame, confidence awakening a smile as everyone wants to see her become the first to claim more than two orders. Her arm stretches–Controlling…Ordering…Manifesting…Enticing.
It explodes like a perfectly timed bomb, and the crowd erupts in celebration. We all witness the flame change shapes, turning animalistic in a way. She is the first to receive three orders, and she struts off to determine the House she’ll belong to.
“Ashlyn,” Rebecca calls, interrupting her journey, “no need in going through the trials. It’s clear your fire order is stronger, thus I’m placing you in House Fire.” Magic shoots towards the sky like fireworks from a small group seated behind our Assistant Dean.
I sit, impatient for my turn, letting myself dream of claiming just one order and a future dedicated to the House I’ll be placed. Contemplating the many uses of each order, another round of applause steals my thoughts, and I glance over those seated within the stands.
Alise is here. My gaze stops on hers. She inconspicuously waves, giving a timid smile, and I return one of my own before moving on. I guess everyone did assemble tonight.
I continue sweeping over the masses, stopping once I see Angie and Ethan sitting beside one another. Angie chats up Ethan, and I’m not surprised he is ignoring her. Instead, his scowl is locked on me. Harsh…Anxious…Transfixed…Eager.
My cheeks brighten with heat as I fidget, trying to avert my gaze. He hates me enough to want me dead, yet there is no escaping him. Like some twisted game of fate causing the two of us to clash.
Twirling my thumbs, I look to my feet, praying this antsy sensation will die, not knowing how much anticipation I can continue enduring.
But something mystical takes shape. Between my feet, a single rose blooms from the soil.
Red petals extend wider than the previous roses, and it glimmers with a soft glow .
I pull it from its roots, twirling the delicate gift between my thumb and index finger. It doesn’t take long to find its creator, sitting deeply atop the stands. Raine smirks, gesturing a small head bow and igniting a flame of my own, burning away all other emotions.
“Thank you,” I mouth, hoping he can read lips from a distance. Flutters tickle at my stomach, and I try hiding my smile, refusing to yield.
“Get up there,” Angie yells. Despite her out of range position, her voice is clear, kind, and demanding. A rushed glance discovers Ethan eyeing Raine with a level of disdain unlike anything I’ve witnessed, and I have to wonder what the hell his problem is.
I stand, returning my attention to Rebecca whose glare is piercing a hole into my skull. She waves me forward, and hesitation finds a seat in the back, allowing nervousness a chance to drive.
Finally, thank God. You got this, Kyra. It’s my best attempt at smothering any possible outcome for setting myself ablaze. My hands rub down the dress’s glittering fabric, and Ethan’s rude advice tumbles across my thoughts.
“Remain calm. That’s easier said than done, asshole,” I whisper into the stale air and give him an eye roll, sliding the rose’s stem into a space above my left breast, between the fabric and my skin, and embark to the front.
The crowd grows silent as I ascend the stairs.
“It’ll be okay, just stand in front of each one, and let your magic awaken,” Rebecca advises.
Nodding, I move in front of the black flame whilst gently caressing Angie’s gifted necklace.
I’m not sure what it does, but I’m hoping it gives a clue as to what my order or House will be.
A few seconds pass, and the flame begins to dance, identical to Ashlyn’s. Nervous, I hold a deep breath, waiting for it to engulf me.
It goes out. Not even an ember remains.
My brows pinch, and I retract a step, squeezing my necklace firmly.
The crowd gasps, including me, and dread weighs in my chest as I move to the next one.
Please tell me that was a fluke. But before fully approaching it, the white flame snuffs out as well.
My legs move briskly to the next–and the one after that–but like the previous two, both flames snuff upon my approach.
I glance at Rebecca, whose mouth is gaped in shock, practically announcing how fucked I am.