Page 1 of The Darkness in the Magi

Chapter 1

SOPHIE

One by one, the other girls are called up to the maven mother who places her hand on their foreheads, saying the words of old. I watch as their skin lights with runes and they grow giddy with excitement.

For most of them, the Witching Tribunal is a joyous occasion. They get to start their lives after a lifetime of being caged.

But I know that for me, it’ll just mean another cage.

The words that are spoken serve to strengthen us in the element we’re strongest in, which is great if you’re a typical apprentice.

I am not.

Watching a natura magi’s face light with elation as glowing green incantations rush down her arms sends me further into despair.

I suppose they could send me to another coven. Or maybe I’ll be called to study.

In the back of my mind, a dark seed has taken root. One I dared not give life to.

Until now.

No longer can I push my worries aside because now I must deal with the consequences of what I am, meaning they could choose to render me, silencing my gifts.

Every fiber of my being tells me I should escape, but I have nowhere to go. The coven is all I know, and they’re adept at hunting down rogue magi.

“Sophie,” the maven mother calls my name.

I have no choice but to go to her.

Her eyes bore into mine, hardening as they would when I’ve misbehaved.

She knows.

She’s always known.

I kneel and try not to recoil as she touches my forehead, because offending her could very well worsen my fate.

The maven speaks, bestowing her blessing upon me, and as expected, dark etching rush down my flesh.

There are a few gasps, because I hid my nature well. I can only imagine what they must think of me now.

Very few fringe magi are discovered during the tribunal, and the stygian are the most rare of all, because, over the years, the greatest of the magi have done everything in their power to thwart and stunt darkness from manifesting in the apprentices.

I look up and see that the maven mother’s lips have formed a thin line. She nods for me to take my place, and I obey, praying she’ll be merciful.

The uneasy looks the others cast me make me feel self conscious. It’s not fair for them to judge me when I never asked for this. Not that I wanted to deny it.

The truth is, I love the darkness and have dabbled in the words of the ancient stygian at every opportunity. I felt the call and couldn’t help myself, despite knowing the consequences.

And now, I must pay.

For curiosity.

It’s so unfair.

The dark knowledge that now envelops me serves as my only comfort. Though soon, it will undoubtedly be taken from me.

It’s not that darkness is bad, but as the mavens say, the stygians are the most likely to blur lines or defect to unacceptable practices.

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