Chapter 23
Bang, bang, bang!
“Aurelia, get up. You have to go meet the arcana master!” Everett yelled through the door.
I sat up slowly, the sheets twisted and bunched up around my legs.
The morning sunlight was peeking through a small slit between the drawn curtains, casting a long golden streak across the room.
Even though I felt physically rested, a heaviness had settled over my chest. The past few days had been stressful and traumatizing.
First, there had been the disagreement between Everett and me regarding Sterling and his supposed treatment of the human women of this realm.
That evening, things had felt tense between us.
He had kept his distance from me, and the words we had shared were nothing more than cordial pleasantries.
I had thought about apologizing to Everett and trying to sort things out with him.
I had ultimately decided against it, because deep down I didn’t feel I had done anything that warranted an apology.
I had spoken from my experiences and knowledge, and if Everett didn’t like facing those facts, then that was his problem to deal with.
Then there was the horrific scene we had witnessed in the palace courtyard the morning after.
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Thalos’s bloody hand raised in victory, holding a heart he had just ripped out of a child’s chest. The look of righteousness and surety on King Julian’s face was only slightly more disgusting than Thalos’s proud smile.
Worst of all was the cold indifference on Sterling’s face.
The man I had lived with and shared myself with would have been horrified at that merciless display of brutality.
I did not recognize the man who had stood beside that platform, slowly clapping as ‘justice’ was delivered.
I had wanted nothing more than to walk over to him and slap him as hard as I possibly could across the face.
More violence wasn’t going to solve the problem, but it would have made me feel slightly better.
Everett banged on the door again.
“I’m up! Give me a minute!” I shouted at the impatient guardian.
Rubbing my eyes, I wondered how long Everett had been out there, trying to wake me up.
Guilt and embarrassment twinged within me as I thought about the last time he had tried to wake me up.
Letting go of a loud sigh, I threw the sheets off and tossed my legs over the side of the bed.
Little red hairs danced in the air, caught by the glistening sun.
I frowned at them as thoughts of Sterling entered my mind.
How badly I wished that he were still the small fox I had saved, instead of the ass he had become.
Planting my feet on the soft, plush rug beside the bed, I took a deep breath and forced myself up to get ready. Today was the first day I would meet with the arcana master—the very being who would decide my fate in this realm.
No pressure.
*
The arcana chamber sat at the edge of the palace grounds, on the other side of the royal garden.
The pathway leading up to the outbuilding had been inscribed with various strange shapes and runes that glowed as I walked over them.
The air around the chamber was silent and still, as if it existed in a separate space from everything else.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Everett whispered as a full-body shudder came over him.
“I’m sorry, are you talking to me now?” I asked, raising a brow.
“That was just an out-loud observation,” he retorted.
The door to the chamber opened, and a thin body appeared, dressed in a dark grey hooded robe that swallowed it whole, hiding any discernible features.
“Ah, she finally arrives,” they said with a flat, unimpressed tone.
I hadn’t even made it into the chamber yet, and I was already making a terrible first impression.
Following the arcana master, we entered a dark, mysterious hexagonal chamber.
The scent of burning sage hung heavily in the air, while near the domed ceiling, the walls were lined with black candles of varying sizes, stuck in place by ages of wax accumulation.
Solid-wood shelves lined one wall, covered in all manner of tomes, parchments, and coloured glass vessels filled with various liquids and solids.
A golden chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, runes inscribed upon it, as what appeared to be the night sky floated above it.
Across from me, at the back of the chamber, stood a tall, four-sided glass box.
Beside it was a large dark-wood desk littered with writing instruments, measuring implements, and fist-sized crystals.
“You may leave us now, Guardian. No need for you to stand around and gawk,” the arcana master uttered, dismissing Everett.
“It would be my pleasure,” Everett responded as he made his way out of the chamber door.
The arcana master stared at me for what felt like minutes before they finally spoke.
“You are the one who has come from the human realm. The one with the unknown arcana. I am supposed to find out what is special about you, assuming there is anything at all.” Their tone mirrored the apathy I had heard from so many others since entering this realm.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied, shifting my feet.
They waved their hands, ushering me forward. “Well, come over here, then, so I can take a look at you. I don’t have all day.”
Scoffing under my breath, I made my way over to the desk, where the wraithlike being stood.
Dread and unease filled me as I was about to find out just how mediocre I was.
I had grown so accustomed to hiding myself and my abilities from others that the thought of having them laid bare gave me anxiety.
All I had ever wanted back home was to proudly be myself, so why did the prospect of being seen for what I was scare me so much?
A thin, bony, pale hand reached out toward me. Startled, I took a step back.
“Give me your hand,” the robed being demanded.
Hesitantly I took a couple of steps forward.
Rough, cold, paper-thin skin wrapped around my hand and pulled me even closer, with more force than I’d thought this being was capable of.
Holding my hand out, the arcana master pulled a shiny object out of their robe pocket, and before I had time to register what was happening, I felt a hot, stinging sensation in my palm.
Deep red blood was welling in a large gash.
“Ow! Why the fuck did you do that?” I yelled, trying to pull my hand away—the arcana master’s grip was unyielding.
“Settle down, you little fool. It doesn’t hurt that much. Now hold it over this bowl. Hurry, before you make a mess everywhere.”
I took a deep breath, doing my best to steady my temper. “It does when you aren’t expecting it,” I snarled through gritted teeth.
I held my hand out over the small crystal bowl now at the edge of the desk—several drops of my blood pooled at the bottom.
The arcana master then held my palm up to their face and licked my wound.
I pulled my hand away with all my might, the master releasing their grip on me.
I looked at my blood-smeared palm and was shocked to see the deep gash start to close up.
“Where I come from, people ask permission before licking someone,” I snapped, with equal parts annoyance and disgust.
The arcana master shuffled to one of the shelves and grabbed a large jar.
“We are not where you are from, so it is irrelevant what you practise,” they said as they shambled back to the desk.
They immediately changed the subject. “This is called a blood-and-water rite. This is moon water, blessed by Nyxenia herself. By adding a few drops of your blood to this, we should be able to figure out if you have any arcanal powers. On the off chance that you do, we’ll also be able to figure out what element you are most proficient with.
” The arcana master grabbed another small crystal bowl, took off the lid of the jar, and scooped out some of the moon water.
The liquid had a slight glow, and glittery particles settled within it. The arcana master grabbed the bowl that contained my blood and slowly poured it into the moon water. We both stood there in uncomfortable silence for several moments, waiting for something to happen.
“How long does this usually take?”
The arcana master ignored my question as they continued to stare at the bowl, as if they were willing it to do something.
“Something is not right,” they mumbled to themselves.
They hurried over to the shelves and grabbed a few more bowls, then came back to the desk. They repeated the process a few more times, and each attempt ended with the same result as the first.
“Are you going to explain what is happening?” I finally asked, annoyed at the wall of silence I had endured throughout this stressful process.
Exasperated, they pulled back their large grey hood as they turned toward me.
I gasped in shock at the face of the being standing right before me.
Long strands of wispy white hair clung to the sides of their head.
Their cheeks were sunken so profoundly that their papery skin looked like it was about to tear. Two clouded eyes stared at me sternly.
“What are you?” they whispered, a question more for themselves than for me, as they reached out and placed a cold, bony hand on my cheek.
I flinched away from their touch. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
They stepped closer to me, as if to get a better look at me.
Grabbing hold of my arm with their other hand, they left only inches between our faces.
“When any being who possesses arcana adds their blood to moon water, it will turn one of four colours—blue, red, green, or white—indicating their elemental strength. Those who lack arcanal ability, their blood turns the water grey. Yours did neither. I have existed in this realm for almost three thousand years, and I have never seen the moon water react this way.”