I raised my clenched fist and quickly rapped on the door three times. Silence hung in the air for multiple moments, waiting for a reply. A gentle rustling sounded from behind the door and moved slowly towards me. Eventually, it glided open silently, Drake’s smooth hand clutching the inside edge.
“You may enter, Raven,” the sorcerer bowed his head and announced, opening the door the rest of the way. I thanked him and walked in gradually, keeping my head high and staying alert.
Silver glittered on every table, artificial light from floating tufts of green fire dancing near the ceiling. There were ten bookshelves across the back wall, filled to the brim with books and spilling into piles on the floor. Some had arcane-like writing on their spines, but others seemed to be written in either the English of the Third Realm or Arhkanian, the language of the vampires.
Drake moved across the room to an elegant silver chair in the back left corner, picking up a black leather-bound notebook and a silver fountain pen. He motioned to another silver chair next to him, and I obliged and sat down. Then, he opened up the notebook to the first page – blank, very unlike my racing mind.
“Raven,” Drake began once the door had closed on its own, “have you ever noticed anything odd since you turned thirteen, such as things happening that shouldn’t be happening? Possibly magic-related things?”
I leaned back a little and thought on his question. “Not rea-,” I stopped. “Wait, there was a time in middle school.”
“What happened?” Drake inquired, making quick notes in the notebook.
“Well,” I began. “A guy in my class was always annoying the shit out of me and calling me stupid names because I always wore black. One day, I felt like I’d just had enough. I went home with hatred for him swirling and seething in my mind. I never stopped thinking about how I wanted him to suffer.” I paused. “The next day, in science class, he was sitting across the room from me. He started turning red – really, really red. Then, he collapsed on the floor and started spitting out blood. After that blood just poured out of his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. I couldn’t look away. I was so focused on him and wanting him to suffer as much as possible. I watched him die with a smile on my face.” I pictured all of the events as I told Drake, still feeling that pleasure as I watched the kid die once more in my mind.
Drake nodded, seeming to understand. “So your hatred seemed to set off your blood magic. How old were you at the time?”
“Thirteen. It was halfway through my eighth grade year.” Drake nodded again and wrote something down.
“Is that the only time it’s happened?”
I thought for a moment. “That’s the only time I can think of.”
Drake stood up. “Well, my apprentice, it is time to get you your robes, then. Follow me.” He headed out the door and I trailed behind. We went down two sets of spiral stairs, then stopped at a simple, dark wood door.
“Through here is the Robestera’s quarters. Her name is Perennia, and she crafts these robes by infusing your magic into a unique garment. The magic colors the robe to your own personal magic colors and allows only you to wear it.”
I gulped. “What about my blood magic? Won’t that show too?”
Drake nodded. “Yes it will, but you will not be wearing these robes before the Council until you are completely in control of your magic.”
