CHAPTER SIX
Here's To New Beginnings
FLINT
I woke up in a cold sweat. Heavy droplets top my forehead from a dream I can't remember nor care to. The feeling of angst pools into the knots of my stomach. I really am in Montana about to visit a campus full of god-knows-what creatures. Yet I can't talk much, I'm one of them too. Half dragon or human, I can light up a two story home with the snap of my fingers. Seems like a justifiable reason to say I have a good chance fitting in.
A light knock hangs in the air. Sasha's voice followed, "Flint, breakfast is ready. Are you up?"
"Yeah," I groaned, kicking the gray duvet off. "I'll be out in a minute."
I listen to the sound of tiny feet retreating down the halls. I head for the closet to pull a shirt from the racks. In the center of the closet hung Mythicae's infamous school uniform. I figured I'd have to wear something like that after seeing Sasha's picture. Back home, Amherst's public school didn't carry a dressing code or protocol. Dean or Sasha must've put it here this morning. I'm a heavy sleeper so it wouldn't be surprising if I didn't stir once. The uniform isn't horrible. That's a plus.
Black trousers, white button-up shirt with a deep aubergine-colored tie, tube socks, and a matching black blazer. The coat bore the academy's lion crest on its right chest pocket. The crest itself is a mixture of purple and gold embroidery. I noticed the lion had three heads and sprouting wings in its back. It was positioned on its hind legs roaring, flashing sharp fangs for all to see. I'll shit glitter for weeks if that lion is real.
I get dressed quickly. I'm surprised at how well the uniform fits. I would've thought they'd get my size wrong. Everyone does. Considering I'm six foot and five inches tall with broad shoulders, a wider chest than normal, and size fourteen in shoes. I was always mocked back home as a Goliath, but I'm more of a David compared to Dean. It seemed like everything was backwards and impossible. I should hurry. Sasha may be patient to wait on me, but her father won't if I gawk at a silly crest. I grab my duffel bag that I didn't bother unpacking and leave the bedroom.
I go to the bathroom first to relieve myself and brush my teeth. The smell of sizzling pork punctures the air making my mouth salivate rapidly. I wipe my freshly cleansed hands on a washcloth and join the two in the kitchen. Sasha is planted at the table with a plate drenched in pancakes and syrup. More maple than batter in my opinion. Dean turns to watch me, and I don't bother holding back my smirk. I'd never thought I'd see a giant wearing a pink apron with his hair pulled back. This is a moment Sasha should frame in every corner of the house. He looks ridiculous.
"Morning, kid." Dean grunts, "wipe that smug off your face and join us."
"Yessir." I said, smiling more as I sat beside Sasha.
My uncle saunters over. Dropping a plate of biscuits oozing with white peppered gravy, crispy golden hash browns, and a mountain of bacon. He grunts something about me needing to eat more when he returns with a glass of orange juice for me. We sat in silence. The tinge of metal tensils poking and scraping food off our plates annoys me. I could get used to home cooked meals though. Sasha breaks our silence- pretty sure it's in her nature. She leans forward, scooping a spoonful of fruit from a bowl onto her plate.
"I see you found your uniform!" She said, a hint of excitement slipping out. "You might want to leave your coat with dad when we dance tonight. It's the devil's armpit in the Oracle Hall."
Dance? Hell no, I don't care if I have to dress like a dumbass for a whole year as long as I'm not dragged to school dances. No one could convince me back in Maine to attend homecoming, Snowflake dances, Valentines, or Prom. Sasha will have to drag me to attend. The letter said it wasn't mandatory. I refuse.
"Don't give me that look," she pouts, "it will be so much fun. I promise! I'll introduce you to my friends! Piper will dance with you so you don't stick out…"
Sasha's bargaining fades out. I've never been good with these kinds of things. I guess you could say I get that from my dad. But I know my old man would encourage me to go. Not because I don't get out or socialize on my own enough- which I don't. But because I'm inches away from getting to know who my mom was. If I do things right, I can understand what a dragonling is and find out just how much of me is part beast.
"... The dance is just at the end anyways, and we don't have to stay for the whole thing. It's a feast for everyone. A chance to get to mingle with others and I promise-" Sasha's voice jolted when I nod my head to indicate a yes, "Really? Tonight is going to be so much fun, Flint! I can't wait for you to meet my friends!"
I find myself smiling at her sincerity, "you convinced me. You can breathe now, Sash."
She doesn't acknowledge the nickname. I expected a death stare or menacing growl, but the girl acts like she won the Jackpot lottery. Dean, however, is flashing a rich grin at our banter.
Sasha continues, "Piper and Blake will help me with escorting you to your classes until you get used to Mythicae's layout. I'll ask Verity too if you share classes with her. What's your curriculum again?"
"You mean the program assigned to me?"
"Um," she glances at her dad for a moment, "normally we get to pick out what we study. But considering it's a grant due to Aunt Jean, they might have been preselected."
I nod, inhaling the content of my glass. "Oh," I know I'm about to butcher whatever this thing means, "I think it's domy armoras. I don't know the language."
First, she humors me with a chuckle until she's gripping the table trying to suffocate a laugh she can't hide. It's Dean who steps in to explain. "The language is of what humans call Latin nature, but it's fae origin. You mean to say dominus armorum. It means weapon master. A perfect introduction to the art of defense, perseverance, and strategy. It was your mom's curriculum."
"So, is that what this Academy teaches? Just magic? I was supposed to graduate this year in five months."
Dean almost looks sympathetic, "funny thing about this place is that it's not some dock-shock high school back home, kid. Your credits were transferred and acknowledged as an early graduate from Amherst. Welcome to what you humans call- a university."
"That's not possible."
"Sure it is," Dean purred in amusement. "Look around, Flint. Anything is."
You got me there. If anyone told me a sliver of the last twenty-four hours of events was my life, I'd call them mad. Yet, here I am. Dressed like some rich hot shot about to head off to a school full of sorcery and monsters. All I can hope for is that the ladies are hot and the cafeteria has decent edible foods safe for human consumption. Or that humans in general aren't on the menu.
Sasha beams at me, "you're going to love it, and by the way, I'm older than you by a year and five months." My jaw dropped. There's no way she's eighteen. Sasha's got a babyface. I thought she was sixteen. She picks up my plate before retreating into the kitchen. Her tone is playful but her words shock me at my appalling new nickname. "Baby cousin."
…
After breakfast, Dean left the house and didn't return until half an hour later. Sasha and I busied ourselves playing a card game called Ruins. We don't have to be at the academy until noon anyways. This game though is lousy. Pretty sure she made it up because the rules keep changing, and I can't win shit. Something along the lines of wielding five cards of the same suit despite sequential rank. The goal is to make your opponent possess the lowest cards so your "kingdom" triumphs over theirs.
Dean made his way to us with his hands full. He dropped a heap of shopping bags in front of us. Sasha squealed excitedly pushing her set of cards to the side. She tosses a brown sack to me, and fishes shirts out of a glossy bag. Except the shirts she's set beside her aren't her size. They look like they'd swallow her whole. A pit forms in my stomach when I realize Dean's excessive shopping trip wasn't for her. It was for me.
"Did you get the ones I picked out?" Sasha quips.
The grumpy man who wore an apron an hour before nodded and then turned his attention to me. "Well, don't be shy. I need to know if I got the right size."
I glance at the bag in my lap realizing my palms are beginning to dampen. This must've cost him a fortune. The last time I received new clothes was when I still lived with my dad. I opened the bag. I don't know what I expected, but gratitude spills in my ribs when I recognize a shoe box. The sneakers I have on should've been replaced ages ago. They are tattered with worn wedges and matching frayed tongues.
I pull the box out carefully. Sasha and Dean are watching intently as I open it. Inside are the best dress sneakers I've ever seen before. Its sleek black leather design carried broguing details all the way to its medallion wingtip toe.
"Do you like them?"
I look up to see Sasha's anxious expression turn to worry. I untie my reliable shoes so I can try on my new shoes. They feel like heaven when I slip the designer shoes on. "I haven't had anything new since my dad passed," I said quietly. "Thank you guys. I really appreciate it. Everything."
Dean places his hand on Sasha's shoulder gently before settling his large frame beside her. He doesn't say anything. The smile on his face is all I need. Sasha pulls another bag forward and inches it closer to me.
"Here's to new beginnings." She said, watching me unveil a large backpack. "I checked the list of supplies you'd need for the weapon master course as well as the basics. If dad or I missed anything, don't hesitate to tell us."
She reaches over and hugs me. Stunned by her gentle embrace, I sat before them dazed. They went through the trouble to take care of me despite my skepticism. I find myself returning the hug and thanking them. Sasha helped me pack everything into the bag. It sank heavily into my lap from the weight of the new clothing and bedding. There's no way I can fit anything else inside.
"I can use my duffel bag-"
Sasha holds her hand up with a sly smile. "Baby cousin, you have so much to learn. Watch this."
I set the bag between us. She drags her finger into the air. Forming a similar circle like the one from yesterday.
"Leva meum onus."
I almost didn't hear her spell that she whispered. I watched in amazement when blue sparks sprung from the circle swirling around the black bag until it was absorbed in the material. When she opens the bag once more, I peer inside to see the items from before in a deep canvas. She continued to place the remaining items that Dean bought. I joined her by settling the photo I brought from home of my dad and I.
"How do you do that?"
"Magic?"
I nodded. I wonder if I can do it too.
Sasha smiled, zipping the bag shut. "I can teach you. It comes from within. You might have different limitations, but you're still a dragonling. You might even be able to transfigure."
I don't bother trying to pretend like I know what she's saying. She picked up on my confused expression, and pressed further. "Dragons shift to their human form. Which appears to be the opposite of you. You haven't transformed to your second form, but you have tapped into the elemental gift. Magic is within you too. The spell I used is meant to lift burdens. Try it now."
I picked my bag up expecting it to make my hands ache in its weight. It doesn't though. The bag carried the weight of a feather.
Sasha stands. Dusting her skirt off and kicking the empty bags littered around us to the side. Dean follows her pursuit and busies himself removing the bags. I pulled the backpack's straps over my shoulders. The nerves of becoming the new guy flood my system. I'm really about to do the damn thing.
"Are you ready to go?" Sasha asks, holding her hand out to me.
I nodded. The memory of her transportation trick from Myers's living room comes to mind. I take her hand, reminding myself to not squeeze it when she casts her spell. Dean, however, stands back. Sasha waves to her dad before telling him that she loves him. Jealousy pricked my side at the simple gesture.
"You two be on your best behavior," he ordered sternly. "Don't make me come up there. I'm too old for that."
"No promises!" She laughed, drawing her finger into the air once more to perform one last spell. "Dirige nos Salem."
The same sickening feeling palpitates my senses. The room thins into nothing only to be replaced with a valley of thick snow. There is no academy. No civilization for miles. Just open, empty land. I release Sasha's hand feeling the harsh breeze that crashed violently against us. It must be below freezing out here.
"Shoot," Sasha cursed, "I must've done it wrong. Looks like we'll have to walk the rest of the way."
"How far is it?" I grit out against the chills.
"About a mile."
Damn, there's always a catch. My balls will be frozen by the time we get there.