My mother gave me the name Zinerva when I was born. It didn't last. She said it was a pretty name for a pretty girl, but my father wanted strong boys with strong names. My father always got what he wanted. So my name became Fallon. Fallon Ó Siadhail.
The day I left to join the Clunaics at sixteen was the first time I left my father's estate. Sure, he presented me to society long before. I'd met people at my grandmother's funeral. My mother's. My sister's. All were held on the estate while my father introduced me as Fallon and dressed me in pants and a tunic. Only he knew I wasn't a boy. Everyone else who once knew died. It's unrelated, an unfortunate twist of fate. My father would probably say fortunate. The fewer people who know, the less likely my mission will be jeopardized.
The day I left to join the Clunaics, I began my mission in earnest. I suppose it was an honor to join our Kingdom's most Holy Warriors, but that's not why I was joining. I can't say I was particularly impressed with them. They didn't allow women, so they were the reason my father raised me as a boy. But after sixteen years spent training and preparing, I was ready to leave.
I rode alone in my father's gold-lined carriage to the city Asyobel. There, my official training would begin. I expected to be leagues above my fellow trainees thanks to my father's intense preparation. I was ready and had the scars to prove it.
I peered out the window. I'd never seen anything like the dark forest outside. I bounced my foot. I was doing this. Who knew what the world ahead held? But if I had known all that lay ahead, I'm not sure I would have left.
The carriage jolted and tossed me up. My head smacked against the ceiling before I crashed back onto the red cushions.
My hand flew to the ornate dagger at my side, but the driver called back, "Sorry, sir. We hit a root and the front wheel broke. I'll have us moving again in no time. Sit tight." My shoulders loosened, but I had been prepared for a world full of horrors, so I didn't release my dagger. That might seem paranoid, but it's what saved my life. Because, within a minute, a clawed fist burst through the door and made a swipe for my throat.
I swung my blade and it sunk into the palm. An inhuman shriek rang through the forest. My ears pounded and I jumped to my feet. Blood peppered the pale cushions as the creature jerked its arm back outside. Where was the driver? I could imagine him dead, drowned in a pool of his own blood. My skin prickled.
I kicked at the door, not daring to get too close to that thing. The wood splintered and, in the twilight, two demons crouched. Their fingers ended in razor-sharp claws, and horns protruded from stringy hair. Skin pulled so tight over bones that it split and puss oozed out. There was a rancid odor in the air. Mongrel demons.
One held its bleeding arm and hissed, flashing rows of needle-like teeth. I held my knife up. The other demon pounced.
I ducked and swung my leg in a sweep. It was more agile than it appeared and it jumped my leg. Long claws swung towards me and hit the dirt when I jerked back. It left long groves in the dirt. That could have been my flesh.
My heartbeat rapidly and adrenaline coursed through my veins. I clutched my dagger tight enough my knuckles turned white. I was fighting for my life, something I'd never done before.
I needed to calm down. I knew what I was doing, I was bred for this. The demons and I circled each other, creating enough distance I could think. Magic. I had magic and it was lethal.
I threw my knife at the uninjured demon and it soared true, right for its eye. For this to work, I needed time. I dropped to the ground and pressed my bare hands into the dirt. The demon twisted and my knife clipped its ear. My fingers dug into the Earth and I took a deep breath.
The demon snarled its pain as blood bubbled down its cheek. Its companion lunged.
With a scream, I yanked my hands up from the dirt and pushed forward. A wave of Earth obeyed me. Powerful as a tidal wave, it crashed over the demons. The creatures shrieked an ear-splitting sound that faded as the Earth swallowed them. I sat on my butt in the dirt, staring at the mound of Earth until the shrieks stopped entirely.
The driver stepped back onto the path. He trembled but was unharmed. I narrowed my eyes at him and stood on steady feet.
"Where were you?" I demanded.
He wrung his hands. "Sorry, sir. I couldn't disobey your father." My father? Of course. He sent demons after me, one final test to ensure his spawn was strong enough. I clenched my fists and ordered the driver to get the carriage functional. He simpered and scampered away. Technically, it wasn't his fault. It didn't make me like him anymore.
I motioned and the dirt mound peeled back little by little to reveal two demon corpses. They crumbled into ash, to be returned to the Demonic Realm. All that, and the demons would be back in our realm as soon as they found a tear in the dimension.
I picked up my dagger and climbed back into the carriage, on alert. Just as my father wanted.
*****
The city bustled with more people and action than I'd ever seen in my life. I registered at the Demonfall Center, where the carriage dropped me off, but it was a quick process, and trials for the initiation wouldn't begin until the next day. There wasn't much I could do for my mission just yet, the Monik had yet to arrive. A whole afternoon, all for me. I couldn't remember when I'd last had such time on my hands.
I stood on the stairs outside the Center, unsure where to go. I must have looked lost because a voice spoke over my shoulder.
"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" I spun, hand on my dagger. A girl about my age, but smaller with brown hair and dark eyes, leaned toward me. I leaned back. "You ever been to Asyobel before?"
I shook my head. I wasn't used to so many words, my father preferred silence. The girl's cream-colored dress swished as she jumped over three steps to land on the street. She twirled back to face me with a bright grin.
"I've got some herbs to collect from the market. You can tag along, if you want a tour," she offered. A thin silver cross was stitched across both her shoulders. A medic, then.
"Sure." I didn't have much else to do.
The girl reached out a hand and said, "I'm Mavie, by the way."
I shook her hand. "Fallon."
She tugged me down the steps and through the streets. "Fallon's a nice name. Are you here for the Initiation?"
I nodded. We entered the market, where shops showed off their finest wares in display windows, bakeries filled the air with sweet scents, and the bustle of shoppers almost deafened anything else. There were so many new sights and sounds, yet Mavie walked by as though they were the most mundane things in the world.
"Are you ready? I hear the trials are exceptionally difficult this year," Mavie said.
"I'm not worried," I replied. I'd spent my entire life preparing for the test, I wasn't going to fail them.
"That's great," Mavie giggled. "I know a boy testing tomorrow, and he's pretty worried. I'm sure he'll do fine, and I told him even if he fails, he'll still get to start training. But you'll do great. You'll be out there fighting demons in no time!"
I offered a hesitant smile. She talked so fast, every minute crammed with words. It was a lot to keep up with. She didn't seem to mind my silence, though. More space for her.
Ahead sat an enormous building. It towered over the others, casting a dark shadow. I stopped in the street.
Mavie lowered her voice and leaned in so her breath brushed my ear. "That's our church. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Impressive," I managed. I couldn't tear my gaze away. The windows were painted in vivid colors and depicted violent scenes. Angels, white wings outstretched to protect humans huddled behind them. Demons, practically dark cousins to the angels with black wings and horns protruding from their heads. An angel pressing a kiss to the forehead of a pregnant woman. A child bursting with mana, controlling several magics at once.
I'd read about the war between angels and demons long ago, of course, but I'd never seen it depicted so masterfully.
Mavie puffed up. "It's the biggest church in the entire Kingdom. Biggest angelite stone, too."
"For tithes?" I asked.
Mavie nodded. "The tithes are pretty steep, but you won't have to worry about them since as a Clunaic." My father had his own church on the estate, where our servants and I attended. We tithed our mana once a week, and it always drained a good deal of strength. It was a practice I wouldn't miss.
Mavie clapped her hands together. "There's a wonderful little shop down this way." I followed her. I wasn't sure if medics tithed. I had lots of questions about this strange girl.
"What's your magic specialty?" I asked. Technically, one could master several magics, but it took years and years of training. I only had a stronghold on the basic Earth magics and specialized in dirt.
Mavie laughed. "Plants. I'm mostly able to sense herbs, which is helpful when I go collecting in the Spring and Summer months. But I can't do much growing of my own."
"Plants are fascinating," I encouraged. Plants were loosely related to Earth, so I'd had a little training. I still hadn't had success in plant magic, though.
Her eyes lit up. "Aren't they? There're so many different kinds, and all so useful in their own way. And dangerous, too. If you're not careful, you can poison someone as opposed to ease their headache!" I raised an eyebrow. Her face flushed. "Not that I'd know from experience. I'm a great medic student, top of my class in fact."
A chuckle escaped me. It startled me, but in a nice way. I liked Mavie, and not just because she was the first person my age I'd talked to in years. She had an easy presence. Mavie stared up at me, a smile soft on her lips. She shook her head and pointed at a shop.
"There it is. They always have some of the rarer herbs. And lots of other stuff, so you won't be bored." The shop had a cozy look about it. Lanterns cast warm light and tapestries filled with color hung in the windows. We ducked inside, through a sheet of beads that clacked together. Bookcases lined every wall, and tables with jewelry and clothes and rocks were scattered about.
Mavie told me she'd be right back and darted off, leaving me alone by the entrance. I had a pouch of coins, though I wasn't quite sure what purchasing power each one had. Embarrassing, I know. But I'd never left my father's estate, remember?
I explored the little shop, running my finger down the spines of ancient books. They smelled of dust and decay. I passed from table to table, eyeing the rocks, jewelry, and bottles. They were beautiful, but nothing caught my interest. Until I came across a display of necklaces.
The necklace in the center of the display was made of black metal. A blue gem hung from the chain, with claws holding it in place. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad my finger trembled as I touched it. It was made of black steel, so it served no practical purpose. I had no reason to want it, but I did. I'd never had something frivolous, something all my own.
I took a breath. I was beyond my father; I could buy it if I wanted. But necklaces were for girls. It was why my father sold all my mother's jewelry when she died. And to join the Cluniacs, to become a Holy Knight, I had to pass as a boy. Still, I lingered. Father would be furious if he saw. The Initiation had not yet begun and already temptation pricked at me. I drew my hand back and turned away.
I couldn't let my father down, couldn't fail my mission. When Mavie returned from the back with a bag of herbs, I left without another glance at the necklace.
*****
The Monik was set to arrive around sunrise. I perched atop the roof of the Center before the sun began to rise, hours before the Commencement Ceremony. Once the trials began, I'd have little opportunity to collect information on the Monik. The leader of the Clunaics was a busy man, I had to take any opportunities I could. My father had made sure I understood that.
Down below, the occasional carriage drove by on the dirt road. If I squinted, I could make out the church. Further off, beyond the city, something even larger loomed. I hadn't been able to see it from the ground, but it stretched off for miles. A solid black wall with a guard tower stationed upon it. The wall had no end.
I sucked in a breath. The Dead Zone. I didn't realize it was so close. The wall of angelite guarded the largest rift between the human and Demonic Realm in existence. Nothing could close it. It was said that Lucifer himself had created it. Humans erected the wall back during the war between angels and demons to stifle the flow of demons into our realm.
A carriage rumbled to a stop outside the Center. I forced my gaze away from the Dead Zone. I'd see it up close and personal soon enough, no need to dwell on it now.
Below, a man stepped from the carriage. From my vantage, all I could make out was a gray head of hair with an enormous bald spot in the center. It could be him. I leaned over the edge of the roof. Unfortunately, the sun was not on my side. My shadow cast across the man and he looked up. I met dark eyes, mirrors of my own. A face with deep wrinkles. His white robe shifted and the silver symbol on the sleeves became apparent. The Monik. I pulled back, my heart racing.
After years of nonstop training, I was finally here. And yet I cowered. Zim would be ashamed to call me her sister.
No, I could salvage this. I called to the stone that made up the building and it lumped to create foot and handholds as I clambered down the wall. After I passed, it smoothed back to normal.
The Monik seemed content to wait for me, arms folded within his large sleeves. I jumped the last few yards and landed hard on my feet.
"Fallon," he greeted. He knew my name?
I bowed my head. Disrespect would not grant me the information I sought. "Monik."
"It's wonderful to see you here. It's been a long time since Ó Siadhail blood has tested within these walls," he said. "We're expecting big things from you."
I stiffened. This was not how I expected the conversation to go. Father claimed the Monik was a horrible man, who only rose in power because of his last name. A name we shared. "That's a lot of pressure to live up to."
"Your father is a brilliant man, and your mother came from a long line of brilliant magic users. I'm quite confident you'll survive the pressure," he replied.
This conversation was all wrong. None of this was helpful. And I wanted to ask about Zim. I needed to hear about her final days.
"It's good to see you again. I haven't seen you since the funeral," I tried. Controlling conversations was not a skill my father thought important to impart on me.
The Monik's brow wrinkled. "Your mother's?"
I fought against grinding my teeth. "No. Zimara. My sister." My sister, who died under your care.
"Oh, of course. Such a shame. She would have made a wonderful wife one day." A door swung open atop the steps and the Monik bid me farewell. I didn't try to stop him from going. It was all I could do to keep myself from shoving the old man down in the street and beating the answers out of his frail body.
A wife? As though her life would have been worth nothing if she wasn't a man's plaything. I clenched my fists. Sometimes, I was very grateful that my father pretended I was a boy. At least he understood women were not useless toys.
*****
The Commencement Ceremony was a blur of long speeches and even longer discussions of the risks we would face. A few hopeful initiate's faces turned green, but I'd heard it all before. I was ready to prove what a woman could do. Even if my audience would never know it was a woman doing it.
At long last, it was time to begin the test. For today's trial, we had to prove our athletic abilities. You had to be agile and strong to survive against demons. This would be a breeze for me. I'd trained all my life, and the only trial I had any concern over was the holy fire manipulation test. That was the only one I couldn't practice. The only one I'd never tried before.
But, I had to focus on the task ahead. No time for worries and anxiety. Emotions were a luxury I couldn't afford today. I didn't just need to pass the trials. I had to ace them so I could quickly move on to a Parish, a six-person team of Clunaics. If I merely passed I'd spend several months training before being promoted to a Parish.
My father expected me to achieve the highest score among my fellow initiates. I aimed to pass his score, which was only five points below the Monik's. The Monik held the highest score in history.
Anyway, I should explain what the agility trial consisted of. It began on a small bar of sand in a large pond of water. There was a single enormous log we had to shove down to make a bridge to a bigger island. I winced when one initiate tumbled off the log. His chances were gone, so fast. He shrieked as he flailed in the water. Apparently, he didn't know how to swim. He lost consciousness, but not life, by the time his body was retrieved. He was fortunate.
The other challenges consisted of swinging from ropes, climbing through trees, dangling by your arms, and leaping from branch to branch. Those that completed the challenge returned with arms scraped raw. Those that fell were left in worse conditions. I found myself having to stamp down more and more concerns as the morning progressed. In an unfortunate turn of the draw, I would go last.
A boy with olive skin and long brown hair leaned against the fence near me. I clutched the top rail a little tighter as another boy missed his mark and fell thirty feet into the water. He landed on his back with a smack.
The boy beside me shook his head and clicked his tongue. "He'll be walking with a limp for weeks."
"Obviously." I shot a sidelong glance at him but didn't move. The patch on his shoulders marked him a current Cadet, not a new initiate. He had been through this trial before but had not yet graduated to a Parish. I tilted my head to study his face. Clean-shaven, strong jaw, dagger and sword at his side. He was on the thinner side, but all muscle. "Did you pass last time?"
The Cadet laughed. "Oh no. I wouldn't still be here if I'd passed. I was totally unprepared a year ago." I narrowed my eyes. He must have failed miserably to still be here. They would likely make him retake the entire test to prove he'd actually improved enough for combat. He rolled his eyes. "There are a couple of us former failures testing again."
"From a year ago?" I asked.
"No, I'm the only one from then. They offered for me to test six months ago, but I wanted the extra time. Another failure would mean permanent removal from the Clunaics," he replied. His words swam in my head. He talked almost as much as Mavie.
The handler called a new name. "Flynn Seznec!"
The Cadet–Flynn, I supposed, gave a little stretch. "Guess that's my cue." He winked. "Good luck."
I scoffed. Luck had nothing to do with tests like this. It was all based on ability. I paid extra attention to Flynn as he leaped onto the sand bar. I was curious. Since he had failed once before, I didn't expect much. But he moved with such grace, like a fish flowing with a gentle stream.
A boom from the Timer, part of his combustion magic, sent Flynn off. He didn't even bother with the log. He just jumped. The gap between the sand bar and the jungle island was large. I gaped as he stretched, suspended over the water. He landed without a sound and scurried up a rope like he was born for it. He didn't only have grace on his side, he had strength too.
By the time he made it to the halfway mark, I was sweating. He was so much faster than everyone else. I would have to be even more swift. He didn't slow, not even when the course rose fifty feet into the air. He swung from branch to branch like the trees were his home.
I gripped the fence so tight my knuckles went white. A misstep. He snagged the next branch by one hand, fingers curled. I held my breath. Would he fall? I couldn't say I'd mind. But with a shift of his weight, Flynn found his hold. I sighed. He finished without any other difficulties, unfortunately. His time must be insane. I wouldn't know for sure until the next morning.
I practiced jumping, testing whether I could bypass the log too. It shaved precious seconds from his time. It could do the same for me. I bit my cheek. It wasn't worth failing to shave those seconds. I would need a perfect run, no mistakes, to be the best.
Flynn approached. I stood stiff. He grinned. "Impressive for a failure, right?" he asked.
I crossed my arms. "Did you come to taunt me?"
He frowned. "I'm not taunting you. I'm sure you'll do great. When are you running?"
"Last," I admitted.
He nodded. "Watch out for the thin branches without bark, they're a bit wet. Makes for some slippery stuff."
Did he think I looked weak? Scared? I was none of those things and I didn't appreciate the implication. "I'm not a novice. I don't need your tips," I stated.
He shrugged, not at all offended. "You're not nervous?"
"Of course not," I said.
"Then why are you doing that with your hands?" He asked.
I paused and realized that my hands had been clenching and unclenching. "Because you're irritating me," I spat.
He raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. He enjoyed riling me up! I turned my back on him and took a deep breath. He would not get another rise out of me. Not today.
I closed my eyes and steadied my breath. The scent of water and wood filled me. Footfalls pattered against the grass as Flynn finally left me alone. Thank goodness. I focused on the feel of mana within me. I felt it in the dirt beneath my feet.
When I opened my eyes, I was sharp and certain, as always. I couldn't believe I'd let such a boy get under my skin. It wouldn't happen again.
The handler called my name. I jumped to attention and strode over to the sand bar. I shook out my limbs and dug my feet through the sand. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the glimpse of a shock of brown hair. Flynn. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a glance.
BOOM! I shoved the log down and was across it in two bounds. Up the rope. Twist my body until the rope swung far enough. Grab the next rope. Repeat. I made it through the rope section of the trial with ease. My confidence grew as I moved. I knew what I was doing. It was nothing I wasn't excessively prepared for.
From the final rope, I soared into the tree branches. I scurried up like a squirrel. I pulled myself along, feet barely finding purchase before surging on. Up, until the water below was distant and the people small. I moved from tree to tree with twists of my body. I was breezing through this. I had to be going faster than Flynn.
I landed on a platform before the next portion of the challenge. I drew a breath, and then launched myself up to the log that stretched above my head. My arms stung against the bite of ragged bark. I swung myself back and forth and, once I had enough momentum, leaped to the next log. My feet dangled and I looked down as I settled my grip. The water blurred beneath my gaze. I swallowed. I had never been this high before. I shook it off and soared to the next tree. This time, the branch had been cut thin and bent from my weight. I dug my fingers in. Sweat dribbled down my forehead, my back, my stomach. I couldn't afford the seconds it would take to catch my breath.
I swung and released the branch. The next branch was cut much the same. I sunk my fingers into the stripped branch. There was no grip. I slipped.
I twisted so I slammed into the tree truck, catching myself after dropping a few feet. A scream boiled in my throat. I hugged the tree tight as I pushed myself up it. My face burned from the friction, but I wouldn't risk loosening my grip. I reached back out, grabbing a secure grip and swinging back into motion.
The whole thing had cost maybe ten seconds. I spewed every curse under the sun. Luckily, I was too far away for anyone to hear. No one wants a Holy Knight with a dirty tongue.
I salvaged the run. I landed on the ground on the other side of the pond and my knees buckled. Everything burned, from friction or overuse. I wanted to groan, but that would make me appear weak. I forced myself up. I stared at the timekeeper, begging the angels for it to have been enough. The timekeeper simply hurried me out of the way. I'd have to wait until the morning, like everyone else. I really wanted to know right then.
Ahead, Flynn chatted with another Cadet ahead. I could not deal with his 'I told you so' right then. I was hot and sweaty. I needed a cool bath and a private room. Unfortunately, I would have to make do with a bowl and washcloth in a room crowded with a bunch of gross sweaty guys. I started up the path towards the Center, praying I had been fast enough.