Page 14 of The Holy Academy of Witches

“Same shit, different year. Wright is having us recite poetry in an effort to speed up our language fluency for rituals.”

“Ha. I bet that’s gone down well.”

“As well as you’d imagine, yes. I’m not so sure the majority of them can even read… Anything new or interesting happening?”

“Not particularly… I’ve just had to accept a new student for tuition.”

“Any good?”

“Not sure yet, though she completed the test I gave her. I still have to look it over.”

“She might have just winged it.”

“Yes… perhaps.” I glanced over at the paper in question and itched to have a look. I had a feeling she hadn’t just tried her luck, but we would see.

“Anyway I gotta go, I need to grab a textbook I forgot in the library and then I’ve got a gig.”

“Speak to you later,” I replied. My mind wandered back to a news article I’d been reading earlier in the day, “hey Cillian…” I added.

“Yeah?”

“Just… be careful, okay?” I almost whispered. He paused, probably taken aback by my show of affection or however he’d read it.

“…Of course. Good night.” The call ended and I dropped my phone on the bed, looking out of the window.

Picking up Clove’s test answers, I sat at my desk, looking at the candles lined up along the windowsill long enough for each wick to burn brightly. With my room bathing in a soft glow I got to work studying her answers and spell work.

The first instruction was basic, simple enough questions on the origins of magic and key elements needed for the majority of spell casting. The next few were harder, the section dedicated purely to potions and healing, but to my surprise, her answers were detailed and clear. She clearly studied well. Reading on, I paused, another sheet of paper slipped out from behind my mother’s acceptance. Divination written along the top in what must have been Clove’s own script. The page was full, line after line of description, insight and even annotated drawings. I stared in wonder, my fingertips brushing over her handwriting. Indents where she had punctuated with passion. This was beyond even the standard that teachers expected of me… she was brilliant. I reread a couple of her opinions more than once, she’d had ideas and thoughts that I wouldn’t have even considered. My mother’s mention of Clove’s intuition drawing her to the Tarot, despite her avoidance of the area, popped to mind. Hmm. A natural inclination toward Divination, I wondered what her gift was.

I returned to the page hastily to, without a doubt, the hardest requests of the test. I had made the questions obscure and intentionally difficult to trip up even the most intelligent of witches but now I knew she was gifted in Divination I needn’t have bothered. Natural fortune tellers and seers were never equally capable at Rituals. It was an entirely different ballgame. Divination required talent and focus, sure, but it was instinctual. The truth pulled in your gut and visions taunted your sleeping moments. Rituals required carefully remembered rules, lists of items, a wealth of knowledge and a mind clear of only the required wording and intention. It was the Maths and Science to Divination’s Art. So it was no surprise that she had done abysmally.

I nodded to myself as I climbed into bed, determined that she was clearly a bright, intelligent witch who most definitely needed tutoring in everything besides Divination.

Nine

Sage

Returning to my dorm after turning my test answers over to Adeline, I stumbled into the common area. My boots were always a bit too heavy this late but I still had my homework for the next day to work on.

Starting a pot of coffee, I went to my room to change. I had no other room mate as they were all more comfortable with each other, so I threw my dirty clothes wherever I liked. I changed into a pair of vibrant red sweatpants, one of Theo’s outgrown sweatshirts, and a thick pair of kitty socks.

The smell of coffee had brought everyone out of their rooms and I found myself pulling out five mugs and all the fixings. Marsha, dressed in a loose shirt and basketball shorts, liked hers with sweetener and light cream. Melody, in a robin’s egg blue nightgown, wanted hers light and sweet. Silva, in a navy crushed-velvet sleep-set, preferred tea, not this nasty bitter stuff, so I made hers with a packet of hot cocoa, extra sugar and creamer with whipped cream and sprinkles. Amelia took one look at Silva’s and asked for “That one, whatever it is.” So I made two more. Marsha looked a little ill at the excess sugar while Melody informed me I’d be making her one next time.

We sipped in an easy silence.

“So where did you stomp off to?” Silva asked, a playful brow raise was my only indication she was enjoying my cocoa-fee.

“Oh… Well, I went to the Lake.”

“Ah, you already have a beau then?” She asked. Taking a closer look at my sweatshirt, she pursed her lips.

“No, a twin brother.”

“No way!”

“What’s he look like?”

“Does he play any sports? Will he enter into The Run?”

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