Page 24 of Overwhelmed By Magic

Leo snorts at my innocence. “Because, we’ve all been told the same fucking lies. That there are only seven elements and only so many designations. But Mother Nature doesn’t make mistakes. She creates. She wields her sword and gives us the gift of essence. She doesn’t make faulty creations. Only someone trying to control the narrative would spout that bullshit.”

Azriel jabs him in the arm. “Bullshit we all believed not too long ago.”

“So, we just spend five years trying our best-”

Tamara sighs, stepping up to me and patting my shoulder. “Skye, why do you think the world knows nothing about Grimrose Academy? It’s because we don’t leave and the few that do are locked up, thrown back here, or end up dying. The Magila council doesn’t want to hear about what goes on here. Hell, they’ll probably never read our reports either. We’ve become some kind of strange group, trying to figure out what works best.”

“So everything is just hopeless?”

She tilts her head to the side and I can see that she once had the hope that I did. I have no idea how long she’s been here but the bags beneath her eyes and the sliver of gray peeking through her hair tell me it’s been long enough. “I wouldn’t say it’s hopeless but don’t lose yourself in trying to find the answers.” She points to a paper on the desk that’s much newer than the rest. “That’s the list of students under your care. I’ve been told you’re a great researcher so maybe you can pick out something that the rest of us have missed.”

“Fat chance”, the other two mutter but I ignore them.

“We’re basically just therapists for these poor Magila,” Tamara adds. There’s a small smile on her face but the gesture doesn’t reach her eyes.

Azriel pushes off the door and disappears down the hall, Leo doing the same. I stand there, entirely out of my element, waiting for Tamara to offer any last advice.

“The students know not to mess with anyone but it’s not always adhered to. Just take notes of the students assigned to you, how they’re coping, their essence levels, etc. I wouldn’t venture out into the main hall much. Stay here, the cafeteria, or your room. There’s a cot in the back of your office with a bathroom attached if you prefer.”

Just before she leaves, I ask one last question. “What happened to the last occupant of this room?” I know it’s a last-minute assignment but I’m not sure why no one cleaned it. Scratch that, if everything is as hopeless as Tamara has made it seem, there’s no reason for them to have cleaned it.

No one really cares here, do they?

“Do you really want an answer to that or are you just asking out of curiosity? Don’t do that, Skye. Curiosity will get you killed in here. Just stick to the students you’re assigned to and write the reports. Read whatever you like but don’t be a hero. It won’t get you anywhere.” Tamara bows her head and leaves. I’m not even sure what to do with all the information that has been thrown at me.

I pick up the list of students I’m stuck with, my face slowly losing color as I realize I’ve been stuck with some of the Magila who have been here decades. There are a few newer ones and then at the bottom is the only one I recognize.

Harlow Bardot.

Well, I have that at least.

I spout a watery laugh before taking a glance around the ancient room I’ve been assigned. It feels like I’ve stepped into a time capsule, something from the 1600 or 1700’s. The wood is old but strong, essence laced in every beautiful carving along the mantle. Books sit along every shelf, volumes of Magila history and fiction alike. There’s so much knowledge in this room that it’ll take me years to get through.

The desk has the same carvings, fountain pens and ink littered across the side of the desk. It takes me a few moments to realize that this room hasn’t been touched in as long as it looks. I want to ask what happened, truly this time, but I’m not sure I’ll like the answer.

Instead, I start wiping off the beautiful wood surface, surprised to find indents across the bottom. My brows furrow as I uncover letters that were very obviously carved into it.

Essence cannot be contained. Free. Unyielding. Mysterious.

I run my fingers over it a few times, hoping to make some sense of it or the man who last stood in my place. While there isn’t much hope swirling through these halls, the few I’ve met have all agreed that essence doesn’t follow the same rules that the Magila council has put forth.

Dr. Bennington may have thought I was the best person for the job but he has no idea that I’m going to obsess over this now. Maybe the problem is that there are more than seven elements to begin with. If Mother Nature isn’t limited in her creativity, then why have we limited it in our own understanding?

I reach over to my arm to call Harlow and think better of it. I need to stop leaning on him for everything and for now, I’m safe in my own little bubble. Glancing up to check that no one is watching me, I start cleaning off all the surfaces, giggling to myself with every unearthed book that piques my interest.

I know I’ve essentially waltzed right into a Magila prison but for the moment my mind is consumed with the knowledge waiting for me.

15

HARLOW

I’m worried about Skye, especially after lingering in the hallway to make sure that he was okay. He didn’t notice me and neither did the counselors, which is something I’m definitely going to abuse in the coming months. It takes me a few moments to find my room before I just end up sprawling out on the bed. There’s no fucking way I’m going to be attending class, especially after seeing what the first years are exposed to.

It's a fucking repeat of Astral Academy with a few more exercises to determine what we’re capable of. I already know what I can do and I’m not proud of most of it. Constantly weathering my emotions so I don’t explode in a fit of smoky gray aura and essence that can’t be contained is kind of a bitch.

“Seems like someone is moving in just fine.”

I groan and sit up, frowning at the intrusion into my room. Rumi and Ambrose have made an appearance, a shy purple-haired individual in tow. He’s absolutely gorgeous, wide eyes peering over Rumi’s shoulder as if the angel is his protector. I can already feel the power of their essence and that it’s much older than mine.

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