Page 10 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)
I made my way towards the eastern exit of the college for Intro to Earth Wielding.
Earth magic is always taught outside, rain or shine.
Memories of sitting on my mother’s lap, listening to her stories about when the school allowed earth courses indoors resurfaced.
After several incidents, the final straw was when an elemental produced an oak tree from the classroom floor, breaking through the ceiling and making the entire college wing unstable.
The eastern wing was closed down for months.
Stepping outside, I was immediately stunned by the harsh evening light.
A tall stone wall enclosed the space dedicated to earth-wielding but was large enough to host a small forest, a vegetable garden, and a pond.
Three groups of cadets were already in the yard, so I began walking, hoping I hadn’t missed too much of the class.
I passed an older professor giving pointers on how to speed up the growth of plants.
He motioned for a student to step in front of the class and attempt to increase the size of a small tree.
Not my class, probably second-years. I continued and found another group of cadets hanging on vines they created out of thin air, attaching them to the trees within the small forest. Third-years.
Finally, I spotted Tatum and Laney cheering with the rest of the group at the back of the yard.
Nudging my way through the crowd, my jaw dropped when I realized what everyone was hollering over.
Cleo was in the center of the crowd with a young professor at her side, twisting her hands in a complex motion, growing a sunflower taller and taller.
“She would be the first one to channel,” I grinned.
“I think it’s badass! Go Cleo!” Tatum cheered.
The remainder of the class consisted of every first-year cadet testing their luck.
Cleo was the only one to channel her element successfully.
As the sun set, we were dismissed. My quad was the last to leave the yard, too busy fussing over Cleo and bombarding her with questions about how it felt to channel.
It was the most I have heard her talk since initiation.
We had another amazing meal that I will forever remember, and then we departed for our chambers for the night. I followed behind my friends up the turret, passing other cadets descending with arms full of novels. “Hey, where did you find those?” I asked a cadet with a face full of freckles.
“The library!” she squealed. “It’s even more beautiful than I had imagined.”
I nodded as they continued downward and then paused on the step. Laney stopped at the door to our floor. “Scar, you coming?”
“Do you know where the library is?” I asked her.
Laney smiled, and I knew we wouldn’t be heading to our bedchambers early tonight.
She called over her shoulder, “TT, Cleo. Want to join us on a trip to the library?”
“Meh!” Tatum groaned as she continued walking into our dorm.
“Pass,” Cleo said, following Tatum.
Once we passed through the library’s grand archway, I was instantly struck with awe.
Mageia’s library is the largest room I’ve seen, with a vaulted ceiling stretching three levels up.
I craned my neck to admire the beautiful ceiling above.
It’s painted in deep shades of blue and adorned with cascading vines that hang parchment lanterns from them.
The temperature is cool and controlled, proving the testament of the efforts to preserve the books. There is a dormant fireplace on the bottom floor of each corner, the warmth being unnecessary during the summer months but would provide the coziest feel in the winter.
In the center of the room, an extraordinary round staircase spirals upward, winding its way around the trunk of a majestic weeping willow.
Its cascading branches gracefully hang over four bridged walkways, leading to the second—and third-level bookcases.
Soft breezes gently stir the tree branches, their movement barely audible—a soothing background to the tranquil atmosphere.
“Isn’t it fascinating?” Laney’s eyes sparkled.
“This is the most magical place I’ve ever seen,” I murmured with a starstruck smile.
Laney skipped up the central staircase, and I followed, taking in every intricate detail entwined in its design.
She exited onto the second floor and brushed her fingers along the books on the shelves as she hummed.
Her daily enthusiasm is infectious, making it seem like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
She stopped at one section, standing with her finger on her lip as if searching for something specific.
“What is your favorite genre?” she asked.
I hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve only been lucky enough to get my hands on maybe ten books in my lifetime. All of them were nonfiction.”
She stared at me, puzzled, then reached high on her tiptoes for a novel with a deep blue leather cover. Handing it to me, she said, “Here, it’s one of my favorite stories. ”
I took the book and read the cover aloud, “ Throne of Steel . What continent’s story is this about?”
“Oh, no,” she giggled. “It’s fiction. But it is a series, so if you like that one, we can come back to get the others for you. The female character in it is my role model. I think you’ll like her too. The series as a whole inspired me to join Mageia and put my badass-ery to good use.”
“Deal,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “What are you going to get?”
“I’ve been searching all over for this novel called Helpless . It’s got a real ‘beast gets the beauty’ vibe. Aha!” she shrieked. “Found it! Now let’s stay up all night reading and ignore being responsible and well-rested for tomorrow.”
We practically ran out of the library, books in our arms, eager to dive into our new fantasy worlds. Slipping quietly through the hallways, we passed a group of uniformed men when I overheard a name that struck me straight in the chest.
“Captain Thorne will not be pleased,” one of the men said as we walked by. I stopped in my tracks.
“But did you tell him about…” another began, but his companion cut him off once he noticed my sudden halt. Embarrassed, I quickly turned and hurried to catch up with Laney.
She was talking a mile a minute, utterly oblivious to the name I had just heard.
Thorne. Captain Thorne.
It couldn’t be.
Could it?