The Sunless City

Six

Sage Winslow

No matter what the newbies at The Academy say, I can testify that bales of hay are, in matter of fact, extremely heavy.

Perhaps my building frustration due to the humidity that makes my hair frizzy does not help, but I am feeling particularly unmotivated today.

Unfortunately for me, it is the final day before summer school starts, which means extra preparations need to be made. Long story short, it is just an additional grueling, hot work day for us Green witches.

Slipping off my brown work gloves, I dab my wrist on my forehead, wiping off the accumulating sweat. Huffing, I brush the dirt off my skirt, frowning when it leaves behind a muddy smudge. Other Green witches chat along happily on their estates, not bothering with avoiding grass stains and mud.

I glower, gathering what I've been able to dig up and setting it in a wicker basket. Across the vast horizon of flat fields and occasional woodland, The Academy towered over everything else, the rooftops rising above the clouds for those in the Solar and Lunar Covens. The greenhouse stands out among them, clear glass of the building riddled with vivid greens of various plants.

A measurable distance from where I stand now, several bubbling hot springs emit a thick steam, furls of smoke billowing in the already warm air. Just beyond that rests a graveyard, headstones marking the memorials of witches long since forgotten by us students.

The graveyard is solely for the Divination Coven, dedicated to their practice that includes communication with spirits.

Each coven had a devoted strip of land, filled with a plethora of instruments to practice their talents. The Music Coven was one I didn't understand much. They were thought to be the lower class of witches, and with the Solar and Lunar Coven's histories, they were believed as the "upper class".

The rest were the middle class of Oakenvale, though the Sea Coven has been dwindling since I was born. The Academy was seen as a second home to many, most professors always there to treat students as equals. There, you could choose who you wanted to be, and achieve things no witches from long ago thought was possible.

Unless you are of a small group of people who were unable to accomplish such things.

The Corrupted Coven.

Their coven was sorrowing, really. The island nearly always seemed deserted, never inhabited, but they are there.

Tales of their cunning nature have been told as bedtime stories, meant to scare young children. Such witches were forbidden from ever entering Oakenvale again, as they are seen as bad luck, or plagues that taint our oasis.

Just like humans.

If anything is worse than Corrupted witches, it would be the Realm of Humans. For centuries, as long as the most ancient elders could remember, our two kingdoms have been forbidden from ever interacting with one another.

It is our most sacred rule.

Perhaps the only exception is Finn Declan, a half blood born to a human. I suspect the only reason he and his father alike have not been sentenced for treason is due to the role Mr. Declan played in The Academy's creation. It is their debt to him that has saved his family from exile.

Not a living soul apart from her husband knows what happened to Mrs. Declan, and why she disappeared almost two decades ago.

By the looks of it, it would stay that way for some time.

Beads of sweat glide down the small of my back as I blink at the sun, weary from a long day's worth of labor. Passing by the graveyard seems to only make things worse. The place had always seemed off putting, yet the Divination witches don't seem to mind at all.

As I stroll by, a glimpse of bright yellow catches my eye. There, watching as the leaves rustle over graves, was a Solar witch.

"Excuse me?" I call out to her. Her shoulders tensed up as she looked for whoever had caught her. "You do realize school is tomorrow, right?"

The Solar witch clutched her belongings tightly. "I-I,..." She stumbled over her words, looking for something to say. "I was, uh, just exploring the grounds. You see, it's my first tim-"

I raise my hand to cut off the rambling. "Calm down, I'm not patrolling for any trespassers. But, what are you doing? Standing alone. In a cemetery."

As if a switch flipped in her head, her gaze turns icy cool, an unnerving composure. The wicker basket that dangles from my wrist brushes the exposed skin of my thigh, leaving a scratch mark.

"I was looking at the great witches of our past. I apologize, as I didn't realize learning about our history was a crime." Her arms cross against her chest, amber eyes ablaze.

She is daring me to contradict her.

"Of course," I smile brightly, "Could I offer you a tour of the grounds? Seeing as it's your first visit at The Academy." Her nod is curt but polite, the jewels that hug her arms and legs clatter together when she walks.

"I'm Sage," the girl shakes my extended hand, but does not offer me her own name. Strange. Everything about her seems to be. "Well, as we make our way to the main entrance, to your left you can see the greenhouses." Her eyes linger on them for only a few seconds before staring back ahead.

"While we walk, is there any place in particular you'd like to see?"

"I would guess that somewhere in this place there would be a library, preferably one that has older textbooks." The request was odd, but I nodded.

"Of course. When we first walk in, it will be in the hallway to the right. Pretty hard to miss."

While the girl flips through book after book, each one more ancient compared to the last, I contemplate what she's after. People like her don't just stroll into a place like this, not without wanting something. Not without bringing trouble along with them.

Eventually, an orange clothed book piqued her interest, and as she read she absentmindedly touched the amulet that she wears with pride. My eyes widen, taking in the peculiar object.

One that I have seen before.