The Trials of Blackbriar Academy

by Olivia Ash

  “Follow us,” one says in a whisper.

  They lead me back to my room. As they gesture to the door, one says, “Dress quickly. Your next trial is only moments away.” Although the words are spoken in a whisper again, I know it’s the other person that speaks. The pitch is slightly different.

  I nod and quickly dash through the door, closing it behind me.

  Jesse is sitting on the edge of his bed and he looks like he’s been through hell.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Where have you been?” he asks. He clears his throat and adds, “I was worried.”

  “Trial.” I pull a fresh set of clothes from the closet and dash into the bathroom to get ready.

  Jesse is at the door, and he taps on it lightly before he asks, “They do trials in the middle of the night?”

  I sigh. “Apparently so.”

  “Brutal.”

  “That’s one word for it.” I don’t say anymore as I finish peeling off my pajamas and slip into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I don’t know what this next trial has in store, and I don’t want to be in the academy’s uniform in case it’s anything close to what the last one was.

  I analyze my arm and hiss as I touch it. Quickly, I grab a rag and soak it in cool water before gently dabbing the cut on my arm to clear out the debris. Once I finish, I run a brush through my hair and pull it back, so my hair doesn’t get snagged.

  “Are you okay?” he asks through the door, and I feel my magic surge with that cool sensation I get when I’m near him.

  “I’m fine. Tired. But I’ll be okay.” I toss open the door to find him leaning against the wall opposite of the bathroom door, and I’m caught off guard. Heart hammering in my chest because I wasn’t expecting him to be so freaking close.

  Damn him for being hot on top of it.

  “I have to go to another one. I’ll see you later,” I say.

  He smiles. “Promise?”

  I laugh under my breath. “Promise.”

  I turn to walk out, and he says, “Damn woman, I love watching you leave.”

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. Jesse just does that to me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I’m led to the arena. I know the way well, but the escorts, who haven’t said a word to me since leading me to my room, seem very focused on taking their time and making the trip last longer. Which doesn’t bode well for my already exhausted self. I just want to get this trial done.

  The doors open as we finally reach the arena. The two escorts turn and nod to me as they gesture for me to walk in.

  I do. The moment the doors shut, the lights in the room cut off. In the center of the room, directly in front of me, a light turns on, shining down from the endless expanse of darkness above on Lady Alene.

  “Come to me, Wren,” she says. And I slowly step forward.

  I don’t know what to expect, but since this to be my third trial, anything is possible. Especially if the first two are anything to judge by.

  As I stop right in front of the statue, she looks to me and smiles. “This is your third trial, Wren. A test of your mental strength. However, it doesn’t reflect the knowledge you hold. It’s a bit deeper.”

  I sigh heavily and say, “All right, I’m ready. What do I have to do?”

  “Give me your hand,” she says. I lift my left hand and she shakes her head. “The other one.”

  I place the palm of my right hand over hers, and my conduit turns to dust. A gasp rushes from my lips, echoing into the depths of the ink-filled room. My stomach churns as I realize that I’d have to beat this third trial without my conduit. Does someone know the truth about me? Is this meant to expose me?

  “Why did you do that?” I ask, meeting Lady Alene’s gaze. I force myself to remain calm despite feeling my heart pound in my chest.

  “Fears must be faced,” she states matter-of-factly. “And I see yours…”

  She disappears, leaving me in the room alone. I’m starting to panic. I can’t do a trial without magic so far, and I have no idea who is watching, if anyone. If I do magic without a conduit…

  My thoughts are interrupted by a series of loud clicks and pops.

  Whispers soon replace the other sounds as I’m surrounded by rushing images. They rapidly swirl around me. My breaths come short and my palms sweat as my magic pulses through me. I’m in fight or flight mode, and I don’t know what to do.

  The image stills, settling on a young girl, no older than I am now, and she is using magic without a conduit. Power flares from her hands as she manipulates the world around her. The more she does it, the more seductive it becomes, and she cannot stop. As she finishes her work, a thin black cloud surrounds her. The image fades. Soon, more shuffle around me in an endless sea of blurring shapes and colors.

  Once again, the image settles on the same girl. But now she is older, and the black cloud has grown around her. It’s much larger and much darker. The color in her eyes has dulled. She’s trying to do magic again. As she casts, something happens to her that I can’t see. She cringes and doubles over as though she is in an immense amount of pain. She cries out, though I can’t hear her.

  I stand helpless, watching as the last of the light within her disappears and she stands soulless. I nearly tremble when her face takes on a semblance to my own, warning me that this could be my fate.

  “This is what it means to be a shadow mage,” a voice speaks from the dark, seeming as though it comes from all directions. It’s deep, and foreboding.

  I shake my head. “That’s not me.”

  The image shifts to the girl. She causes destruction and leaves everything she touches in ruins. People flee her presence in fear, but she doesn’t seem to care, almost as if she doesn’t have a heart anymore.

  The voice speaks again, “Shadow mages aren’t suffered to live.”

  The image changes to show the girl being cornered by a group of other mages. She screams and tries to fight them off, but in the end, she is killed.

  “No,” I mutter, shaking my head and trying to step back from the image. But no matter how far away I try to get from the image, it follows me.

  “They are too dangerous and unhinged…” the voice grows louder.

  “That is not me!” I shout to the darkness. “This won’t be me…” my voice comes out softer.

  “Their magic is corruptive and raw, burning away the soul to leave a shell of who they used to be.”

  That voice is even louder now, and it surrounds me, pressing on me, weighing me down. My legs shake, and I struggle to stay on my feet.

  “I don’t want to cause pain,” I say. “I have endured pain most of my life, and that is the last thing I want to inflict on everyone around me.”

  A dark, whispering voice, much like my own says into my ear, “But they deserve it…”

  “No!” My voice reverberates around me.

  A scene unfolds before me—the trolls beating me and robbing me of my freedom, laughing at my pain as they land blows. Anger and humiliation rise within me at the sight. The scene fades and a group of mages, led by Anderson, corner me. Their hands are ablaze with magic and their intent is clear in their expressions. “It’s either you or them…they deserve it,” the voice affirms.

  It then shows me a scene where I fight back against my assailants, without a conduit. I kick their asses, reducing them to ashes.

  I know I wouldn’t hesitate to defend myself, but unleashing my magic without a conduit is not the way. “No, not like that.”

  “Yes!” my twisted voice whispers into my other ear.

  My arms and legs tremble as my stomach twists into knots. The heavy weight of the voices’ accusations increases, and I refuse to fall to my knees. I won’t give in and I damn sure will not give up. “I don’t care. I won’t go dark.”

  “You are dark,” voices, surrounding me, chant around me. “You are dark.”

  “No, I am not!” My hands start to glow.

  But the voices continue.
<
br />   I won’t give them the satisfaction. Regardless of what the voices say. I know in my heart, there is an explanation for me being able to use magic without a conduit. I will find it.

  I have to.

  Despite my resolve, the voices continue. I simply shake my head and say, “You’re wrong.”

  The images and voices cease all at once. The door opens, shining a wedge of light into the darkened room. Gideon steps into view and approaches me. My heart sinks into my stomach and my lungs fail to take in air as he levels his gaze on me and approaches with smooth steady steps.

  The worst possible outcomes run through my mind in a torrent of thoughts. Because I know, as the headmaster, he is going to lock me away.

  I look around him and wonder if I can make it to the edge of the island before getting caught. Because right now, despite how my magic surges stronger with each step he makes toward me, it’s about self-preservation.

  Gideon’s expression changes from complacent to concerned. He holds up his hands, and I flinch.

  “Relax, Wren. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I’ve heard that before. The trolls were great at that. Fill me up with false hope only to shatter that for their kicks.

  “I know you aren’t going dark. There will be thousands who will disagree with us, but I’ve seen your heart and know beyond a doubt you are the furthest thing from a shadow mage.”

  His words start to register, which creates a large sense of questioning in me. I don’t know what to say. Instead, I just stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

  “Keep this secret from everyone. I will do the same. Once you are through the trials, I will help you learn to control it. We will find a way, Wren. You don’t have to worry.”

  I stare into his beautiful bright blue-green eyes and see all the truth that is there. He really does want to help me. The breath caught in my lungs is released in a loud whoosh as I throw my arms around him. My body implodes with arousal and I fight that back as the buzzing sensation wars with my relief.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Gideon wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him. It’s gentle and sweet, and I feel safe for the first time in forever, it seems.

  The realization that we are standing in the middle of the arena, where anyone could happen upon us, dawns on me and I pull away. Gideon’s arms refuse to let me go completely as his eyes search mine for something. My gaze drifts to his lips and that seems to be all the invitation that is needed. He presses his mouth to mine and squeezes me to him.

  Heat pulsates through my core and my body is overcome with desire. His mouth tastes like sweet mint and I relish in the way it feels to kiss him. We slowly break away from the kiss, panting. I feel the thickness of his erection pressed against my waist and fight myself to not go further.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you,” he says, voice deep and almost slurred.

  I smile. Because words are not a strong suit for this moment, and I would just end up tripping over them anyway.

  He plants a single kiss to the top of my head before releasing me. “Go get some sleep. I’ll see what I can find and let you know as soon as I have something solid.”

  I nod, lightheaded.

  He smiles, making my knees weak. Damn him.

  “Sleep well, Wren.”

  “Thank you.” I sigh softly and pull away from him, though my body screams at me to let him hold me for just a little while longer.

  I’m in a daze as I traverse the halls lost in my thoughts. Not only does Lady Alene know of my ability to use magic without a conduit, but so does Gideon. And wow, that man can freaking kiss!

  I stifle a giggle as my thoughts return to what happened in the trial. Gideon is going to help me with what he can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do my part and research in the library.

  Before long, I’m back in my room. Jesse looks up and he seems puzzled. But I ignore the look long enough to see that my conduit rests on my pillow. I grab it and slip it on.

  “Holy shit, Wren. You went through a trial without a conduit?” he asks.

  I settle my gaze on him. He can’t know. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But definitely not right now.

  He persists though. “How did you do it?”

  I really don’t know what to tell him. But I can’t ignore him either. We live together, and Jesse has proven to me he will never leave well enough alone. Then I recall the rule of the trials for initiates.

  “We’re not supposed to talk about that, remember?” I lay down on the bed and I’m barely able to keep my eyes open any longer.

  “Right,” he says. But the look in his eyes is a mix of awe and wariness. That look cuts into me. I don’t want to lose him. He’s grown on me in the time I’ve been here. Though I have never been one to form attachments, I know deep, deep down, I’m quickly becoming attached to him.

  But the look he just gave has me feeling like things are going to change between us.

  I huff out a breath through my nose and close my eyes, shoving the pain in my chest deep, deep down so I can sleep and move on in life.

  Because that’s what I do. I don’t let pain take over me. I deal with it and move on.

  There isn’t any other choice.

  My only comfort is that at least Gideon knows and accepts me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In the training circle, underneath the evening sky, I can’t help but notice that something is… different… with Soren.

  Though I can’t quite place how. He seems—dare I say—kinder.

  Not by much, mind you. He’s still an ass.

  The energy between us buzzes with sexual need, and my magic burns through me with being so close to him. It’s a lot to handle, and I struggle to maintain my focus through a multitude of thoughts of his body intertwined with mine. The tension between us, fueled by my sexual fantasizing, is stronger. So much so that I wonder if he can feel it too. Or does he shove the idea down so far that the sensation is only a fleeting moment, if anything at all?

  Before today, I wouldn’t have thought that possible. I would chalk it up to a girl with an overdose of pheromones and call it a day. But now? I feel a bit thrown off.

  Regardless, none of this makes sense. For the most part, he is rather pleasant to be around—so far. He’s not hateful toward me unless I try to take his arm off with a stray blast of magic. Then he’s fuming and staring daggers again, slinging insults. It’s almost as if he can tolerate me now.

  I wonder if Gideon had another chat with him, or maybe after we had our more pleasant training session, he’s decided to ease up. Whatever it is, something has changed. And it seems like for the most part, things have turned in a better direction for us.

  We just finished with some magic drills and are moving onto sparring. As he presses his body against me, I become lightheaded. His body is so very close to mine and warm, and his smell is intoxicating.

  Though I didn’t think it was possible to attack within such a narrow opening, he does. I block his attack. But just barely.

  “Very good. You’re a quick learner,” he says. “You’re progressing much faster than I originally thought you would.”

  I smile. “Thanks… I think.”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “You think?”

  I smack him on his arm as we share in a chuckle. Not bad for a guy that would kill me soon as he looked at me less than a week ago.

  We share chemistry, sure. And my magic definitely reacts to him. But he has acted like the last thing he wants is to be near me since the day I met him, and now… now the training is intense. Electric. It’s a puzzling thing for me to figure out. This is a sudden and new change in things between us. Not that I’m complaining. I rather like this side of him.

  “Let’s work on your balance.” He breaks away from me and squats into a horse stance about five feet away with both his arms squared with his knees and his hands held palm out toward me. “Firm stance means you will be harder to take down, like
so.” He gestures with a nod and I lower myself into what I feel is the same position.

  “Good. Think I can knock you over?” he asks.

  I shrug. But I also think, with him… he probably could knock me over as he seems to have a knack at pointing out my weaker abilities. And I don’t mind finding those out and making them stronger myself. So, I level my gaze on his, forcing myself not to get caught up in the sea of light green eyes that make me feel like he can see right into my soul, see my darkest secrets, and see my deepest desires.

  His lips quirk up into a dangerous grin. “Care to make a wager?” he leaves the horse stance and approaches me.

  “Do I have a choice?” I ask.

  He pauses and, after a brief moment, nods to himself. “Good point. If I can push you over, you have to answer one question of mine. If I can’t, I’ll answer one of yours.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He firmly presses on my shoulders. I’m knocked off balance. My ass no sooner hits the ground and he is already diving into his first question.

  “What happened to your parents?”

  I stare up at the giant pillow-like clouds hovering in the evening sky. They darken to a steel grey color in areas, which promises rain within the next couple of days. The sight is a welcome distraction. Honestly, I don’t want to answer that question. It’s painful to talk about. However, I also don’t want to ruin this chance at keeping Soren talking to me like I’m an actual human being.

  After climbing to my feet, I re-enter my horse stance. “First of all, I never agreed to this wager. Second of all, this is a painful subject. Act like an ass, and I’m done.”

  He nods. Albeit not before a flash of thoughts rush behind his eyes, darkening their color. But like most things in this place, it’s so quick, I almost question the fact it happened at all.

  “My mother died when I was fourteen. My dad disappeared shortly after.”

  “Then you went to live with the trolls?” he asks.