Page 4 of The Scars Within
You are meant for more.
The events leading up to this moment could have– should have– broken me. But while I thought I had surrendered to the darkness in my soul, there was still a small part of me begging myself to live. That was the day I decided that either I can continue to live in the darkness of the Rock Bottom I escaped from, or I could take one step at a time to rebuild my life from the ground up.
The envelope in my hands was the start to my new beginning.
A cadet bumped into my back, forcing me to stumble forward, closer to the crowd pressed tightly together at the castle’s entrance. Thespace around me was suffocating, bodies packed so tightly that I could barely move. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep my mind steady, to stop the rising tide of panic threatening to turn me into a hyperventilating mess.
I highly doubt that would be a good first impression.
Mageia War College is for the elite. Only cadets with proven elemental magic or bloodlines tied to the elements are accepted. I’ve never felt even a flicker of elemental connection—so my father’s documentation was my only ticket in.
After he walked out on us, I overheard my mother whisper to Aunt Cora that he was an air wielder, and that his official paperwork was buried deep in their old trunk. I mentally packed that knowledge away—just in case I ever chose to enroll once I was of age. A part of me wondered if it was Cora that sent his documentation, but why would she have done it anonymously?
Once the crowd crested the broad staircase, the space finally opened up, allowing us to spread out. The crushing pressure in my chest eased slightly as I took in a steadier breath. Before us stood another broad staircase that split into three narrower sets further ahead.
A professor descended from the rightmost staircase. His face was shadowed with scruff, the kind that suggested either a disregard for appearances or the absence of someone in his life who cared enough to nag him about it. Without preamble, he began calling out names from the list in his hand.
Being a cadet means I’ll have housing, food, and... a chance at survival. I’ll have to pledge my life to serving Arya’s military, but it’s not like I have much of a life to forfeit.
“Thorne,” he called my surname.
“Here.”
Professor Scruffy directed me where to stand with a lazy wave of his arm. I stepped in beside a tall brunette with tan skin, her curly hairhanging low along her back. I could tell she was from a known family because she knew some initiates well enough for hugs and high-fives.
Holy elements. Please, nobody hug me.
It was just my mother and me against the world—until a fever took her when I was eight. After that, Aunt Cora took me in. She opened the door to the working-class world, teaching me everything I was allowed to do at that age.
By ten, I could hold my own. I know my help made a difference in her finances, but she’ll never understand how much it meant to me—having her not just as family, but as a mentor.
We lived happily together until she was offered her dream employment as an Herbology Professor at Mageia. She’s an earth wielder but never felt the pull to employ herself in our military forces. All Cora has ever wanted to do was help others by either teaching them or working herself on the farmlands for our little village of Caydean.
She was weary of leaving me behind. Professors are only allowed direct kin to come live in their chambers, which Mageia provides. But I assured her that I would be okay. I could care for myself, the cottage, and the small garden plot she owned.
Oh hell, was I wrong.
“Salvitto,” the brunette said as she held her hand to me. “Delaney Salvitto.”
“Scarlet,” I replied. “Scar, for short.”
“Scar? Did your parents read a lot of fairytales as kids?” she snorted.
“My mother is dead, and my father ditched us when I was a babe,” I said coldly, with an even colder expression written on my face. I am used to this conversation being one of the first topics when I meet someone new. People don’t want to get to know you; they want to know if your bloodline is worthy enough to spend their time talking with you. They want to know how powerful the elemental magic is in your lineage, even though the ability to channel an element has never been proven to be a hereditary trait.
“Oh… I am so sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. I have this tendency to speak before I think, and whatever comes out of my mouth is something I usually can’t–”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off. This is great, a miss-talks-a-lot.
“Well, Scarlet Thorne. It’s my pleasure to meet you. This is going to be one heck of a year,” Delaney said with a sudden change of tone.
Professor Scruffy ascended to the top of the steps from which he came. He looked around to make sure every initiate that entered the doors was accounted for and let out a deep cough that you’d usually find in someone with a fever.
“Everyone on the roll call is here. You have been divided into four factions going off your last name. Now, males split from females, and every group of four will be assigned to the same sleeping chamber. You’re adults, do the math,” he grunted.
The men and women split into separate groups, and everyone lined up alphabetically by surname. A shorter girl with deep brown skin stepped to the front of the line of women I stood with. She began counting heads and directing people where to go, her movements crisp and deliberate.
She exuded confidence, her posture straight and her shoulders squared. Though she barely reached my chin in height, she carried herself with a commanding presence that made her seem twice her size. Even her voice, steady and authoritative, made it clear she was no stranger to leadership.
