~ 1 ~
Convocation Academy inwinter tended to be grim. The nights were long and the persistent overcast made them exceptionally dark. That was one reason almost all the students, from the wide-eyed five-year-old kids to the jaded almost graduates of twenty, looked forward to Academy Founders Day.
Normally, Han would be one of those excited for the sleigh races, demonstrations of magical acumen, and the grand feast with all its many, once-a-year treats, but not this time. Though the decorations had begun to go up, with Founders Day just a few days away, and even though the twinkling elemental lights entwined around the evergreen boughs draping the long hallway should have lifted his spirits, his mood was as gloomy as the blizzard-dark sky outside.
“Han!” Iliana called his name, and just the sound of her voice brightened the hallway more than any brace of elemental lights could. He stopped so she could catch up with him, stepping out of the flow of students in the busy corridor and into an alcove where a big, stone-framed window looked out on the heavy snowfall. Technically it was early spring, but in Convocation Center, winter lasted a good half of the year. They had a couple of months to go before the frigid temperatures would relent and the snow give up in favor of rain.
Sometimes, though, it seemed winter would never end. Just like it seemed Han was doomed never to manifest as either a wizard or a familiar, forever an uncategorized student, despite his looming twenty-first birthday.
Deliberately, he turned his back on the window and edged a hip onto the padded seat, waiting for Iliana to wend through the last of the press. She was breathless, her cheeks flushed, warm brown eyes sparkling. Her waist-length hair bounced in fire-colored curls around her slender throat, highlighting her pale, freckled skin. “I was in my morning meditation class and didn’t get your note until I got out. What’s going on?” She took a longer look at him and her naturally sunny nature dimmed. “Oh no. You’ve been summoned to the Testing Tower again?”
“I think they’re triangulating,” he replied lightly, trying to make it a joke. He was sorry to be such a gloomy influence on her. “If the oracle head determines that I’m uncategorized enough days in a row, then they can just decide I’ll never be a wizard and finally boot me from general studies into the classes for familiars.”
“Maybe it’s the opposite,” she argued. “It could be the oracle heads are detecting that your brain is maturing into a wizard’s and they want to be sure to catch that transition. You know how they’re always gathering data on why that happens for some of us and not others.”
He smiled at her, despite himself, her vibrant nature warm with the House Ariel magical potential that made her so attractive to humans and animals alike. “And they worry about wizards spontaneously manifesting and burning down the dining hall before they remember their lessons in magic discipline.”
“That, too,” she replied impishly. “Though technically only the tables burned.”
“No doubt why Convocation Academy is built out of stone.”
“True.” She sobered, then took his hand in a rare gesture of physical affection. They were friends, and friends only, but the feel of her skin against his—along with her rich earth magic—sent a pang of longing through him. “Han, try not to worry so much. I—”
“No consorting,” the hall proctor instructed, pausing to study them with her wizard-black eyes. Han hastily buried any warmer emotions than friendship, in case the thought-seeker detected his prohibited desire for a fellow student.
“I’m comforting a friend,” Iliana explained, but she slipped her hand from his. The proctors could make life miserable even for wizards.
“Comfort him verbally, Familiar Iliana,” she replied wryly, giving Han a stern look. “No exceptions, even for uncats, M. Haniel.”
Han had long since objecting to the proctors’ insistence on using his full name. It was a grandiose name, one that reflected his parents’ ambitions that he become a High House wizard. Apparently, they hadn’t thought it through, that if their ambition was realized with a contract with House Hanneil as his mother hoped, that he’d become Haniel Hanneil and how awful would that be?
So, mostly he went by Han and only official, and officious types used his given name, which helped him keep in mind their power over him. “Yes, proctor,” he replied, trying to sound meek.
The proctor gave them one last penetrating look. “I believe you have somewhere to be, M. Haniel.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Iliana slid off the window seat and waited for him to join her. They entered the flow of students, some in chattering groups, others stalking along in silent aloneness. The latter were mostly older students, many of them newly minted wizards, showing off their distinctive short haircuts, thoughtfully eyeing their fellows, a predatory gleam in their eyes.
He and Iliana threaded through the crush in companionable silence. He’d always liked that about Iliana, that she didn’t feel the need to spill words into every quiet moment. He also really liked Iliana, in a way neither of them could afford, or were allowed. Even if he managed to manifest as a wizard, he wouldn’t necessarily be allowed to take Iliana as his familiar. The Convocation matched familiars to wizards based on the compatibility of their magical potential scores—and, often, on their likelihood of producing magically gifted progeny. That’s why romantic relationships were prohibited at Convocation Academy. The Houses sponsoring the students didn’t much like for them to develop relationships that might someday affect valuable contracts and business.
And Han manifesting as a wizard, after all this time as an uncat, was the best-case scenario. Most likely, however, he’d be a familiar, too. He and Iliana, both with zero control over their lives. So Han had never acted on his feelings for Iliana, and she’d never done more than her naturally affectionate nature dictated, warm hugs and fleeting touches. Of course, it could be she wasn’t attracted to him as more than a friend. They’d never discussed it. He liked to think they’d tacitly agreed to wait until their status had been confirmed by the oracle heads.
Some of the older students slept around—pregnancy wasn’t a concern as fertility had to be unlocked by an oracle head and disease wasn’t a problem as all students received free House Refoel healing while enrolled—and it was allowed so long as their emotions weren’t involved. Or weren’t detected by the thought-seekers. Most kept to themselves. Which was too bad, really, as this was the one time in their lives that having sex wouldn’t be connected to magic exchange.
Iliana, however, would never be the kind of person to have sex without her emotions fully involved. And Han didn’t want anyone but her.
They turned out of the stream of students going to classes and into the corridor leading to the Tower of Testing. It was set apart and heavily guarded, by spells and by actual guards. As they approached the guards standing at attention at the base of the stairs leading up into the Testing Tower, Iliana took Han’s hand again, slowing their steps. Surprised that she took that risk again so soon after the proctor’s warning, Han drew her to the side, out of the guards’ line of sight. “What is it?” he asked, noting her uncharacteristically sober expression.
“Han…” She didn’t finish, biting down on her next words.
He itched to touch more than her hand. If he could, he’d comb his fingers through her fiery curls, trace her freckled cheekbones with his thumbs. A sweet ache billowed in his heart, billowing like his native magic and pressing on the inside of his skin. “It’s just another test,” he told her, summoning a smile and putting all the confidence he could muster into it. “They’ve been testing me monthly anyway; this is just a bit sooner. Otherwise, today is no different from any other.”
She reflected the smile, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. “Meet me for dinner?” she asked, instead of saying whatever she clearly wanted to say.
He nodded, squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you there at the usual time.” Impulsively, he kissed her cheek, almost too shocked at his own temerity to truly savor the velvety feel of her skin, the freckles not palpable and yet he fancied they were like tiny sparks against his lips. He drew away again as fast as he’d darted in, finding her warm brown eyes wide, startled, and… sparkling with pleasure.
She held onto his hand when he would’ve let her go, just a moment longer. “Good luck,” she whispered.
He left her there, not looking back, happiness simmering through his body in place of the dread. Even the guards eyeing him speculatively as he entered the tower doorway didn’t bother him. Rumor had it that the guards had an ongoing betting pool, playing armchair oracle head, trying to guess which students would manifest as wizards, which would be relegated to life as a familiar, and when they’d finally be categorized. The guards were careful about it, and meticulously polite in how they treated the uncats, as were all the faculty and other staff at Convocation Academy. An uncategorized student might turn out to be a powerful wizard someday, possibly even the head of a High House, and no one wanted to be on their bad side.
