First Year (The Black Mage #1)

“Look at the trees!” Ella exclaimed beside me.

I turned and was once again overwhelmed by the startling display before me.

The trees were shining. Every pine within a hundred feet of the Academy’s walls was shrouded in the same blue and purple mist as the Academy. It was surreal.

“It’s so beautiful,” Ella said softly. She squeezed Alex’s hand. “Thank you for showing us.”

I watched as my brother turned a deep shade of red. “You would have seen it eventually,” he mumbled, averting his eyes from my knowing grin.

Ruth pushed forward, oblivious to the awkward moment between her two friends. “Let’s see what it looks like on the inside,” she urged.

We were not disappointed.

The servants had lined the sandstone walls with the same combination of lights, and with the absence of torches and the magnification of the black marble floors, I felt as though I was part of a flickering orb myself. The pattern continued all the way through to the grand atrium where the festivities were being held.

Inside the ballroom, long transparent curtains hung almost romantically from pillars at each corner of the room. Twinkling stars glittered out from the many-paned window at the center of the stairs, and the stained glass ceiling shown magnificently against the soft violet lights of scattered globes. There was much less lighting here, and it created an ethereal setting amongst the grandeur of the stairwell and its spiraling rails.

All along the back of the walls were gold-clothed tables with platters of delicacies, cider, and tea.

The entire length of our stay we’d only been offered the barest selection of dishes since first-years were not, as one of the kitchen staff had pointed out, “valuable enough to use the finer stores on.” My tongue salivated at the display. With the exception of today, the servants had been on orders to only serve the array of fresh meats and cheeses to the masters and their apprentices in the private dining room on the second floor.

“Oh, it has been far too long!” Ella announced, dragging me with her to one of the tables. There was a long line of students ahead, but it passed quickly enough with Alex, Ruth, and Clayton following shortly behind.

After our plates had been filled, the five of us sat down to eat.

“Is this what it’s like at court?” I asked. I was feeling out of place among the grandiose dress of most of the Academy students. Out of the fifty-nine first-years that remained, only a third came from backgrounds similar to my brother’s and mine. Ella and Ruth came from outlying regions rather than a full life at the capital, but they were still highborn.

Looking at Alex, I knew I was not alone. My twin was dressed in simple beige trousers with an ill-fitted jacket that was too tight for his burgeoning frame.

My own gown was a simple forest green with a cinched waist of golden thread. It was modest in comparison to the revealing corsets of the others, years behind the current trends of billowing sleeves and extravagant skirts.

When my mother had passed the dress down, I’d been overwhelmed with its grandeur. I’d been thrilled to have such a fine possession. Now, next to Ella’s beautiful violet dress and Priscilla’s dramatic silk, my dress was an heirloom.

It was easy to see why someone would want a life at court. The dress Priscilla wore now made her look the part of a duchess. The smooth material cascaded down her sinuous form in rivulets. It shimmered and sparkled as it moved. Delicate lace fell freely from the girl’s wrists. Even her hair was elegantly coiffed with a single gold chain wrapped gracefully around her forehead.

I sighed, envious.

Ella followed my train of sight and then cleared her throat loudly. “Thank the gods Priscilla will never be queen!”

A couple feet away the highborn turned and glared. The look of abhorrence she shot my friend was enough to melt ice.

I couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Ella grinned. “What are friends for?”

Just then the string quartet by the stair started a new song. It was fast and jovial—something a lowborn could recognize.

My twin wasted no time in asking Ella to dance. She acquiesced most willingly. The two of them carried off onto the floor, spinning and turning in the crowd.

Others joined in too, including Ruth and Ella’s shy admirer, James. The couples continued to grow, including some faces that I didn’t recognize.

I realized after a moment that the new ones were older than the rest of us.

The apprentices had arrived.

Clayton sidled next to me. “Care to dance?”

I smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I never learned.”

“Now is as good a time as any.” His eyes were unusually bright. Something in them made me cringe, an unspoken question beneath the nonchalance of his request.

“Maybe after a couple more songs,” I said quickly. “I don’t think I have the courage to try it just yet.”