Crisanta Knight: Eternity's End

CHAPTER 1 THE AWAKENING-3

Sigh.

I had always tried to put on a brave face for my friends. Since I’d returned, that habit had been working on overdrive. They often looked to me as a leader and I was a leader in this conflict with the antagonists. With our foes only building and so many plot lines racing toward fruition, I really needed to be last-semester Crisa—that confident, make-no-apologies girl who led with power and the firm belief that she was strong enough to stay good no matter what her ailments and adversaries threw at her. But last-semester Crisa had not checked in at orientation, and she would not be on the roster for classes tomorrow. In her place would be this-semester Crisa, and I didn’t know what she was going to be like.

I entered the wide corridor intersection that housed the Treasure Archives. Book’s most valuable historical relics had been displayed here for decades—everything from the axe that Blue’s brother-inlaw had used to cut open the wolf that swallowed her sister Red, to one of the glass heels my mother Cinderella had worn when she first danced with my father.

I paused in front of a case. My reflection mirrored in the glass as I stood at eye-level with the ruby apple that had poisoned Snow White. The dangerous snack sat on a pedestal, angled to highlight the small bite the princess had taken out of it. Because it was magic, the apple had stayed the same all these years—an unspoiled gem unaware of all the heartache and headache that this realm had been through while it just sat here laughing at time.

I unexpectedly felt anger and frustration boil inside of me like bouillabaisse. The apple felt like this school did to me at the moment—a perfect and preserved, shiny thing that had no idea how much rotting my soul had gone through outside these walls . . .

Suddenly, the apple began to rot before my eyes—the glossy red skin shriveling into a brown glob. What the heck?! I took a brusque step back and saw my eyes in the reflection of the glass, fluxing with gold and black energy. I gasped and subconsciously grasped at my chest where my heart was supposed to be. My eyes reverted to normal and before the apple could disintegrate completely, I stretched out my hand.

“Life.”

My fingers and fractures glowed mildly with gold energy and the dying apple became consumed by the same light. The fruit rapidly revived, returning to its original shape and bright, healthy color as if nothing had happened. I lowered my hand, magic dissipating as my eyes darted left and right. Thankfully I was alone. No one had noticed my slip.

Despite that relief, my stomach churned. Worrying my magic was unstable and that I was more vulnerable to it taking over was one thing. Actually experiencing that was indefinably worse. In one instant, my dreads from the last few days had become concrete. I’d known my magic was way more powerful and would likely be more easily triggered by instinct or emotion. I hadn’t realized until now just how fast that could activate. I was going to have to be really careful . . .

I hurried the rest of the way to the banquet hall. When I finally slid through the enormous open doors, the warm illumination of dozens of candlelit chandeliers offered a welcome change from the colder lighting of the corridor. Gold flatware, porcelain china, and long-stemmed goblets reflected the light in small rainbows. Garlands of crystals draped from vases full of fragrant lilies.

Students sat at five long tables. Atop a stage to the left, our professors dined along a sixth table while watching over us. Out of the entire populace, only one person noticed my entrance. Lady Agnue, our headmistress, met my eyes from her place at the center of the teacher’s table. Always the picture of sophistication, her burnt orange dress was regal, her jewelry was understated, and her brown hair was pulled back in a half ponytail featuring loose curls.

Lady Agnue’s eyes held mine a moment before she nodded. I returned the nod then eased my way down the aisle between two tables toward my friends. The other girls were so immersed in backto-school, how-was-your-summer chatter that they didn’t seem to notice me as I passed. Sparkly dresses, lavender table runners, and shining jewels filled my peripheral vision as I hurried along to keep it that way.

When I spotted my friends at the end of the row where we usually sat, a smile slid across my lips. They’d saved me a place at the otherwise full table even though they thought I wasn’t coming. That—truly—was friendship. It lifted my heart enough to carry on my everything-is-fine façade.

“You came!” Girtha exclaimed across from me as I slid into the empty chair.

“There was a rumor that stuffed pork chops are on tonight’s menu,” I replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t miss that.”

Blue put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. I nodded to Mauvrey then turned to Marie and Divya on Girtha’s right. “How were the peace talks today?”

Divya Patel—the youngest of our group—put down her glass. Her normally large bright eyes, striking against her light brown skin, squinted from tiredness. It seemed getting up early to attend the talks while balancing being back at school would take some getting used to.

“It was spirited, I’ll say that,” Divya commented.

“All parties have been getting on better recently though, and we are starting to agree on some larger issues,” Marie Sinclaire chimed in. The circles under her eyes reminded me of the illustrations I’d seen of her grandmother, the heroine from the Princess & the Pea famous for sleepless nights. They contrasted Marie’s pale skin and short, white-ish blonde hair drastically. She had not adjusted to her demanding schedule yet either.

“Are you guys really going to be able to keep up with the talks and school? It seems like a lot,” Blue commented, noticing the same.

“The other emissaries agreed to adjust our meeting schedule to accommodate us. Instead of meeting every weekday like we did in the summer, we shall now meet on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” Marie replied.

“That’s good news.” I nodded. “When can I come sit in?”

She and Divya glanced at each other, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t like the way their faces changed as the question lingered.

“They do know I’m back, right?”

“Oh, they know,” Divya said. “When half of our group went on the quest to save you, we had to be partially honest and explain you’d been captured by antagonists. They were a bit concerned about your present state now that you’re back, but we told them you were fine.”

Fine.

Sure, let’s go with that.

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked. That’s when I noticed the other empty seat beside Blue. “And where’s SJ?”

“Probably still with the Godmother Supreme,” Divya replied.

My face dropped. “I’m sorry?”

“SJ did not tell you about their new understanding?” Marie asked.

I stared at her then turned to Blue.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she said. “You two have hung out since we got back to school. I assumed she told you.”

“Told me what?”

Blue scrunched her nose. “You should really hear it from her. I’ll just say that she probably won’t be joining us because she usually has dinner with Lenore after the peace talks.”

Why would SJ be spending non-mandatory time with Lena Lenore? The Godmother Supreme and I were on better terms now, but we’d been enemies for a long time. I rubbed at my genie cuffs. They were linked to a miniaturized genie lamp that Lenore wore around her neck. The outcome of my Pure Magic trial last semester made her my designated “master” for the foreseeable future. Her lamp could call me and contain me no matter how many kingdoms were between us. And although I could use my power with my own free will, if she gave me a magic-related command, I always had to obey.

“Fine. I’ll talk to SJ later,” I said. “But back to my previous question—what’s the problem with me coming to the peace talks? Don’t tell me they’re still angry that I killed all those rebels. It was self-defense. Those people were bad guys and Lenore made me do it.”

Truthfully, I would have used my magic to kill them even if my genie cuffs hadn’t forced me. They’d deserved it. But I didn’t mention that to the others.

“I wouldn’t say angry is the word,” Divya replied. My petite friend self-consciously twirled the long braid of dark hair that hung over her shoulder.

“Crisa.” Marie looked at me sternly but sympathetically. “As I said, we are finally making progress in the peace talks. You remember how things were just a few months ago with all those rebellion attacks plaguing the realm and distracting the Fairy Godmothers and higher-ups? We cannot risk a backward step now, not with the antagonists becoming so bold.”

I did remember. All too vividly. The people that the “Author” didn’t choose as protagonists were blanket labeled “common characters.” Over time, groups of commons had grown tired with how much favor protagonists received in Book and that distaste had boiled into volatile rebellion. Last spring that had escalated to coups, assassinations, kidnappings, and attacks, including on my own family castle. In response, Lenore, the Fairy Godmothers, and I had magically beaten down the rebels for a while until I advocated a change of course.

I frowned, processing what Marie implied. “Are you suggesting that I would deter your progress? I’m the one who proposed the peace talks in the first place. I’m the one who convinced Lenore and the rebel leaders to give moderation a chance so we could try to work out a way to coexist.”

“I know,” Marie said, tone soothing. “And they know. Nevertheless, they do not really know you. While we have developed positive relationships from continuously meeting, to them you are still the princess who can kill a room full of people without getting out of her chair.”

I blinked.

“Divya and I did raise the subject of bringing you in,” Marie continued, “but the majority felt that you are too much of a wildcard to introduce into the process at this point.”

Another blink.

“Don’t take it personally,” Blue commented. “I’ve never attended for the same reason. Our friends serving as protagonist reps in the peace talks are more even-tempered, so they’re better suited to this kind of diplomatic thing than we are.”

“Exactly,” Girtha agreed. “I’m not offended by not being asked for input.”

My fists clenched on the table. “But you’re not in line to be queen of your own kingdom. I am supposed to be good at this kind of thing.”

“The rebels and higher-ups haven’t seen that side of you though, Chief.” Girtha shrugged. “What they know about you has a lot to do with heated emotion and homicide.”

The same anger and frustration I’d felt in the Treasure Archives stirred within me. How was I supposed to prove to people I was different if they didn’t even let me in the door? I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of my emotions.