Children of Arcana: Chosen

[Before We Begin…]

Hello. You don’t know me yet, but you will. Welcome to your first journey into the land of Draeona (Dry-YO-nah) and all its wonders. This story may frighten some, even yourself, as it is read. If you need to place this documented journey down at any moment, do so. Our scribe never wished for those reading our stories to become traumatized or triggered.

A list of general warnings: dysphoria, gender, mental health, abuse, abandonment, bullying, racism. Please note that these are the most commonly appearing topics amongst our dialogue and individual journeys. Take care of yourself and learn our story at your pace.

-C.

Prologue: A Brief Introduction

Tírana, Jinra

“And legend has it, Jinra played a big part in helping the Dwarves. We gave them supplies and sometimes extra hands like soldiers and medics,” said the tall man.

“That doesn’t sound real!” shouted a young, black-haired girl with a scoff. She smirked at her father’s supposedly historical story. “I know Jinra wasn’t part of the war,” she stated proudly.

“I never said it was or wasn’t, El.” Father smiled. “But that’s what the school says. They say that the Land of Shadows started it all.”

El crossed her arms in a huff. “Dumb Dark Bloods,” she muttered. Father looked at her and she murmured a half-hearted apology. Núrala only ever gave Wizards a bad name. Everyone knew that. “They’re trying to come back, Appa,” she commented.

“Come back? What?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “Yeah. Silver and Uren were talking about the Royals coming back.”

“Honey, that’s just a rumor.”

“Is that so?” Father simply nodded. “It’s time to sleep.”

He laid her onto the bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Now, do you want an actual bedtime story?”

“I’m okay,” the child. She snuggled into the blankets as he tucked them beneath her chin.'

~~~~~~

Elure, Land of the Mortals

Arthur stared as his mother walked around his half-empty room. Her face had a bittersweet smile. Paler rectangles stained the walls from where his posters had been; the bed and dressers had been stripped of their items. He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder as she turned around, holding the letter in her hand. It’s only boarding school, he thought. She’ll still get to see me. She could visit if she wanted. Not like I’d be much to see. Arthur put on a smile and gave her a warm hug. “Hey, you’ll see me on the holidays, Mom,” he assured her with a small chuckle.

She returned the act. “I know, but you’ve never been away for this long.”

“I’m 13,” he replied, “I think I can find some help if I need it.” He let out another laugh. “I’ll get better at my skills and then come back and make sure you and Carter have everything you need.” He reached for the rolling suitcase and adjusted his bag strap. “I’ve got a train to catch.”

“Right,” Mom said with a sigh. She grabbed the duffel bag and followed him to the living room. He gave his usual casual goodbye to Carter and Mattie, who were working on another one of their zany projects, and then proceeded to the car. His mother joined him in the driver’s seat.

At the train, he hugged her once more before boarding. The train was quiet—contently boring, but comfortable. Arthur caddy-cornered himself in the seat to rest his head in the corner, zipping up his hoodie and tying the strings of the hood to turn it into a scarf. He woke up to the gentle tapping from the conductor; his stop had come. Giving the man a groggy nod, he rubbed his eyes and took his backpack from underneath the seat. Time to see the new school.

Deboarding the train led him to a raised stone platform amidst a tree line. A woman with long brown hair waved for him. “Arthur McKinley?”

“That’d be me.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Come with me.”

He shrugged. At least if I die, it’d be by a pretty person, he told himself. She looked over her shoulder with a childlike grin. “I’m so happy you’ve come to our little school. I’m the Den Mother of the Holistic School of Study in Núrala, Shae. Do you know why we took you in?”

“Not really. Mom said I had to hone my skills.”

“She’s right, in a sense. You’ve got magic in your blood, Arthur. And this is a magical school. Welcome to Draeona.” Shae smiled widely as she spun on her heels with a gleeful look to the sky, her arms outstretched upwards. He looked closer. Her hair had strands of grey intermingled throughout; her dress was long and fluid, like water, sharing a similar color scheme to the ocean. She wore golden clips at either side of her head that were etched in the shape of owl faces, the dangling feathers of them woven into the tresses on her head. She looked almost ethereal.

“So, you’re a… principal?” he asked calmly.

“In a way,” she said, walking away again to where he assumed was the school. “I don’t use the term ‘principal’ or ‘headmaster.’ They’re too formal for my tastes. I want to be close to my students, more like a mother, and so I’m called the Den Mother of Heisn. That’s the short way to say HSSN.” She ended with a giggle and a light hop in her shoes. She really was much like a child, but in a comforting way.

The two walked in a content silence for a while, her steps making her bounce lightly like a fairy. She turned on her heels again, eyes sparkling and cheeks creasing with a grin. “Wanna see a trick?” she asked.

Trick? Wasn’t it trick enough to not tell me I was magic upfront? “Sure.”

Shae took her hand and lay her palm against the wood of a broad-trunked tree. A misty portal appeared on its surface, “Let’s go! Unless you’re scared,” Shae teased in a singsong voice. She stepped through the portal, fading away. Arthur cautiously stuck his left hand into the vortex; he was welcomed by a soft coolness on the other side. It was impressive to say the least—teleportation without two doorways. He squeezed his eyes shut and walked through, expecting to tumble into a space of nothingness. Instead, he was met with solid ground and the same cool breeze from before. “Welcome to Heisn.”

He opened his eyes. In front of him was a well-disguised castle built into the face of a mountain. Its spires blended in behind the tree line, the gate could’ve been mistaken for tall hedges. What kind of school doesn’t want to be found? Looking more closely, Arthur saw the castle lines clearly: tall, symmetrical spires, thick and dark wooden entry doors, ivy-climbed walls adorning lacy patterns. “How old is this place?” he blurted out in a whisper.

“About seven centuries now,” Shae said casually. “Castle Dryven has served as the main building for Heisn since the beginning. I hope you make yourself at home here.”

Not like it’ll matter, but okay.

[Part One: Setting the Stage]

The world is not always nice in the ways we expect. Its only consistency is in its lessons.

Chapter 1: Shaky Beginnings

Jinra, Land of the Wizards

The alleys were filled with scrappy shanties that somehow stood on their own. They expanded into the outskirts of Tírana, gradually expanding the city. Young El breathed a small sigh of relief, walking out of a windowless hut. Thankfully Tírana is artisan country, she thought, pulling the curtain pieces closed in the entryway before heading out. The teen double-checked her outfit: ball hat, bomber jacket, carpenter’s jeans… everything seemed to be in place. Maybe I’ll land the jackpot today?

“Well, whaddaya know,” called Copper. “If it isn’t my favorite pireláu. What’s got you outta the house?”

“Supplies,” El replied curtly. “Don’t make me regret talking to you.”

“What’s with the look?”

“Out of my way.” Copper planted himself into the pavement with a hard-set stare. El grunted. “I mean it ginger dirt.”

“Says the girl whose hair looks like ginger beer. ‘dya dye it that way?” Copper’s stubborn response elicited an indignant growl from her. She wound back a fist with grit teeth.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” asked a strange man. El changed her target; the man caught her strike with ease. “Nice reflexes, little lady.” He gave a warm smile and released her fist before shifting his gaze. “Copper, is it? Why are you bothering this young lady?”

“W-we’re friends,” he stammered.

The man seemed unconvinced and turned back to El. “Miss, please allow me to escort you.”

El rolled her eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m sure. But I don’t mind.”

“No thanks,” she barked. The man then nodded and stepped to the side, staying between her and Copper. She gave him a look. “That’s it?”

He merely smiled.

“You’re letting me go?” She nodded. El began looking for costume changes. The man lowered his head in a bow and walked away. She glared at Copper before begrudgingly running over. “No funny business, got it?” she grumbled to the man.

She was met with silence. El looked in the shop windows as he escorted her where she wished. Each sign was fun and unique, resembling the craft used to decorate the insides. She sighed as she gazed into Clothier Cyril’s.

“May I ask you something?”

She shot a fruitless glare at him. “Shoot.”

“Do you get to eat much?”

El’s fist slammed into the side of his ribs. “Rude much?” she barked. He clamped his arm against his chest with a grunt and a grimace.

He then took a breath. “Okay, I didn’t word that well… Nice hit.” He steadied himself and stood up. “Since we started this. Do me a favor? Try to take me down.”

El scoffed. This guy has GOT to be crazy, she thought. “You want me to hit you again?” He nodded. She let out a low breath and flung her shots. Each swing was dodged, reversed, or blocked by the stranger. He finally lifted his free hand and lightly tapped her forehead.

What the…? My limbs…

“Passion, focus, and fire,” he said while smiling. “You’re quite a talent. Where’d you learn to fight like that? You almost had me a couple times!”

She didn’t say anything. Her muscles were still frozen.

“Please, follow me?” he said gently. He snapped his fingers. Her muscles released.

“Why?” she said with a glare.

“The name’s Richard,” he said, pulling a business card from his inside jacket pocket. “I see a lot of potential in you.”

“Do I have a choice here?”

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Serious.”

El narrowed her eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

He looked at her calmly. “My full name is Richard Lee Mills, the Third. I am the Dean of Admissions at Tumbletown Magical Academy and I think you’d be a good fit for our Early Recruitment Exam.”

“Yeah, okay,” she replied sarcastically.

Richard gave a small snort. “Fair enough. At least take these,” he said, adding a folded paper to the business card and holding them out to her. “I’m on my way to a meeting. But, please, keep them. Use them whenever you see fit.” He smiled again. “Have a good day. Farewell!”

~~~~~

Jordan bounced happily between the bar and the dining tables. The sound of people chatting happily, and the light atmosphere was enough to make anyone smile. One’s kingdom didn’t matter in the café; it was one little place of peace and equality in such a time of separation.

The entry bell chimed lightly. “Chásta!” Jordan called, turning on his heels. A young lady stood awkwardly in the doorway. She looked around uncomfortably. He noticed her worn-out clothes, how her hair had some matted portions, the scars and bruises on her skin, her lightless expression. “How can I help you?” he asked cheerily as he approached her.

She averted her gaze, shoving a small folded paper at him. “It says to use this here…?” she mumbled. He took the paper. ‘Jordan’s Café’ was written on the outside in a familiar, shaky script.

That’s odd, he thought as he opened the hastily scrawled note. He pocketed his friend’s note and swiveled towards the host’s booth. “Here,” he said, holding out the menu. “Any meal you want. On the house.” She took the menu warily. That’s to be expected. Jordan chuckled and raised his hand. “Honest. I can spare one meal.”

He guided her to an empty two-seater table. “Call me over when you’ve made up your mind. I have to tend to my other tables.” He flashed her a smile and bounced off.

She glanced his way before scouring the menu. Why would I be sent to a restaurant one town over? she wondered. Eilly sighed. Well, it’s a free meal. She walked up to the bar after finishing. The man stood at least a head taller than her; his arms were full sleeves of tattoos. His hair was pulled into a tight, curly ponytail. He joyously interacted with the others on the barstools. The man’s gaze fell on her. “Hello again!” he chirped.

“Hey. Why’d you help me?”

“Hm? We outcasts have to stick together,” he said, cleaning one of the glasses casually.

“Jordan, you ain’t no outcast!” said one of the men at the bar. “You’re one of us!”

“Yeah!” called out another customer. Jordan chuckled and waved off their comments.

El clenched her fist inside her pocket. “Who said I was an outcast?”

“You did. Just now.” Her face reddened. “Relax. Wizards have to look out for each other. Jinra’s small compared to Elva or Droú.” He turned to the waitress. “Kiki, you and Dye keep watch. Okay? Be right back.”

He slipped out from behind the bar and walked out of the restaurant beside Eilly. When they finally stopped their mini journey, she noticed they were in a different store. “Why’d you bring me here?”

“I don’t offer jobs in front of my clients. It takes away from their good time,” he said rationally. Eilly’s face contorted into a look of confusion. Jordan chuckled. “Eillianna. The combination of eill and yena to mean ‘powerful female’. I’d say it fits you well from what I’ve heard.” She pulled her dominant hand back for a punch. “Relax. I’m not here to fight you. As creepy as this all seems, Kiki and Dyelon needed a steady place to restart, too. They’re fine now, but they decided to stay.”

Eilly raised an eyebrow. “How do you know all of this? How do you know my name?”

“Your note. Rich scouted you, and good on him to. Plus,” he paused with a smirk, “You don’t mask information well.”

A blade of fire was then inches from his throat. “You’re not one of them, are you?”

Jordan’s carefree image then faded. Her blade was snuffed out instantly. “I’m what you call a neutral party, kiddo.”

“So, who are you then?”

His smirk returned. “I like your spunk. I think you’d be fun to work with and I could always use more staffing. If you think you’re up for it, the shop can have a quartet.” The thought of the man’s sincerity was unusual. He glanced to his watch. “Well, I have to get back. Come back if you want the job.”