Chapter 1 #5
It was obvious who was from inside the wall and who wasn’t.
Those from inside wore nicer, newer clothes, the style was colorful, and many of them had shiny gold necklaces or bracelets, but that wasn’t the biggest tell.
Those of us from villages outside didn’t gather together.
I walked more slowly to take in my new surroundings, skin prickling at what I found.
The initiates from Nighthaven peered at me—the odd girl from Lothleton.
The outsider, unwanted here. It wasn’t even the way they looked at me.
I could feel it, like I was diseased and would infect them.
“I’ll be a mage. Everyone in my family is,” a girl with jet-black hair and silver eyes said to her friend with bright red hair. They both wore plum purple and had shiny black shoes. It was then that I noticed just how dirty my own boots were. I’d worn them every day for two years, and it showed.
My father’s words lingered like a bad dream. If I was chosen, I’d leave my family and everything I knew to live and fight among these people who clearly didn’t like me.
Ahead of me, a tall, skinny, copper-haired boy with freckles looked over his shoulder and gave me the first smile I’d received since I’d set foot off the wagon.
He wore a light-green tunic with a black belt and pants and had small gold hoops in his earlobes.
His boots didn’t have a wrinkle or a scuff.
City boy, I decided. “What guild do you hope to join? Woah, your eyes are... different. Were you born like that? I mean, with one blue and the other black?”
I clenched my teeth. No, I wasn’t born with the black eye. It had been so long since I’d met anyone new, I forgot how people reacted. I was used to stares, but the comments faded from people in Neverglade years ago.
“Um, I don’t know which guild.” I glanced around for Kace once more. Just seeing him would give me some semblance of comfort, but there were thousands of people gathered and finding him seemed impossible. I’d never felt more alone.
“Don’t talk about the eyes, understood,” he said with almost a laugh.
We descended a set of long stone steps into a circular arena. Groups of four for each guild in their representative uniforms waited on a platform, and behind them hung a massive tapestry bearing all four guild colors and symbols.
The rest of us initiate hopefuls started forming lines in rows in front of them.
The crowd of at least two thousand sat in a half-circle around us on stone benches.
Judging by their colorful attire, fashionable rather than practical, more than half the attendees were from inside the wall.
No one from my village would wear bright yellow.
It was too attractive to predators—animal, vampire, and human alike.
Another thing I noticed was that the women’s hairstyles were more extravagant, with curls and braids, and they wore dark eye makeup.
Some even had swirling painted gold symbols along their arms and the tops of their hands.
The same freckled boy beside me nudged my shoulder. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about which guild you’d join. Are you ducai?”
“Mage if I had magic, or a scholar. But I’m not ducai.”
“Most of you outside the wall aren’t,” he said with a shrug.
“It runs in the blood, but sometimes it skips a person in a family or someone from outside is the first. I’ll pass the test, but if I didn’t, my family would probably disown me and send me to Lothleton with you. What’s it like out there anyway?”
I lifted a shoulder and turned away. It was clear what he thought of where I was from, and I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.
“I hear it’s freeing. I’ve only seen drawings of a waterfall, and I’ve always wanted to explore Dragonback Mountain. Have you been there?”
I turned. Was he actually more curious than condescending?
“It’s too far from my village, but I’ve always wanted to go there too.”
“I can’t wait to go out. Nighthaven residents can’t leave until we are officially declared ducai and go through training.
I’ll probably be a scholar like my parents.
” He squeezed his own skinny bicep. “I’m not built for physical fighting, unfortunately, although I am faster and stronger than you humans. Have you ever met a ducai?”
“Not until today.”
The first initiate hopeful was called up onto the light stone platform and handed a silver goblet. He brought it to his mouth and drank. My heart sank.
“What is the goblet for? Don’t we run and lift heavy things for the tests?” That’s what Kace and my brother Ivarr had told me.
“That’s the old way. See that woman there?
” He pointed at an old bent woman in a black hooded cloak and a staff with the skulls of small animals hanging from the tip of it.
“She will give you the cup. You will drink from it. If you are ducai, she will know. The mages came up with this two years ago when they suspected people from outside were hiding their abilities. Those of us in Nighthaven think of it as an honor, but not everyone in Lothleton does. Why is that?”
My mouth was dry as dirt. My entire plan was to not show them how fast I could move. “Maybe because you leave us outside to be hunted and killed.”
He stared at me as if that was the first time he’d ever heard that.
The blonde with the knotted hair turned and glared at us. “Shut up. I can’t hear what they’re saying with you two yapping like dogs.”
I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. She needed to be popped in the mouth.
One by one, we were called forward. No one from outside the wall had been declared ducai yet, they’d all been sent left to rejoin their families.
Some appeared disappointed, while others were relieved.
Almost all of the initiates from inside the wall were sent to join one of the guilds, and their families cheered.
The few that weren’t were devastated. A girl cried and ran off stage.
One boy even tried to stab himself in the gut, but a warrior stopped him.
The difference in attitude was jarring. As my turn drew closer, I searched for my father and spotted him the tenth row up. I wanted to vomit, but he gave me a nod and a reassuring smile.
The blonde approached the old woman. She drank from the cup and after a moment was sent to the right, which I’d learned meant she was going on to another test.
The group of four mages whispered amongst each other as she passed them. The scholars appeared to be scribbling notes. One of the warriors nodded at her; with the bow on her back and war paint on her face, I assumed that’s where she’d go.
The assassins, three men and one woman dressed in all black, faces and heads covered except for an opening across their eyes, didn’t break from their statuesque stances: hands behind their backs, feet shoulder width apart, chests out.
As with all the initiates before her, they paid her no mind at all when she passed by.
Either they were selective or they didn’t like to give away their interest in an initiate.
The freckled boy was called forward. When did I become next? Sweat beaded on my lower back. Nausea crawled up my throat. He went right—ducai.
“Come forward, girl,” the old woman crooned. My feet felt heavier with each step up the platform.
The assassin man on the far left, the tallest of the four, almost seemed bored.
The bluest eyes I’d ever seen kept looking up at the sky like he was waiting for this to be over, until he tilted his head to the man on his right; his jaw moved ever so slightly under the black fabric.
I was oddly curious about what he was saying.
None of the assassins had so much as moved until that moment, let alone spoke.
Then he dropped his gaze to mine.
My spine tingled when our eyes met, the hairs on the back of my neck rose, and an involuntary shudder sent chill bumps down my arms. I tore my gaze away from him.
Everything around me seemed to fade as I focused on the rodent and bird skulls dangling from the old crone’s staff. The man beside her in a plum robe handed me the goblet. I held the heavy metal in my hands but hesitated to drink.
This moment could change my life forever.
The old woman’s clouded brown eyes bore into me. Half her teeth were missing. The shine on the raven feathers tied at the end of her twin braids had me wondering if the feathers once belonged to one of those skulls.
Her staff hit the ground with a crack, knocking the creepy skulls together. “Drink.”
The blue-eyed assassin still watched me intently. He made me even more nervous.
I quickly took a sip. It was sweet and thick, almost like honey.
I blinked several times, everything went shockingly bright as if I had stared straight at the sun, my ears rang, then focus returned, but the world a moment ago seemed dull compared to now.
Colors were brighter. The lines and spots on the old woman’s face deepened and sharpened.
I heard the pinging of a hammer somewhere far away, the birds chirping in the trees, individual conversations among the crowd rather than background chatter.
The woman grabbed my chin with her knobby fingers and inspected my face. She ground her rotten teeth, then smiled. “Ducai!”