Page 7 of Validus Vale Academy 1
There are three student houses at Validus Vale. Electi House for the Elites. Communis House is for the general population, or Ordinarii as they’re more frequently known, and Defectivum House is home to the remedial students. The academy isn’t subtle with its naming conventions. Anyway, it doesn’t take a genius (or an Elite) to know where I belong.
After swiping a few screens, the woman looks up. “I’ve switched you to Defectivum,” she says, giving me a bland smile.
Good. I'd much rather be around low-level witches who might be more sympathetic to my unawoken state. “Thanks,” I say, and relief must seep into my tone. She raises an eyebrow, like my response surprises her, and I wince as her thoughts push inside my head again.—Gods, being an AUA is worse than being just human. This girl won’t last a semester—
I guess I’ll be hearing a lot of that kind of thinking. After all, being an AUAisthe worst possible fate for a witch.
Kids with magical DNA, aka witches, have their spark awaken during puberty—but not me. After I started my period at age thirteen, I’d wake every morning brimming with excitement, thinking, ‘this will be the day,’ but it never was. At first, everyone thought I was just a late bloomer, but after I turned eighteen, I was designated an official Adult Unawoken Anomaly.
Oh well. When you’re at the bottom of the pile, isn’t the only way up?
“Here’s a map,” the housing coordinator says. “Someone in Defectivum will take it from there. They’ll have your orientation packet, and if there are any problems, they can sort you out.”
“Thanks,” I mutter again, as I take the paper and then head towards my new home. First, I pass Electis. It’s a crazy, opulent set of student apartments with staff to attend to their everywhim. I mean, why not? If you’re an Elite, the world is your oyster. That’s just how the world works.
The twins are Elites. Shite, they could be watching me right now. I search out their penthouse with its floor-to-ceiling windows, embraced by the little Juliet balcony. Memories swim to the surface of my mind, making my eyes water. Gods dammit. I won’t cry. I won’t give them another solitary tear.
That’s harder said than done. My ridiculous heart clenches at the thought of my twin lovers—the two men who I’d foolishly thought the universe had gifted me forever. Nope, I wasn’t going to think of Donovan’s strong, athletic hands playing with my naked body. Or Wes’s smoldering eyes that would linger as he framed us through the lens of his Hasselblad camera. Click, whir, another perfect, stolen moment captured, until the tension coiled too tight, and he stopped being the voyeur photographer and joined us on that sprawling, king-sized bed.
What a ridiculous idiot I was; the affair hadn’t even lasted two months.
With a wrench, I drag myself out of the painful landscape of my mind and focus instead on the manicured perfection surrounding Validus Vale. Emerald lawns and elegant fountains dot the grounds. Someone must have just mowed, as I can smell fresh grass cuttings. A couple of peacocks peck the ground at the base of a marble statue of a griffin. The landscape gets less magnificent as I keep walking. Communis House is plain but perfectly acceptable. The gravel has been raked, and the windows are clean and sparkling.
Communis is where eighty percent of the Validus Vale students live. Most witches are Ordinarii; not many rise to the ranks of the Elite.
I’ve never been to the remedial block before. Rounding a corner, I come face to face with Defectivum House, which is a narrowfour-story building. The upkeep of this part of the grounds is obviously low on the list of priorities. Weeds poke up through the patchy stone pathway, and several black trash bags are piled against the wall by the entrance.
I guess no one cares about the aesthetics because students only remain in Defectivum for a term or two. Validus Vale has a perfect success rate in helping remedials quickly increase their spark. Once that happens, the student is transferred to Communis.
I have a sinking feeling that’s not going to happen for me. No, I will be the last woman standing in Defectivum, trailing through echoing, deserted dorms, like a modern-day Miss Havisham.
Ah well. Here we go.
The large front door is ajar, and as I push it fully open, the hinges groan, desperate for oil. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me to find Lurch waiting inside the gloom. But in the dim light, the only person around is an older man sitting back in a wing chair.
He’s tapping panels on a tablet, looking exceedingly engaged. “Gotcha, you little trickster,” he suddenly announces, making me jump.
I edge nearer and clear my throat. “Um, hello?”. There is dust, mold, or something in the air that makes my eyes water. “Sorry to interrupt, but could you direct me to the housing coordinator?”
The beeping and chirping of the tablet cuts off, and the man’s balding head lifts. “Who are you?” he asks, eyeing me beadily.
“Um, Theo Wilson. I’ve been assigned here.”
“Room allocations on the board,” he replies, returning to his tablet, the beeps starting up again.
The noticeboard is covered in flyers, including one for ‘Fateball try-outs’, a study group sign-up for the Defectivum-delayed, and a note about the third floor having bedbugs. In between them allis a handwritten list; each name has a room number beside it, but my name is not there.
Seriously?
Returning to the man in the chair, I nervously interrupt his gameplay once more. “Um, sorry, but my name isn’t on the list,” I tell him. “Do you know where I can find someone to help?”
Baldy-man has thoughts of pixel-art potions flying around his head; the game is some kind of alchemy puzzle. He sighs deeply, then hits pause. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, not standing up but at least directing his attention towards me and away from his high score.
“Theo Wilson.”
“Hold your horses.” He pushes some buttons on his device, then shakes his head. “Yeah, nope. Not on the list.”
I feel stupid tears pushing into my eyes. I’m so tired. “Are you sure?” I ask. “I was originally to be in Communis but just got transferred here.”
