Wyvern Awakening (Mage Chronicles #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “This spell makes me invisible. How is this possible?” I ask, not believing I didn’t follow the mage’s instructions to the letter.

  “Yes, think about it, Astri. Now you can go anywhere you want completely undetected. You’ll have more of an advantage than any other shifter in the contest,” Lenin says.

  “Only if it works again and wasn’t just a fluke.” I clear my head and concentrate. Slowly, I start counting to ten and pray to Hommis, the god of the Eastern World, that I can fully embrace this new ability. Sweat drips down my face and my breathing becomes laboured. I start feeling prickly sensations around my body, sensing energy radiating from my dragon. It meets with my own and starts flowing throughout my system.

  I’ve lived in a human populated area since I was ten years old, and at times it came with its advantages. No one will sense anything out of the ordinary. I can shift at will using my energy to disappear.

  I stare at my hands, waiting with anticipation for something to happen. Minutes tick by and my fingers begin to vanish. I lift the mirror and touch my face, not seeing my reflection anymore. An unbelievable feeling quells the disappointment that filled me earlier on when I realised my scar hadn’t magically vanished.

  “Holy cow, Astri, it works, it works!” Lenin shouts, jumping up and down on the table and shaking his sister. “You’re controlling it. Can you bloody believe it, Jetli?”

  She smacks him in the face again and smiles at me. I repeat the same process a few more times, just to make sure this isn’t a one-time deal. After a few attempts, it looks like I failed to reverse my own blow-back spell but gained a new ability.

  “Yes, it’s great, but I still have to read about it. I don’t want to get stuck being invisible for the rest of my life,” I say and start putting everything back into my bag and use my foot to spread the salt around, masking the circle. I don’t need any trouble from the police right now and humans like complaining. I’m the only shifter living in this part of town; I need to exercise caution. “We need to get going. Richard is probably waiting for me at the house. It’s loan day.”

  I have to mask my face somehow when I compete in the first task of the contest; no one will recognise me. It’s the only way I can prove to the duke I’m an exceptionally skilled shifter without him seeing my scar.

  “Screw him, Astri! Now you can do what you want—go anywhere,” Lenin says, when I hang the bag over my arm. Maybe I just have to accept myself for who I am, scars and all, but the darkness; it quite possibly may have leached into my soul forever.

  Duke Jorgen won’t remember what happened all those years ago. I was only ten years old when he tried to kill me. Days later, after the surgery, I woke up in the hospital scared and alone–my face wrapped in bandages as I cried out in pain. The female doctor touched my hand and told me my parents were dead. I couldn’t remember what happened in that moment, except I wanted nothing more than to see my mother and father again—I needed their reassurance and love—but they were gone. Forever. My heart was shattered.

  I cried throughout the night when I realised most of my memories about my parents were gone too. After a few days, my aunt and uncle showed up. They told me I was going to have to stay with them from then on. Several months later, the dreams and nightmares began to keep me up at night.

  “This isn’t as simple as you think, Lenin. I still owe him money for rent. He didn’t have to care for me all those years ago. He could have just given me up to an orphanage,” I say, sighing loudly as we leave the old mill and head over to the house.

  It’s dark already, and the moon’s shining brightly over a clear, navy sky. The cars are speeding along on the roads and humans are rushing back to their cozy homes. No one has time to stop and chat in this part of town. Humans adore technology, and they don’t want to reverse back to simpler times. Most of them have TV, radios and smart phones. A lot of shifters and mages attempt to embrace the modern way of living too, but some don’t have faith in technological gadgets.

  It takes me over half an hour to get back to my aunt and uncle’s street. Richard’s an insurance broker, and he runs his own business. From what I understand, he’s doing well. My Aunt Beatrice goes to town almost every day. She goes shopping, meets her girlfriends for tea, and barks orders at her obedient maids. She leads a life of wealth and privilege, while looking down her nose at those less fortunate or different–myself included.

  I’ve only been out with them a few times over the past eleven years. They hired a nanny to walk me to school every day; they didn’t want to be seen with me on a regular basis. They pretended I was the daughter of one of their maids if anyone asked.

  “Astri, we don’t have to live with them anymore. Now we can start over somewhere else. Emilia’s right, you’ve given them enough money over the years,” Lenin says, buzzing near my ear.

  He says the same thing every month when loan day rolls around and I’m forced to pay Richard.

  “If I get selected, then we’ll stay in the castle. We both know, Lenin, I have no savings and no friends. Emilia’s apartment is too small. Besides, I would never put her in that kind of position. She’s my boss and I don’t need charity,” I say, wondering if my uncle will be unpleasant today as usual. Every month when I hand him the cash, he reminds me I should be more grateful, because I would’ve never survived without him. He knows my other family doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I have nowhere else to go.

  How could I possibly forget? He lords it over my head every month like a black fog.

  Anywhere would be better than living with my aunt and uncle, that’s for sure.

  I’m just about to cross the road when something hard hits me on the back of my head. I spin around, hearing someone shouting.

  “Hey, monster girl, go back to your own kind. You don’t belong here. Are you the boogie man who creeps up on children and scares them at night?” one voice says and I cringe. I will not acknowledge them.

  Voice two shouts, “No wonder you have no family. I bet they killed themselves rather than look at you. Even a blind boy wouldn’t fancy you!”

  I turn slowly to see two teenage boys standing behind me. One of them keeps tossing small stones up and down. My head hurts and I’ll probably have a bump tomorrow. A colourful soccer ball’s rolling over the road. A male driver stops his car abruptly and swears at the boys when he has to slam on the breaks to avoid running over the ball.

  “Astri, let us teach those little shits some manners. I can stab—”

  “No, Lenin, let’s just ignore them. They’re just kids,” I say, knowing this is how trouble always starts. Other humans are already staring at me, and I need to disappear. The boys continue to insult me, and I ignore them, but deep down I know they‘re right. I’m an outcast, a Wyvern creature that's not even considered a real dragon. Maybe I shouldn’t compete in the contest tomorrow. Other shifters will only laugh at me.

  Lenin keeps telling me to turn around and confront the teenagers, but I just want to go back to my basement. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.

  I feel inadequate and so small being around people who don’t know me. In some ways those boys are right–I don’t belong here, and I probably shouldn’t be around humans.

  However, when I think about my parents, I know if I give up, their deaths will be in vain and never avenged. I have to stop allowing what others say control the way I feel about myself.

  No matter what happens tomorrow, I need to find a way to avenge them.

  “All right, we’re here. Just don’t do anything silly this time around,” I say, approaching the back door. In the past, Lenin proved to be resourceful, and I just want to make sure he won’t do anything outrageous to my aunt and uncle if they start being unpleasant.

  “Fine, but I’m not going to just stand around and do nothing when he starts insulting you,” he says, folding his tiny hands over his chest. Jetli’s nodding, and I have no doubt she’ll stand by her brother.

  I just have to get it over and done
with, telling myself maybe sooner rather than later I can just move out. The house seems quiet. My aunt and uncle are most likely in the living room. The guests must have left already.

  I open the door and head straight over to the main part of the house. It’s a large residence. I often wondered why they chose never to have any children. I suspect maybe they couldn’t and pretended they didn’t want any in front of their friends. At times, it’s baffled me they chose to live in such a huge house with only just the two of them.

  I pass a few maids on the way. Elizabeth is carrying a tray of coffee. She speeds up when she sees me, as usual pretending I’m not even there. It’s been like this as long as I can remember. The maids aren’t allowed to talk to me.

  It looks like my aunt and uncle are done with their coffee; now’s a good time to hand over the cash and go back to the basement. I don’t understand why I’m so apprehensive to talk to them. I’ve been living in their house since I was ten and they’ve always treated me like an outcast. Lately, I’ve been avoiding them. I overheard two of the maids talking the other day, saying my aunt was planning to send me away. I have no idea if they were just gossiping or if what they said was true, but Rivenna has always been my home and no one is ever going to convince me to leave by force or otherwise.

  “Aunt, Uncle, I have the money for you,” I say, walking into the living room. They’re sitting on the sofa, not bothering to acknowledge my presence. My aunt’s reading a book and my uncle’s immersed in his favourite paper.

  I smooth my hair, but since I cut my hair it’s difficult to cover my scar. A few months ago one of my spells went wrong and I burned half of the top of my head, and had no choice but to shave most of my hair. It grew back, but for months I had to listen to my aunt telling me how hideous I looked.

  “Astri, as if your scar isn’t bad enough. Now we’re forced to see your gawd awful hair as well. It at least hid part of your face. You’ll always be hideous and you’re uncle and I will be stuck with you until the end of our days.”

  My Aunt Beatrice narrows her eyes at me and her lips start twitching. She’s been doing this ever since the doctor removed the bandages from my face in the hospital. My mother was my aunt’s second cousin. As far as I know my parents never kept in touch with the human side of my mum’s family.

  “All right, don’t just stand there. Hand over the envelope, so I can get back to my article,” my uncle barks, lowering his glasses.

  “An arse,” I hear Lenin whispering to Jetli.

  My aunt finally puts down the book and looks at me when I approach her husband. Her eyes move over my dusty clothes and stop on the scar. She cringes, parts her lips and releases a short breath. That’s how she deals with me being in the same room with her.

  “You look filthy, Astri, and look at the dust you brought into the room. Seriously, when are you finally going to take responsibility for yourself?” she asks, smoothing her sleeve. She’s a boney woman, with long, skinny fingers and hands, wearing a black, fitted dress and a designer jacket she most likely paid a fortune for.

  Everything about my aunt is superficial and we both know “me and my scar” don’t fit into her perfect world. She hates the fact she’s tied to a scarred shifter.

  I try to ignore her when heat rushes over my face. I have to respect them no matter how horrible they treat me, because they took me into their home when no one else wanted me.

  “It’s all there, but you can count it if you want to,” I say, handing my uncle an envelope filled with cash. Richard frowns and actually does count the money, tensing his whole body, probably because I’m standing so close to him. I need to ask him exactly how much the surgery cost. He’s been dodging the answer for too long now.

  “Where have you been today that you’re so filthy? I hope none of the neighbours saw you?” my aunt asks. “You know people like talking around here.”

  “No. No one saw me, Aunt. I was careful,” I mutter, watching Jetli make a stupid face as she’s flying over Beatrice’s head.

  “The other night Rufus’s nephew saw you and the ladies in the book club were talking about your horrendous scar. They were very surprised we agreed to pay for the surgery or even claimed you for that matter, knowing what kind of burden you’d be on Richard and I,” my aunt continues and my pulse speeds up.

  “So she’s saying she should’ve let you die. What a bitch. Let me fart in her face, Astri. I really want to,” Lenin shouts, flying over to my arm.

  I don’t know how to respond. I have to say something; otherwise they’ll think I’m insulting them with my silence.

  “You should have a bit more gratitude. We spent our hard-earned money to save your life; we raised you and clothed you. You still have a roof over your head and we provided an excellent education,” my uncle throws in my face, as if I asked for any of those things or to be scarred.

  “I am grateful,” I say, then turn and walk away. My aunt says something, but I run back to the basement, swallowing my tears. That’s it. I don’t want to listen to them anymore. Tomorrow my life’s going to change and I’m done feeling obligated to stay with them. Emilia’s right—I’ve given them more than enough money over the years and I never asked them to “save” me. I have to stand up for myself. I’m an adult now and I don’t deserve to be mistreated by them any longer. Richard and Beatrice can’t tell me what to do anymore. This debt can’t possibly be endless.

  “Tomorrow’s my chance to pull away from this family forever. I just have to do well,” I say, lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Astri, you’re an awesome hunter and tomorrow you'll show them all what you’re capable of. Jetli and I know you’ll rock the contest,” Lenin says, flying over my head.

  I nod to myself, sitting in the human part of the city, in a dark basement where my aunt and uncle moved me when I was ten years old after they heard me screaming in the upstairs bedroom after a nightmare. It’s my life for now, until I face the duke—until everything changes for the better.

  Chapter 5

  The entry task.

  The usual nightmare wakes me in the middle of the night. The clock reads twelve a.m., and I feel as if I’m burning alive. I try to shake it off, thinking about more pleasant thoughts. The life I once I had with my parents and the new life journey I’m creating for myself. Somehow, I manage to drift back to sleep, and it seems only moments later I awake to the sound of my alarm stirring me back to the land of the living. I stretch and rub my eyes, gently shaking Lenin and Jetli. They complain, as they do every morning, that I set the alarm way too early.

  Occasionally, I arrive at the store before six in the morning in order to avoid my uncle who leaves the house for work around eight o’clock.

  The town’s still sleeping. Only the milkman’s out and about making his usual rounds. I use the back entrance to enter Emilia’s shop, thinking about the black paste my boss uses to heal nasty wounds. Most of the candidates who are going to show up for the contest today will most likely be male shifters, but it doesn’t matter. I’m planning to cover up my appearance as much as I can; that way no one will judge me when I stand in front of the duke.

  I hang around in the back until it’s time to open, then collect a few things that might be useful to me later on. Clients begin appearing after Emilia shows up. All the customers arriving this morning are already talking about the duke’s contest and I begin to wonder if this is really what I want to do.

  “Damian’s getting ready at home. He can’t wait for the contest to begin. He looks great in his leather outfit,” Megan, Govenor Pollock’s secretary says, talking to Arlene, the owner of the restaurant from across the street. I’m sorting inventory in the back, so I can hear them pretty clearly. Damian works at the bank and he’s sort of a pretty boy. I have no idea if he has any other skills apart from knowing how to count money.

  “Well, he needs to be careful. Apparently the tasks the duke set up are pretty tough,” Arlene says and I can hear the cynicism in her tone. Even she do
esn’t believe Damian has what it takes. “And there are rumours—Jorgen is looking for someone to take over his duties. Apparently he’s ill.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing none of it’s true. There are always absurd rumours going around town. It’s Hans, the duke’s father, who’s ill and hasn’t been seen in public for months now. I can’t wait until midday. Shifters are buzzing with excitement, and I presume the crowd won’t disappoint.

  “Damian says the tasks won’t be that difficult. I believe him, and I think he’ll look fantastic when he shifts into a dragon,” Megan adds, more determined, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Again. Damian has no idea what he’s getting himself into. The contest is about strength, power and fitness—none of which he exhibits in any form.

  Megan is blond, long-legged and sometimes she works as a model in Runnes, another city up North. She doesn’t understand Damien might get injured or even killed. I’ve thought about this long and hard—there’s nothing left for me in Rivenna. The duke ruined my life, so I want to look him in the eye and see if he remembers that ten year old girl from the Wyvern clan who survived her own deadly spell. I doubt he will, but it’s my chance to finally show everyone I’m not just some scarred girl who always hangs around alone, afraid of her own shadow.

  “Astri, we’re closing early today,” Emilia says, startling me, as I’m checking my arrows in the back.

  The Pixies are napping, snoring loudly by the bookcase. There’s still a few errands I need to run before midday, so Emilia isn’t left with too much to do.

  “Early?” I ask.

  “Because of the duke’s contest, haven’t you heard? The whole city’s talking about it,” Emilia says, looking excited too. “I’m surprised a mage in his position isn’t married. He’s such a handsome man.”