Page 5 of Beastkin
My father was exactly where I expected him to be. He was seated behind his massive oak desk, surrounded by ancient grimoires and artifacts of questionable origin. The study smelled of sandalwood and old parchment, a scent that had once comforted me but now felt suffocating.
“Phoenix.” He didn’t look up from the text he was reading, his silver-streaked dark hair falling across his forehead. “Sit.”
I obeyed, perching on the edge of the leather chair across from him. The pendant felt heavier with each passing moment, like a collar around my neck.
“Widdershins has changed since my time there,” he began,finally meeting my gaze. His eyes were the same unusual amber-orange color as mine — the Emberwood legacy. “It’s become... progressive.” He spoke the word like it tasted foul on his tongue.
“I’ve heard,” I replied carefully.
“The current administration has allowed monsters to infiltrate what was once a sanctuary for our kind. They claim it’s for unity, for peace.” He closed his book with a snap. “But we know better, don’t we?”
I nodded automatically, the response drilled into me through years of lectures.
“Your mother and I have worked very hard to ensure your placement in classes that will keep you separated from the more... unsavory elements.” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. “But you will inevitably encounter them. When you do, remember who you are. Remember your bloodline.”
“I will, Father.”
He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small leather-bound journal. “This belonged to your grandfather. It contains spells that aren’t taught in any classroom, protective measures against those who would corrupt our magic through their very presence.”
I accepted the book, feeling the weight of generations of prejudice in my hands. “Thank you.”
“One more thing.” His voice hardened. “It’s come to my attention that there have been some recent…developmentson campus. Developments that have led to the Purity Front being perceived in a bad light. It’s best if you keep your pendant concealed when you can. Don’t show it to anyone you don’t trust. In fact—” My father reached up, giving his hand a wave in my direction. The moment he did, the pendant and its chain went invisible. “There. That should keep it out of sight until winter break.”
“Thank you, Father,” I replied automatically.
“Now that it’s invisible, you won’t have a need to take it off. So, your mother and I will expect to see it reporting back to us at any time.” He leaned forward, his right index finger tapping a smallcrystal sphere on his desk that was filled with a soft green light. “We’ll be checking in now and then.”
I forced my face to remain neutral, despite the sick feeling in my stomach. The amulet felt like a noose around my neck, invisible but tightening with every breath. And now I couldn’t even lose the damn thing without them noticing. So much for that plan.
“Of course, Father. I understand.”
He studied my face for several long moments before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw there. “Good. Your mother and I only want what’s best for you, Phoenix. The world is changing in dangerous ways. Our kind must stand together.”
“I know.” I shifted my bag on my shoulder, eager to escape this room, this house, this life. “Is there anything else? The portal opens in twenty minutes.”
He stood, straightening to his full height. Even at eighteen, I still had to look up to meet his eyes. “Make us proud, son. Remember that every choice you make reflects on the Emberwood name.”
“I will.” Another lie to add to the growing collection.
He embraced me stiffly, the formal gesture of a man who had never quite figured out how to show affection. I returned it with equal rigidity, counting the seconds until I could step away.
When we separated, he handed me a small velvet pouch. “Your travel token. It’s attuned to your signature only.”
I pocketed it without looking inside. Portal tokens were standard for new students, enchanted objects that would transport me directly to Widdershins’ receiving grounds. Mine would be expensive, no doubt, customized with our family crest and various protective enchantments.
“Thank you. I should finish getting ready.”
He dismissed me with a nod, already turning back to his books.
I managed to maintain my composure until I reached the safety of the hallway. Only then did I allow myself a single, shuddering breath. The weight of the invisible pendant seemed to increase with every step I took toward freedom.
Back in my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, closing my eyes. Eighteen years old and still being treated like a child. Still being monitored, controlled, molded into their perfect little heir. But not for much longer. I’d figure out how to escape one way or another.
I moved to my desk and retrieved the one thing I hadn’t packed yet; a small photograph, worn at the edges from years of handling. In it, two boys stood arm in arm, grinning wildly at the camera. One was me, skinny and awkward at ten years old. The other I had no recollection of whatsoever.
I traced his face with my finger, wondering who the boy in the picture was and what had become of him. It was undeniable proof that some of the dreams I had must’ve been memories. But I guess I was just too young for them to stick. It had been more than eight years since we moved to the new estate and I still couldn’t recall the boy or any other friends I’d had at our old house. But I supposed that’s what years of intense magical training did to a person. When my brain needed to be full of spells and incantations, memories were tossed aside and forgotten to make room.
I tucked the photo carefully into the inner pocket of my jacket, close to my heart. It was one secret I’d managed to keep from my parents all these years. And it felt important, though I wasn’t sure why.