The Sunless City

One

Vanessa Arden

I was afraid to look at my grade card.

It remains folded up, tucked into the pouch of my purse, held in place by my hand. I kept thinking it might fall out, if I didn't stabilize it.

Throughout the Grand Hall, eager students hustle back and forth, some celebrating the start of summer, others biting their nails, staring daggers at the report card.

I still hadn't mustered the courage to peek at my own.

Instead I busy myself with emptying whatever remains of my locker, the door printed with a half-moon symbol. The drawing served as a way to sort the thousands of us, so it made it less pressuring on the professors to identify our covens.

There were six, the Lunar Coven, which was my own. We specialized in studying lunar phases, and harnessing the moon's power to channel as our own. Often such witches were distinguished by deep purple clothes, oversized pointed hats embroidered with constellations.

Next came the Divination and Music Covens, the former having connections with the spirit world and adorned in a deep red, while the latter dressed more freely in whites or beiges, they manipulated sound waves to perform harmonic lullabies. Such songs were normally used to soothe particularly orny newborns.

The Sea Coven was the one I knew the least about, as they inhabited the widely unexplored ocean, dwelling so far beneath the surface I couldn't spot them from the cliff side. With their long tails that came in a plethora of polychromatic colors, they were usually pinpointed wearing various shades of blue. Mother educated me on the fact that they have the ability to control the weather, so best be on their good side.

There weren't many of them left.

The largest Coven was that of the Green witches, who were highly experienced in herbalism and botany. They were regularly harvesters and grew our crop, some only practiced potion brewing, though. Some preferred to dress in deep green, while others enjoyed the occasional husky brown. Most wore straw hats to shield their freckled noses from a sunburn.

Finally came the Solar Coven, who were similar to the Lunar no matter what the professors say. While we gain knowledge of the moon, they contrast that by learning of the sun. Our powers differentiate, as the anchor for our magic are polar opposites. While we wear the colors of midnight, they are often seen in splatters of orange and yellow.

Most of them are incredibly pretentious and see themselves to be of higher importance, favored by The Academy, merely because they use their magic to supply electricity. Lunar and Solar witches seem to repel each other at The Academy, always scowling at one another in the halls. We were enemies, if that's the most straightforward way to say it.

Not that it mattered much to me.

Despite not being spoken of much, there officially was still another coven. The Corrupted Coven. These witches were outcasts, shunned from society and sent to inhabit a desolate island far off the Oakenvale coast. They were oddballs, lacking the ability to study in one specific form of magic. Normally their powers were a jumble of things, dubbed to be useless to the succession rate of Oakenvale.

We were forbidden to speak of Corrupted witches.

"Hey Vanessa," a flash of green catches my eye as a snow haired girl nudges my elbow with her own. "What score did you get in Ms. Madlock's transfiguration class? She gave me an eighty-nine! Which I mean, it's a passing score but still!" Sage Winslow, the closest thing I had to friend, rambled as she waved the crinkled, handwritten document in my face.