Shadelings

chapter six

 Constance

How many hours has it been? I lost count after the end of the “A”s. It could have been days, six hours, five minutes-- I have no idea. I am just putting on the finishing touches to a sketch of Casanova in her cat form sitting in front of Patience, who is in a chair. It's not great, but at least one can tell what is trying to be conveyed.

“Ashlyn Cortchester,” the monotonous voice of the plump courier, whose unfortunate job it is to call names, echoes throughout the room. I look up from my drawing, pushing the half-finished bottle of vodka to the side. Ashlyn's exam isn't something I want to miss.

She enters the room, stepping up onto the wooden platform in front of us. It's only raised slightly from the concrete; it can't be called a proper stage. Spotlights shine harshly down on the platform, making Ashlyn's skin seem transparent. This is the first time I have seen her without her hoodie; in its place, she's wearing a black short-sleeved T-shirt with a bright yellow rubber duck on the front. Her pants and shoes are similar to before: dark sneakers, darkwash jeans. The talisman Noah and I had inspected a few days ago hangs around her neck. In the harsh light of the stage, her pale green eyes lose their color. Looking at Ashlyn in this light is like staring at a ghost.

She takes a breath and starts muttering quietly. The talisman begins to glow faintly, and Ashlyn begins to move her hands as if she's weaving a web. Slowly, the room we're in fades into a meadow. The sun shines in a bright blue sky, beating down on grass and the distant outline of a forest. Small animals wander around us. She continues to move her arms. Sounds and scents begin to flood into the illusion. I can feel the grass around the hem of my skirt.

Ashlyn moves her hands as if she's making a wave in water. A breeze picks up, the sky darkens. The animals perk up their ears, looking up at the darkening sky, and flee. Far away from us, a tornado sprouts from the sky, ripping up the ground. The temperature in the room drops from the storm. The tornado comes toward us and just before it reaches Ashlyn, it subsides.

Three people in T-shirts and jeans emerge from the dust left by the tornado. They look real, all except their faces. Features are there but blurred out.

“Ktsum p'voshin,” she says, motioning toward the figures. That's the spell I taught her! She actually listened to me. That's a welcome change to my life. The people explode and burn, just as the spell was made to do. A distant echo of screaming fills the illusion after the spell is done. Ashlyn's talisman glows brighter and her skin becomes paler. She shakes slightly and ends the spell. She looks exhausted.

Ashlyn takes a deep breath and says, “Uhm, I... Uhm...” She pauses, breathing again. She's obviously trying to relax enough to speak in front of us. “I-I know what you m-must think o-of when you see m-me. Hear my n-name. Just a n-ne-necro-m-mancer.” She squeezes her eyes shut, balling her hands into fists. She breathes once more and continues, “B-but I'm just fourteen. I've done nothing. But...” She trails off and looks away. As if she's having a conversation with herself, she nods. “But I'd like t-to d-do... something. Something good.”

She pauses, then adds in a small voice, “I just want to learn.” She casts her eyes downwards, whispering something to herself. The talisman's light fades out. Ashlyn tenses up, waiting for a response.

I glance over at the other heads. Even Olivia is awake for Ashlyn, which is surprising since she seems to not care for magic exams. There is a quiet murmuring between the courier and crusader head, then Patience stands up. I follow. The rest of the neutral and magic class heads (excluding the couriers, of course) rise from their seats.

“Alchemists offer.”

“Erasers offer.”

“Wardens offer.”