Bloomsbury Academy :)

Chapter 1

This was the year I could finally find out who I truly was. Now I know what you are thinking: "Find who you are?" Aren't I supposed to already know? You see, where I am from, you do not get to find out who you truly are until you are sixteen. Why sixteen? I have no idea why. But it is my sixth birthday, and I am finally about to find out what tribe I fit into.

There are five primal magics. Water: they control the tides; many can even form water without having a source near them. Earth: controls the roots and everything Mother Nature provides. Sun: they can use the sun's ability to burn through flesh and bone. My mother told me stories about them and how they used their abilities to burn their own people if they disobeyed. Night: the tribe everyone stays away from; they are known for their merciless armies and powerful symbols. Unlike other magics, they can channel without having to charge their energy, making them even more deadly. Last, but certainly not least, Storm: my family's tribe and, according to my mother, my only option. They can wield the power of storm, and many can even form energy waves powerful enough to create electric power sources.

I look up at the sprawling keep in front of me; inside is supposed to be my destiny. But why does a part of me want to run and get as far away as possible? Maybe because I know that if I do not get Storm, my mother will shun me from the family, and I will be forced to start a whole new life—one I did not ask for. I cannot tell if I am excited or scared; it is a mixture of both. Yes, it must be. My mother made me put on the Storm tribe's colors. God, she is persistent. I am wearing a tight deep violet halter dress that sits just above my knees and accentuates my curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. My hair is brushed back into a severe-looking bun, which is giving me a terrible headache, and I was forced to wear 4-inch heels, which make me look like Godzilla!

The hall reminds me of The Nun; the walls are painted a dark crimson, and there are pictures of lords and nobles hanging on carefully picked-out picture frames. I look to the left wall and then the right and snort. They all look like English admirals. Turning back to face the hall, I see nobles all seated in brown leather chairs and servants scattered around every row holding plates filled to the brim with Swiss cheeses, seeded crackers, and strange tropical fruit. Up ahead sits the stage where the chancellor stands preparing the blade that is supposed to slice my wrist and tell me where I belong.

Great, the urge to sprint out of here is back again. I look to my mother, who is standing next to me in a tight dark purple long-sleeved top with a matching long skirt that is tight all the way down. Her deep brunette hair is tied in a sharp-looking braid. I still do not get how everyone in my family has brunette hair and I ended up with my deep red waves that in some lights look like the color of velvet.

My mother looks at me with the same look she always has: stern and calculated.

"Sydney," she says my name slowly, like it is rubber on her tongue.

"I need you to understand that the only option is Storm. That when that blade slits your wrist and your symbol appears," she points with her long black acrylic nails, "that you will not see me for over a year, and in that period, you will attend 'Bloomsbury Academy' and you will achieve the top marks in every subject, so that I can be able to call you my daughter without a foul taste on my tongue," she says sharply. I swear she sharpens her tongue if that is even possible.

Her words seemed to slice through me, but taking their time like a blunt knife. I clear my throat and plaster on a smile; I cannot let her know how she affects me. The only thing my mother respects is strength. Guess that is why my sister is her favorite. She could not even be bothered to show up today like this is not the most important day in my literal life!

The chime of bells interrupts my thoughts, kicking me from my haze of aggressions. I follow my mother to our seats, which just happen to be at the front. I roll my eyes. Like people do not already know your powerful mother. I take my seat, fixing my dress and folding my legs as the chancellor begins his speech.

"Welcome! Today your children's fates will be placed into the hands of the gods," the chancellor says in his deep rusty voice. "Each child will receive a symbol on their wrist." He raises his wrist, showing his sun rune, which is a sun blazing down on a girl who is kneeling as her skin burns off. A shiver creeps up my spine.

"When your tribe's symbol appears, you will be escorted to your clan leader!"

I look where he points his long, too-skinny fingers; there stand the four clan leaders, all in their tribe's colors: blue for water, gold for sun, black for night, green for earth, and violet for electricity.

"Please assort your children to the stage for their awakening," he screams.

I go stiff; this is really happening. I slowly stand as I feel my mother's hand on my shoulder, guiding me up on shaky legs. My breath feels too tight, like my limbs are expanding beyond their limits.

"Pull it together, girl," my mother whispers to me.

I straighten up a little; I can do this. I am not some fragile little girl anymore.

I start walking towards the spiraling staircase where the other kids are being led by their parents. I look back at the stage as I climb the stairs; there are about twenty of us. Most are wearing plain whites to indicate they are yet to have a clan. I look down to my tight violet dress. God, I feel like such a poser. The only thing good about Bloomsbury Academy is I can finally dress how I like. I miss my miniskirts and stark leather jumpsuits!

My mother tugs me up to the top of the stairs, then turns me to face her harshly. "You listen to me, girl. Understand that if you choose to embarrass this family, I will happily make sure your name is wiped from all records leading back to me."

I give up at her. Is she serious? For frick’s sake, cannot she just hug me or something? Not give me another speech about how pathetic my life is to her. All I can get myself to do is a tight nod, but she is already walking down the stairs, leaving me. I get myself into position in the line. I am third in, the middle of a tall boy with bushy curls and a girl with bright platinum hair. The boy offers me a smirk, which I return with an eye roll.

The guy with the bushy curls walks over to the chancellor with way too much pride. I look at the ancient blade that is supposed to slit my wrist and shiver; it is sharp as hell and covered in symbols, some I recognize as blood magic. Blood magic was banished from this land centuries ago after the last blood wielder killed the sun tribe's leader, sending the clans into the worst war ever.

The guy winces like a baby when the knife touches his wrist— not so cocky now. I peer like the nosy bitch I am and see a water wave form on his wrist. Water Nation. God, he will fit right in; they are all cocky bastards. But I will not deny I have had a couple of good shags from Water Nation guys.

The guy howls and grins as he descends the stairs to his tribe leader. Next up is a girl dressed in a tight white strapless dress and big muscles. Sun tribe. She will be one hell of a soldier.

Next is, holy shit, me....

Suddenly, I think I have lost the use of my legs, my whole body freezing up like when a deer sees a predator. I can do this—

I feel rough callused hands practically pick me up and push me out of the way. Who just—? Suddenly, my breath is lost again. The person, or should I say guy, that just pushed me out of the way is hot. He is tall; I am guessing about 6'2", tan, and covered in lean muscle. His hands and arms are covered in veins. God, I am a simp for veins! His hair is black and cropped short. But fuck, his eyes are my favorite part; I could watch them for hours. They are a deep green that curve into a sharp grey. They remind me of everything Mother Nature is, the good and the bad. Like stepping into a whole new world. He then turns around and walks straight to the chancellor.

I break out of my haze. Shit, how long was I staring for? Does not matter anyway; even though he looks like a Greek god, he is a bloody jerk! I hop back in line, now officially last! Great, my mother will not let me hear the end of this. Ugh! I watch as the blade slices his wrist, watching for a hint of a wince. Nothing, which makes me wary of who this person truly is.

I look at his wrist as a shadow symbol forms: Night. That makes so much more sense; his eyes were like a storm that was destroying everything Mother Nature created. I watch as he walks over to the night tribe leader, a tall, terrifying guy with symbols lathering his arms.

I watch for what feels like hours as everyone steps up and gets their symbol. Then finally, it is my turn. This time I am ready; I step up before I back down again and open my wrist. The chancellor offers me a nod and then presses the cold blade to my wrist; I do not flinch even though it hurts like a motherfucker! I look down at my wrist, praying I get Storm.

I watch as slowly a symbol forms on my wrist. Dark red erases my pale skin, forming a droplet with cursive whipped writing swirling around it.

What then? This is not right. I look up at the chancellor, but what I see on his face is not what I expected; he is horrified. I hear the clang of metal being dropped and see he let go of the blade.

"What is happening? What did you do to me? Why isn't anyone speaking? Hello? Hello?" I practically yell, looking around frantically.

I look over at my mother, but her face is completely unreadable, so no help there. I look back down at the symbol on my wrist; it is a droplet painted a deep red with strange foreign words circling it.

I look back over at the chancellor, who still looks just as dumbstruck. "Please, someone, what is this? Am I cursed? Did you curse me?" I say, directed at the chancellor.

Finally, he meets my eyes. "How dare you!" Next thing I see is his hand flying at my face; I quickly duck away, just missing a full-blown slap directed at my cheek.

I look at him, bewildered. What? The chancellor looks just as surprised at the fact I could dodge that. I am still grappling with how I managed to as well.

A deep cold voice cuts through the air like a wave of ice. "This girl is a message! She belongs to the night clan. Like the old days, she could be a message from 'Codar' himself!" Codar was the last blood wielder.

This cannot be possible; this must be a symbol glitch or something! The owner of the voice speaks again, and I finally meet his eye. I knew I recognized that deep gurgly voice. The Night leader, "Niko," declares, "She must be detained to the night house. As tradition goes, the last blood wielder was a part of The Night tribe; they are a long lineage leading back to us!"

The chancellor finally speaks, "You fool! Do you know nothing of what this means? She must be burned to the stake! This puts everything we have built at risk. She is an abomination who can turn on us at any second, and we would not be able to do anything!"

I look at the chancellor; they want to what? Burn me? What they are accusing me of is beyond my control! Also, complete rubbish. I am no blood wielder; I cannot even hold a sword! My weapon of choice is always throwing stars, and you know why? Because they make me look like (what).

Niko speaks again, "You are the fool if you think burning her is the solution. This is a message from the gods that our choice to kill the last blood wielder was a mistake; they have given us a chance for redemption!"

I snort at how stupid that sounds, but the fear of dying won over. I do not know what is worse: being a slave to the most ruthless tribe leader or being burned alive while people throw insanities at me.

The latter is winning only because I can escape and live in the wilderness; all my dad's lessons on how to survive in the wild will come in handy.

The chancellor speaks, "We must discuss this in private; this isn't something to be taken lightly. With that said, girl, and the other new students, file out at once!"

Before I can register that my life is about to be handed into the hands of the most self-centered people on the continent, I am pushed out the door with the others.

I just stand there frozen, running through a thousand different possibilities in my brain about how they might decide to kill me: by acid? Or hanging? Or—

"We should just kill her now and get it over with. I bet we would all be rewarded with gold and endless pleasantries."

My head whips up to the owner of the voice, which is none other than the curly-haired guy, whose name I found out is Malachi.

"What the fuck did you just say?" I snap.

Everyone turns to me in utter surprise, including the mystery guy with the dangerous green eyes. But he is still as unreadable as a brick!

Malachi growls in my direction, "Shut your mouth; you're nothing but a pretty face. You do not deserve to have the power of blood! You are an embarrassment—"

That is it. I have had enough of being treated like a piece of powerless crap today. My first fly is rapidly and precisely to his nose, sending a whirlpool of red oozing down his face.

"Never speak to me as if I'm weak—"

I am cut off when he roars with fury and grabs me by the hair, sending a shockwave of pain through my skull. But luckily, I am trained for this.

I grab his nose and bang it against my forehead, smirking when he grunts in pain. I get down quickly as he comes at me again, trying to grab me by the throat, and scissor kick him, sending him tumbling like a mountain to the ground.

I am about to punch him in the guts when I feel a strong warm hand tug me back by the waist.

A gasp flies out of my mouth at the sudden change of temperature; it is like whoever this is not affected by the coldness of the room.

I feel a warm breath on my ear and flinch at the closeness.

"Careful there, red; you can't kill someone in orientation."

Suddenly, I am spun around forcefully and am met with dark emerald eyes surrounded by grey. It is this guy again.

I try to shove his hands off me, but he holds on tighter, sending jolts of pain up my arm, but I do not wince.

"Interesting," he says in a gravelly voice, trailing a finger up the side of my dress. I shiver under his touch, which makes him smirk.

"Get your hands off me, you jerk!" I shove him off, and finally, he lets go, but reluctantly. Interesting.

"Watch your words, Princess Red; you might get yourself in trouble," he snaps.

I gape at him. Princess Red? He has a nickname for me already, and I do not even know his name!

Suddenly, our moment is cut off by the opening of the door. Shit, I completely forgot that this might be my last day alive. I spin around.

The chancellor completely ignores the scene of Malachi on the ground, still moaning from pain.

"Sydney, you are requested. The rest of you stay put and wait for further orders."