Flames of the Night

Chapter Two

The next two weeks were incredibly uneventful. School scores and family members came and went as expected, time passed and practical jokes were played with my twin and I. And then it all changed.

One of the maids gave me a letter, it was thick, heavy and fancy. Eggshell white and addressed to me in metallic copper, it looked like an envelope my grandmother would have sent. But my hands shook as I took it and the pit of my stomach churned. I turned it over so slowly that if I didn't know my heart was racing, I would have wondered if time was passing correctly.

On the back there was a wax seal, metallic gold and stamped with the signet I feared. My hands shook so hard and my throat suddenly couldn't swallow.

The paper fell from my fingers.

Mother caught it and ripped it open. She managed to get halfway through the first page before screaming excitedly in a very unladylike manner.

It was exactly what I feared, I was leaving home.

"I'm so proud of you!" Mother squealed. Her loud shout was only a fuzzed whisper in my ears. My eyes tried desperately to find proof that the shaking paper in my hands was a joke.

Again and again my eyes scanned the printed letters. There was nothing to show me that this was a fake. Other than the name in the top left corner, it looked exactly like the one my cousin Jeremy had gotten two years ago. Rocket Scientist Jeremy.

Through school, I had only ever been average, a C and B girl with only a couple of A's. So how had the outstanding application that I'd never submitted gotten me into the legendary Mystic Academy?

Black feather of the family, little miss average, I'd never gotten anywhere with my academic abilities before. I wasn't ever going to be smart enough to become a brain surgeon, rocket scientist, four star general or especially a successful mystic trainer.

"Come on, darling, I'll help you pack." Mother grabbed my upper arm with her claws, excitement taking her control for the moment. It was like in those wizard books one of my governesses had made me read, except that my family still loved their black feather, both my parents were alive, and I didn't want to go to the famous, magical school.

After ten minutes, Mother had somehow managed to make my carefully organized room look as if it didn't have a floor. Nor a bed, desk, wardrobe or even walls. Dad did always say Mother was magic.

Clothes and other items were floating everywhere around us. I cringed as a certain outfit was folded in front at me. "Mother, isn't the academy in the snow-capped mountains?"

"Yes, what about it?" Mother hummed, still not looking at me.

"So wouldn't you call clothes like those a little cold?"

"Aren't you going to continue your fighting?"

"Well, yes, but..." I stuttered, trying to think how I could reason with the whirlwind in my room.

"You wear less when you visit your grandparents."

I sighed, conceding. I did wear less at the enchanted winter castle my grandparents had.

But that was different. That was with family – and about thirteen hundred couriers and nobles, but who was counting?

"Now. Where did your riding gloves go..."