“This place gives me the creeps,” Everett whispered as a full-body shudder came over him.
“I’m sorry, are you talking to me now?” I asked, raising a brow.
“That was just an out-loud observation,” he retorted.
The door to the chamber opened, and a thin body appeared, dressed in a dark grey hooded robe that swallowed it whole, hiding any discernible features.
“Ah, she finally arrives,” they said with a flat, unimpressed tone.
I hadn’t even made it into the chamber yet, and I was already making a terrible first impression.
Following the arcana master, we entered a dark, mysterious hexagonal chamber. The scent of burning sage hung heavily in the air, while near the domed ceiling, the walls were lined with black candles of varying sizes, stuck in place by ages of wax accumulation. Solid-wood shelves lined one wall, covered in all manner of tomes, parchments, and coloured glass vessels filled with various liquids and solids. A golden chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, runes inscribed upon it, as what appeared to be the night sky floated above it. Across from me, at the back of the chamber, stood a tall, four-sided glass box. Beside it was a large dark-wood desk littered with writing instruments, measuring implements, and fist-sized crystals.
“You may leave us now, Guardian. No need for you to stand around and gawk,” the arcana master uttered, dismissing Everett.
“It would be my pleasure,” Everett responded as he made his way out of the chamber door.
The arcana master stared at me for what felt like minutes before they finally spoke. “You are the one who has come from the human realm. The one with the unknown arcana. I am supposed to find out what is special about you, assuming there is anything at all.” Their tone mirrored the apathy I had heard from so many others since entering this realm.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied, shifting my feet.
They waved their hands, ushering me forward. “Well, come over here, then, so I can take a look at you. I don’t have all day.”
Scoffing under my breath, I made my way over to the desk, where the wraithlike being stood. Dread and unease filled me as I was about to find out just how mediocre I was. I had grown so accustomed tohiding myself and my abilities from others that the thought of having them laid bare gave me anxiety. All I had ever wanted back home was to proudly be myself, so why did the prospect of being seen for what I was scare me so much?
A thin, bony, pale hand reached out toward me. Startled, I took a step back.
“Give me your hand,” the robed being demanded.
Hesitantly I took a couple of steps forward. Rough, cold, paper-thin skin wrapped around my hand and pulled me even closer, with more force than I’d thought this being was capable of. Holding my hand out, the arcana master pulled a shiny object out of their robe pocket, and before I had time to register what was happening, I felt a hot, stinging sensation in my palm. Deep red blood was welling in a large gash.
“Ow! Why the fuck did you do that?” I yelled, trying to pull my hand away—the arcana master’s grip was unyielding.
“Settle down, you little fool. It doesn’t hurt that much. Now hold it over this bowl. Hurry, before you make a mess everywhere.”
I took a deep breath, doing my best to steady my temper. “It does when you aren’t expecting it,” I snarled through gritted teeth.
I held my hand out over the small crystal bowl now at the edge of the desk—several drops of my blood pooled at the bottom. The arcana master then held my palm up to their face and licked my wound. I pulled my hand away with all my might, the master releasing their grip on me. I looked at my blood-smeared palm and was shocked to see the deep gash start to close up.
“Where I come from, people ask permission before licking someone,” I snapped, with equal parts annoyance and disgust.
The arcana master shuffled to one of the shelves and grabbed a large jar. “We are not where you are from, so it is irrelevant what you practise,” they said as they shambled back to the desk. They immediately changed the subject. “This is called a blood-and-water rite.This is moon water, blessed by Nyxenia herself. By adding a few drops of your blood to this, we should be able to figure out if you have any arcanal powers. On the off chance that you do, we’ll also be able to figure out what element you are most proficient with.” The arcana master grabbed another small crystal bowl, took off the lid of the jar, and scooped out some of the moon water.
The liquid had a slight glow, and glittery particles settled within it. The arcana master grabbed the bowl that contained my blood and slowly poured it into the moon water. We both stood there in uncomfortable silence for several moments, waiting for something to happen.
“How long does this usually take?”
The arcana master ignored my question as they continued to stare at the bowl, as if they were willing it to do something.
“Something is not right,” they mumbled to themselves.
They hurried over to the shelves and grabbed a few more bowls, then came back to the desk. They repeated the process a few more times, and each attempt ended with the same result as the first.
“Are you going to explain what is happening?” I finally asked, annoyed at the wall of silence I had endured throughout this stressful process.
Exasperated, they pulled back their large grey hood as they turned toward me. I gasped in shock at the face of the being standing right before me. Long strands of wispy white hair clung to the sides of their head. Their cheeks were sunken so profoundly that their papery skin looked like it was about to tear. Two clouded eyes stared at me sternly.
“What are you?” they whispered, a question more for themselves than for me, as they reached out and placed a cold, bony hand on my cheek.
