The Mage’s War (Crescent Moon Academy Book 1)

by CY Jones

  “Yes, unless you’re too sore or something.” She cuts off. I know what she’s about to say. Unless I want to still keep my skills private from her. It was her that stopped sharing with me and started hiding things. I only did it because I didn’t want her to feel bad.

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll train with you.” Walking over to the picnic table, I shrug my jacket off. Kaydence did a really good job with the healing. I wasn’t in pain anymore, just a little stiff. I could still feel the drain on my magic, but that’s to be expected. After I finish up with Angelica, I’m going to take a long nap so my mana has a chance to properly replenish. Training should be fine as long as I don’t dip too much into my pool of magic.

  She walks over to the clearing and I follow behind her. When she gets into position, I strike, moving quick as the wind. She avoids my attack, flipping over my head and I drop down, sweeping her feet, and she lands on her sweet ass with a loud oomp.

  “You need to be quicker than that. I was injured after all,” I taunt.

  She flips on her feet and I strike her side. Anticipating my move, she blocks and executes a spinning kick, which sends me flying. Using my speed, I’m back on her. My fist flies at her in rapid succession and she blocks, sending out punches of her own as well as spins and complicated kicks, but her technique is sloppy with some of her punches having very little power behind them. If I wanted, I could have finished her off a couple of times, but this is about training. Dad is a formidable fighter. To this day, I still can’t defeat him, but is this the best that he taught her? When she does another sloppy spin and almost loses her balance, I’ve had enough and I flip her over my shoulder hard onto the ground.

  “What exactly did you do with Dad? With your current technique, I’m surprised you lasted here this long.” I may be shouting at her, but she’s not the one I’m pissed with. I’m mostly mad with myself and Dad. I should have made myself more aware. Snuck into her sessions, something.

  “I’m not that bad,” she replies, rubbing her back side. “And I think I have been taking care of myself just fine, thank you.” Yes, she has, but I’m starting to wonder how. When I heard she took Allister Caster down, I was shocked, then proud. Now, I’m wondering if it has been just dumb luck this whole time.

  “Let’s work on your form. Maybe you’re just tired or something,” I suggest and she nods in agreement.

  For the next hour, we run through a series of moves as I correct her form. She still has a long way to go, but under my tutelage, she ended a lot better than when we started. I know for a fact she’s better with her voodoo powers, but she needs to focus on fighting like a harlequin. Once we graduate from here, those are the only powers she’ll be able to use in the commune. She needs to grow strong enough to summon her staff. A player card must choose her or she won’t be able to return home with me, no matter how impressive her ranking here is. Dad won’t have a choice, which is the only reason why he agreed to send us to the academy. Dad already knows the plan. If the worst happens and it comes to her getting banished, I’ll save her and claim her hand in marriage. I already have Father’s approval. By accepting and wearing my bell, we are already good as engaged anyways, according to our culture. Sure, Mom will be furious, but fuck her. This is my life, and she has no say in a patriarch community.

  Our limbs move together in synchronized movement, like a deadly dance. Mine flows like the tide, but she’s getting better at keeping control. Dance is the most important technique a harlequin can learn. It’s how we gather our power throughout our limbs. Her flips are up to par and her spins flawless. It’s just everything else she can stand to do better. Plus, she’s not generating much of an energy flow through her limbs, almost like she’s holding back. Why is she so scared of what she can do? She should go all out and hold back for no one, not even me. She won’t fail to succeed. I won’t let her. This is a vow I’ll risk my life to keep.

  We’re both panting by time we finally stop. Having expanded myself past what’s healthy in my current condition, I feel like I’m about to pass out.

  “You don’t look too good, Quinn. Maybe you should go get some rest. I’m going to stay out here and practice some more.”

  “I always look good and I’m not just leaving you here by myself. If I go in, then you’re going too,” I order.

  “Quinn, didn’t you chastise me this morning about not believing in you to take care of yourself? I’ll be fine. No one is even out here. They’re probably off getting drunk somewhere.” She has a point, but still. “Quinn,” she growls, giving me the look. I hate that look. I always cave.

  “Fine, but make sure you don’t stay out here too long and get some rest yourself.”

  “I will,” she smiles, bouncing over and kissing my cheek. Grumbling, I leave her behind. She’ll be fine, I tell myself all the way back to my room.

  Chapter 13

  Ryker

  I see the change immediately as soon as her brother leaves. Alone, she flies through the moves her brother was just teaching her like an expert, some even better than he executed himself. She’s a force of nature, a raging tide; beautiful yet destructive. As she flips through the air, you can practically feel the power she’s generating and it gives me goosebumps. She’s graceful like a swan, quick and precise, but I’m curious as to why the big show for her brother?

  “Are you seeing this?” I ask Milo. The bastard is quiet, casually leaning against the thick tree trunk like he could care less about fucking everything, but that’s just how he is and sometimes, like now, it gets on my nerves. Sometimes, you want a reaction out of people. I wish my brother was here, but after his confrontation with Zion, the coldhearted bastard separated us just because my brother called him out on his shit. Like Kirito will do any better. Oli tells me he fucked her last night. I wish I was there to see it. Fuck that, I wish I participated. I have no qualms in sharing with my brothers. In our commune, it’s common to have more than one mate. Oli and I have three dads.

  “I have eyes and they work,” he answers nonchalantly.

  “And? Is that all you gonna say?” I ask, incredulously.

  “What do you want me to tell you? The girl has lots of secrets, even from her own brother.”

  My eyes watch her hungrily. When she pulls off a move flawlessly that she stumbled through before with her brother, I had just about reached my limit, but when she sends out this plum color of power that cuts down a whole tree like it was never there, even Milo stands, having finally caught his attention.

  “That’s no harlequin,” he mumbles. A black cat appears out of who knows where and rubs itself against me and then Milo, weaving itself through his legs. Poor lost kitty. He’s not the best one to go to for free rub downs. Milo would likely feed him to his crow rather than pet him, but to my surprise, he bends down and picks the kitty up, rubbing it behind its ears. The cat purrs content in his arms while I stand there with my mouth open, wondering if I just stepped into the Twilight Zone.

  The girl is now freaking out as she should be and she grabs her jacket and runs off, but not before I get a good look at her right shoulder and the gold marking waving in my face like a bad omen. Fuck me, she has been marked by a Champion. Zion is going to flip his lid.

  “Hey there, little guy. Do you know what secrets your master is keeping?” Milo asks the cat. He meows, but I doubt Milo can speak feline. I sure as hell can’t, even if I do have some control over animals.

  “How do you know that’s even her familiar?” I question.

  “Just a guess,” he murmurs before whispering something into the cat’s ear and putting him back safely onto the ground. The cat rubs against his legs one more time before running off and disappearing.

  Milo’s familiar, a black crow named Poe, swoops down with a squawk, landing on his shoulder. The bird is huge. He could probably carry off small children if it wanted, and it creeps me out with his soulless black eyes. I heard rumors that he can change his form, but I’ve never seen him do it. Milo likes to keep his secrets
hidden, even from his allies.

  “Are you going to tell Zion about the mark?” I ask casually. I don’t want him to pick up on the fact that I’m uncomfortable with killing her. I still don’t know what I will do if Zion gives the order.

  “A mark? I didn’t see a mark, just a cat.” With that, he disappears in the shadows, shocking the hell out of me for the second time of the day. Maybe patrolling with Milo isn’t that bad after all.

  Angelica

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, I can’t believe I did that. What if someone saw me? Stupid, stupid Angelica. Quinn may have riled me up a bit more than necessary while training, and I let my temper get the best of me. Okay, I was furious. The whole time out there he had no idea I was holding back, but when he kept questioning our father’s training? That is what really set me off. Dad is an excellent teacher and he taught me a lot, even if he was way over his head. But I can’t let Quinn know that. Mix in a little guilt and sibling rivalry, I may have lost my shit. After Quinn left and I was alone again, I went all out, forgetting to tamper my magic. I meant to release a small wave of magic, not let out a whole typhoon. That poor tree, incinerated.

  Come on, Angelica, take deep even breaths. What’s done is done now. In and out, I breathe slowly, letting my pep talk calm my nerves. Soon, my heart stops racing and the ringing in my ears stops. Besides, I’m probably freaking out for nothing. I didn’t see anyone out there the whole time we were practicing. Quinn was long gone when it happened. Nope, there was no one to bear witness, but me and Mother Nature, and I am so freakin sorry I ruined your tree. I wouldn’t want any of the spirit Gods coming after me in vengeance for an oak tree.

  Once I calm down, I start to notice the pain in my shoulder near my deltoid. It burns like I was hit and wounded. No, that’s not right, maybe branded is a better explanation. The area is warm, the raised angry red skin burns like a really bad sunburn. What the hell is going on with me? See. This is why you shouldn't anger the Gods. I knew I was going to get shit for destroying that tree. Holding my hand over the sore spot, I practically jog to the bathroom. Once in there, I check to see if I’m alone, checking under the stalls and in the showers to make sure. Satisfied I’m alone, I slowly peel my jacket off, careful to keep the fabric from touching my injured skin. Fuck, it even hurts to move my arm now.

  Once uncovered, I glance back and forth from my arm to the mirror in utter disbelief. Have I finally snapped? Did killing a tree sever the last remaining strands of my sanity? Because unless someone knocked me out and then decided to tattoo me out on the lawn, I should not have a golden flower tattooed to my arm. Since it’s no longer an angry red, I poke at the mark and hiss at the flourish of heat that surrounds the area. The tattoo sparkles like it’s been dusted with gold glitter and moves in a flutter of movement as if being blown by a gentle breeze. Like it’s real, but that’s impossible. Right?...This is impossible. The petals feel too real, soft like velvet, yet I can make out the ridges of the raised veins on each petal just like last night with the scales of Kirito’s familiar. This is no regular tattoo, but a magical marking. Something or someone has chosen and marked me. What the hell is going on? But I don’t get my answers or even get to finish my freakout when my legs suddenly gives out and I pass the fuck out.

  I watch the enemy like a predator as more of their boats land on our white sandy shores. Huge ships packed full of more of their people to destroy and disgrace our land. Since they’ve gotten here, they have done nothing but take, destroy, and kill. Taking from the forest without first paying respects to the spirits who watch over them. Destroying our fertile land as they build their strange structures, and killing wherever they go. Villages raided, our women taken and violated, my fellow warrior’s blood spelled and absorbed through the earth… Pale faces. They call themselves ‘frontiers’. I call them the devil. A brand of evil my people now have no choice but to destroy.

  We tried to make peace. Share what we have and teach them the ways of the Powhatan, but they looked down their narrow noses at us and snatched what was not theirs out of our open palms. All they care about is spilling our blood so they don’t have to share the land we flourished. For the first time, my divided brethren have come together. A hundred other tribes have made peace. Together, we will rid these devils from our land. Now, we have a common goal. A common enemy. Every pale face must die. Burn their ships, tear down their homes, spill the blood of those who dare to fight back. They will regret the day they found this place. Jamestown has fallen. Their England will be next.

  I’m wounded, but I carry on, slaughtering the pale faces. Their weapons are mighty. Rifles they call them, but my bow is sturdy and my arrow is always true. I notch my bow, pull, and let go, killing another pale face with an arrow through the neck. He was unaware of me like the spirits around him, too consumed with violating another one of my fellow sisters. She runs away as I move to another tree, gliding across the branches like I can fly. Notch, pull, shoot. Notch, pull, shoot. This is my death song I sing in my head. My mantra that keeps me going. With my knife, I cut them open. With my bow, I take them down. Everywhere I go, I leave a trail of blood. Blood is my skin and death is my body.

  Going day and night makes my body wary. I do not stop. I do not rest. My dreams are filled with nightmares of all those I was too late to save. Males, Females, children; the pale faces do not care who they kill, so why should I?

  There’s no trees to take cover in. The pale faces surround us. This field with their golden flowers is where we make our last stand. Our brothers and sisters are gone. Mothers and fathers destroyed, but we fight on for all those we have lost. I swing with my bow, cut with my knife. I’m inhuman, my heart pumps only to vengeance’s call. The pale faces may be the devil, but I am Hell. My limbs tire, but I push on. The hot sun beams on my blood drenched skin, but I keep moving. I keep fighting for all those who cannot. Pain blossoms on my side. A new hole to add to my body. I grab the axe strapped to my back, throw it at my attacker, and it hits home on the side of his head. He falls down, kneeling in the bed of golden flowers before falling over, splattering them with dots of blood. Staining their beauty like they have stained our land. Horses whine, more shots fire, but I keep on moving in my dance of death. Swing, stab, kill. Swing, stab. Kill.

  Another blow. This time, this one is fatal. I can no longer hear the battle cry. Without hearing the music, how can I dance to the dance of death? I fall to the ground, my vision blurry. Above me, the sky is clear and blue. It’s beautiful and it calls out for me. Those that I have lost beckon me forward. Finally, I feel at peace. The golden flowers move around me, sprinkling me with their golden dust. They are magic. More beautiful than the skies above and they call out to me in a cry louder than my loved ones. I grasp onto that call because it sings of blood and vengeance. I cannot follow peace when all I know is death.

  Darkness takes me, but the golden flowers carry me away.

  Chapter 14

  Angelica

  When I wake, the sun has long gone down and it’s pitch black. Nearby, I can hear a stream and when I sit up, cool air hits my heated skin. With a loud groan, I push myself up, grasping onto the underbrush under my palms. Wait. What the hell? The last thing I remember is passing out in the bathroom. How the hell did I get outside? And where am I?

  Looking around, I don’t recognize anything. Where I’m at, the forest is thick and I don’t feel the magical barrier surrounding the academy, so I must be really far away. I knew it! Someone drugged me and must have dumped my body out here, but they didn’t kill me, which makes what they did really stupid. Maybe this is some kind of prank. Initiation into the top ten? Any minute now, Kirito will jump out and yell ‘surprise’ with a stoic Zion in tow.

  “Any minute now,” I yell out loud, but only the rustling of the trees reply back. “Okay, guys, this was funny at first, but your joke is starting to get old now. Come out, come out wherever you assholes are. So I can strangle you.” That last part I say under my breath, just in case they’re l
istening.

  Nothing. Maybe they don’t know the rules of hide and seek.

  “When I say come out, come out, wherever you are, that means I concede. You win, so come the fuck out already. It’s been a long ass day and I’m tired.” I’m pissed, my anger boiling over. Sure, harlequins love games; we live for them, but this is a little much. “I swear when I find you I’m going to kick all your asses,” I hiss while the wind and trees mock me.

  My sleeve on my jacket is ripped right at the deltoid, like someone cut it with a knife. Great, this was my favorite jacket. The golden marking is still there, shining like a beacon in the moonlight. It doesn’t hurt anymore, so I kind of forgot about it, but now, it’s glaring at me like a giant clue. Obviously, it has something to do with my abduction, but what? Why was I brought here? I know one thing, yelling about talking to the wind like Pocahontas is getting me nowhere. I need to figure out where I am so I can get back to the academy and work on kicking the ass of whoever marked me and then abandoned me out here. I’m starting to believe it wasn’t the guys because if it were, they’d come out by now. I’m not under any delusions that they are frightened of me.

  Let me start off by saying I’m no girl scout. There’s no such thing in the harlequin community. I think I saw in a movie somewhere, moss only grows on the north side of trees, so I start there. Until I realize I have no clue where I’m at, so I have no clue which direction I should be heading. For all I know, I could be headed straight for some swamp monster’s nest. It would be a shame to die that way, especially when I worked so hard in my placing at school. Quinn would miss me and he wouldn’t even know where to find my body to bring home to Dad. Plus, he’ll blame himself. That protective side of his will snap like a twig and he’ll destroy the whole damn school to avenge me. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad actually. Sometimes, I feel like that place needs to be burned down to the ground and start over.