Toddy was two benches in front of me and waved quickly, giving me a lewd gesture and a wink that told me she had had an excellent night. I pulled my lips into my mouth to hide my smile and shook my head.
One bench away and to the left, I saw Rafi's blonde head turned my way within my peripheral vision, but refused to so much as glance at him. There was no need to open the flood gate of emotion that would come with any look he gave me. I turned my back on them, ignoring the brief thought that the rabbit was likely in his pocket.
The music finished its quick introduction of fanfare and the hundreds gathered hushed to hear what she had to say. My hands trembled as I fussed with the clasp of the necklace, working to put it on to keep myself from focusing on the cloying nerves that choked my throat.
"Welcome, welcome! Friends, graduates, family, and current students! This is our One Hundred and Fifteenth Testing Day and will see a new generation of adept and studious witches and warlocks receive their designations to embark on their life's journey. As this ceremony is held every three years, it will include this year's graduates as well as those who finished their schooling last year and the year prior. Regardless of the title awarded to the graduate, success is found in the character and disposition of the witch or warlock, because it is only with self-discipline, integrity, and hard work that any magic can truly reach its full potential. No designation is more or less valuable than another.
"Many of you remember your own Testing Day and we kindly ask that conversations and applause be held until the end of the ceremony. For those that have not attended, we will proceed to summon a graduate to the stage by surname alphabetically. They will cleanse their hands before the Testing Bell is rung, calling the nature and spirit of the graduate's inner magic to the surface. Our fae professor, Rellatora, will act as witness as I read the designation and confirm. The student shall then receive their diploma and take their first steps toward their future.
"Additionally, as is tradition, we will have an honored guest in attendance. At this time, I ask all to rise for His Majesty, High King Kinnut."
Most of the onlookers were already standing, but the section for parents and those who had paid for seating all leapt to their feet. It was rare to hear that Kinnut had left his home, let alone see him in the flesh. On shaking knees, I gripped my dress and prepared myself, unable to control the way my pulse picked up with stress.
At the right side of the stage, the air began to change color. There was really no other way to describe the phenomenon other than a condensation of light that formed into a vertical slit as spatial reality folded itself. Somewhere, a Portaler was making a path to the stage with the careful skill of one who could fold paper into tiny creatures. As the opening widened, I only briefly got a glance of a stone-lined path and large, ancient trees before figures moved forward.
The Portaler entered first, my eyes instantly drawn to the shocking and fiery red of his hair that stood straight up as if he had been electrocuted. I did not know if it was the static of a portal that swept it skyward or if he did it intentionally. His features were sharp and feline, nose nearly pointed at the tip, with thin lips, and keen eyes in a disconcertingly rusty shade of brown. He made a cursory sweep of the area before shifting his body sideways to bade Kinnut forward.
While the Portaler wore a black tailcoat with a high collar and silver buttons down the front, cuffs folded neatly at his wrists, the King wore a shimmery vest over a crisp, white shirt, his cloak fur-lined with something gray. A thin, silver circlet in the same shade as the embroidery of the cape and vest, sat upon his head.
Kinnut's hair was gray upon first glance, but it was not due to age. In fact, it could have been an odd shade of blonde, though it did not seem to fit any real color. A pair of icy, silver eyes moved over the crowd, taking in every living being within his radius, cataloging emotions, health, and power. He did not look directly at me, but it still felt as if he had boldly stared, the sensation sending chills up my spine.
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The Wright (Friday Updates)
Roman d'amourFULL STORY ON PATREON- COMPLETED There are many types of witches and warlocks with varying skills and abilities in Gandheim. Being a Portaler, Healer, or Maganer will guarantee success, but the greatest of all are the Soul Wrights. With the ability...