Page 25 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“Happens when your opponents are bigger and stronger.” I shrug, trying to keep my breaths slow and even.

“I can heal them for you,” she offers.

“No, that’s fine,” I say.

She looks at me skeptically.

“Maybe they scar, and I have something to remember this day by,” I add.

Her facial expression tells me she’s not a fan of that concept, but at least it will explain the rest of my scars.

She shrugs and turns toward the desk. I release my breath, conscious of not being too obvious about it.

She picks up two objects and carries them over to me. Two balls made of a bluish-gray stone. She hands me the first; it’s cool, smooth, and heavy in my hands. She watches me closely like there is more to it than holding a stone ball.

Is this some kind of test?

She takes it back and hands me the other one.

The hum in the air is the only warning I get before it hits my palm. Pain pulses through my hand, and I fight to keep my face passive.

The stone ball is loaded with magic. Something inside me stirs, like a snake uncurling, reacting to it. I struggle to maintain my stoic expression while the magic seeps into me, and the thing inside me rises and drinks it up.

It’s only a small trickle, but I know it will get stronger the longer I hold it until there is no more magic left to take.

She reaches out to take the ball back. I can’t wait to be rid of it, but I put it down slowly, just like the other one. I hope she can’t sense the magic lessened, but I’ve never heard of anyone being able to gauge the amount of magic an object holds.

“Anything?” she asks. I shake my head, not trusting my voice right now. My hand still tingles and is slightly numb. The healer laughs under her breath. “I don’t see the use either. It’s not like a cursed one would be so bold to walk in here.” She shakes her head. “Probably a relic from times when they weren’t hunted yet.”

This tidbit of information throws me off balance, and I’m glad her back is turned while she puts the stone globes back on the cushion they lay on before.

When they weren’t hunted yet? There was a time when cursed ones were free to live in the open?

She is still at the desk, signing something. “We’re done here. Good luck.” She hands me the slip with my number, gives me another smile, and leaves the room.

I made it.

It feels unreal, and I’m so giddy a laugh bubbles up. I clamp a hand over my mouth and look at the stamped and signed slip she handed me. It confirms my health and that I carry no markings.

With a big grin on my face, I hum while getting dressed, and any fatigue is momentarily forgotten. Even my secret of hiding among the male candidates is still safe because I am only a number to her.

My hand still tingles as if I slept on it while I make my way back outside and hand over my slips to the skyrider collecting them.

After a short wait, we are separated into two groups, and my grin widens when Calix walks over to me, looking incredulous and happy.

We are both officially part of the academy now.

The sun starts to set behind the tall mountains as we are ushered back into the courtyard. It looks different now. Only the obstacle course remains. Everything else is cleared away, leaving only a big open space.

I’m standing next to Calix in front of a big double door leading into the surrounding buildings. Four steps lead up to it, creating a small stone platform. The buildings cast the courtyard in shadows. Only the roofs and the towers of the academy and the colossal mountains behind them are still painted red-golden by the evening sun.

My mind goes back to the magically charged balls during questioning and what the healer said.

“…from when they weren’t hunted yet.”

It hadn’t always been that way? When did it change? And why? Would I be able to find answers in the academy’s library?

A group behind us is obnoxiously loud, bragging about how they eliminated their opponents in sparring.

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