Emberfall Academy

Emberfall Academy. A place of dreams and a haven for nightmares.

Stay in the A range and you’re fine. Dip down to B and you’ve got some extra work. C and you’re gonna have to pick up some dodgy tasks to get a grade boost. And a D? Oh, you’ll end up like me, forced to summon a demon for the university’s patron.

This is how the university able to offer so many scholarships and not be government funded or in debt. In other words, this is only for the scholarship kids. People like me, who actually have a dream. A dream that their parents don’t support.

“It’s crazy how many times you’ve done this.” Lettie tried to smile. It came out a mess of teeth and lip. She still looked beautiful, even with the way her smile faltered.

“Yeah, I suppose there are very few students who are fully fluent in dead languages, let alone ones on a scholarship. I think you’re also just lucky that all the other ones up to this point didn’t need a second summoner.” Meagan replied

Lettie liked her style. Tight tank tops and low jeans. It worked well with her body and her face. Meagan had those features where she couldn’t really smile. Her full lips remained in a line, and her large eyes seemed unable to curve. Maybe it was the number of thick lashes, or just the amount of makeup she wore.

She looked through one of the few windows as they passed. How was she going to get out of this one?

The glass was frosted and only hinted at the colours and shapes swaying outside. A dot of red stole her attention. She halted for only a moment before heading to the window.

A ladybug. Bright and shiny, like a new Chevy. “Aw, we need to get you out. You must have come in one of the open doors.” As in the last one that was open, about five minutes ago.

“We don’t have time Lettie.”

Lettie’s soft blonde locks fluttered about her face as she looked for something. Ah! A screwdriver. Another tool left like Cinderella’s slipper as the clock struck five. To be fair, the contractors were probably coming back tomorrow.

First, she picked up the poor thing. She’d learned that windows were held in place by putty. At least, old ones like these were. She scraped and the hundred-year-old putty crumbled away. A small crevice formed. She poked until there was a small hole of chipped glass and scraped wood leading to the outside world.

She closed one eye and looked through. The flowers waved invitingly. There were delphiniums, larkspur and hollyhock catching the last of the evening sun. She placed the bug back on the white windowsill and trusted it to return outside.

She dusted off her little blue dress. It was her lucky one. It went perfectly with her golden blonde hair. It frizzed up when not kept in her usual careful curls, but it just made her look like barbie’s baby sister on an adventure.

The hallways stretched out before them. An old wing of an even older building. The stonewalls jutted, almost wonky, with a chalky stone. It was cut at time when the university found hardship, before their scholarship program.

“Did you know that it’s guessed that the source of the superstition of lady bugs being lucky comes from farmers-”

“Fraser teach you that?” Asked Meagan.

“No, I knew- oh, the window. Yes.”

He used to be the worst know it all she’d ever met. But he taught her a lot. How to ride a bike, and even how to drive her car. That was an adventure and a half. He was even the one who taught her the names of all the flowers.

“You’re not into him, are you?” Meagan’s voice was slow, like she was testing the waters before she dived.

Lettie smiled; her face always seemed to glow with the hint of one. “No!” She giggled, letting herself slip away from the dinginess of the building. “I’ve known Faser since I was born! His father is our family doctor.”

“Why not?” Meagan’s voice returned to a sly pace. “He’s perfect. Going to be a vet. He’s handsome. Smart. And kind.”

They all came from the same high school. Surely, she hadn’t liked him since then? No way. He was the ugliest duckling. Lettie still loved him, even then. She had to admit that he did get very attractive when he grew to fit his hollow features, the sharpness to his face and the way shadows seemed to enjoy him. “He’s like my brother.”

Meagan snorted.

“Really!” Lettie raised her eyebrows to Meagan. “I saw his penis once. Like six years ago. It was tiny.”

He’d probably seen her naked a dozen times too. He was her favourite person in the world regardless. Even with his tiny penis. She laughed.

“They shrink you know? They’re not big unless they’re turned on. Maybe he’s a grower.” Meagan hummed. “If you don’t want him. Could I have him?”

“Um, I mean... He’s his own person.”

She couldn’t say yes. She didn’t even know why. He wasn’t a toy to be had. At least not by Meagan.

Their feet tapped on the hard wood floors. If the few and far between, windows shone ghosts of sunlight on the dark stained timber.

The other places Miss Simmonds had them visiting made her sneeze like she was dusted in privet pollen. They also made her skin ache from the constant goosebumps and shivers. Why did Miss Simmonds even think finding old grimoires would do anything?

Lettie believed in many things, but not that a book could summon a demon to do your dirty work. Her and her family were Greek, not stupid. This was the real world. Magic didn’t exist.

Although she did believe bad things could come about from messing with the supernatural. She’d heard of studies where this happened. The thought made her shiver.

“What’s different this time?”

Meagan tapped on the leather satchel swinging at her waist. “Nothing. Well, this is the first ritual that specified two people.” She snorted and pulled out the book. “The woman is just desperate at this point. She’ll try anything.”

“Fair enough. I heard that her dad is cutting her off because she won’t marry some dude. Or at least that’s what my sister said.”

Meagan palmed through the yellow pages. “I think it goes a little deeper than that. Apparently, she- Oh! I found the ritual she wants us to use.” Meagan leaned toward Lettie, bringing the book closer to than comfortable.

Lettie in response jumped back like a cat off a wall. “Meagan. Please. I don’t believe in summoning demons, but I believe it’s bad luck to be touching a book made from someone’s skin.”

She’d heard a story about a distant relative who’d touched someone’s tarot cards without permission. From that day, she’d heard things in her house. No matter how many times she moved, it followed. Lettie decided that she’d just become a nun at that point.

They finally came to a door. It was full of knots from an old knobby oak. The handle was crystal, like every other door they had passed. A little sign was neatly nailed in. ‘Chemistry Room 1’.

Meagan tried to hand the book to Lettie. Meagan sighed at the way Lettie shook her head like it was the last time she could say no. Instead, she balanced the book on one hand and twisted the knob with the other.

Lettie made the sign of the cross. All of this to pursue her dream of studying fairytales? She did find it ironic, with how closely they could be tied to superstition. If only her parents supported it. They wanted her to be a model like her mother or have some kind of respectable job.

True to the name, it was a chemistry lab. Shelves lined the walls. They were void of all but dust. The tables were lined up against the wall. They held stacked chairs off the wooden floors. The renovation meant it hadn’t been useable for the last year. The date of completion had been pushed back several times. According to Fraser, they had issues with council on several occasions.

In other words, perfect for the school’s patrons to use for suspicious activities.

In the corner, a cupboard sat towering over the other furniture pieces. It was scarred and etched. The dark wooden doors were brooding, ready to groan at their opening.

The main bulb flickered once, then twice. She was sure it was telling her to go back. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t know morse code.

Behind the teaching podium, contrasting the blackboard, stood her.

Lettie formed her mouth into a smile with ease. Girls from her family did not snarl.

Miss Simmonds watched them walk in; her eyes hard on Lettie. Watching her scream when meeting her black cat Lucky was funny. And asking to meet her on Friday the thirteenth. Yes, Lettie hid much behind her smile but not how she feared broken mirrors and spilling salt.

Miss Simmonds saw the gnarled cover of the grimoire and smiled. Her eyes turned back to Lettie. “Perfect.”

“I’m not feeling too well. I might head home. If that’s okay Miss-”

“No.” You could tell Miss Simmonds took joy in the word. Lettie could tell in the way she enunciated each letter, tasting it and rolling it about in her mouth. Lettie recovered from her wince very slowly. Simmonds had enjoyed that too.

“But Miss-” Lettie tried again.

“No.”

Miss Simmonds took a step forward, her cream pants billowing. She gestured toward the floor in front of her. Lettie tried to focus on her eggshell sweater, counting the thick knits that wove it into creation.

Meagan spoiled that. “Darkness. Death. Under. River. Depth. Fire.” They were written in chalk on the floor by Meagan earlier.

“And that’s why I keep hiring you. You’re very lucky Meagan. They wanted you in the film team.”

Meagan’s uncaring look slipped to a glare for a just a moment. Disgust replaced the apathetic expression she had mastered. “Thank you, Miss Simmonds.” One year left. She just had to survive one more year.

“I need the both of you. As per the ritual.” Simmonds voice rose. “The bucket of Lambs blood is sitting by the door. It’s still warm.”

Steam rose. Scent crept to Lettie’s nostrils and she almost lost breakfast. She knew no matter how hard she pleaded with Simmonds; she kept her chilling smile and the word ‘yes’ locked away down her throat. Framed in red lipstick; it made Lettie grit her teeth.

She was going to ruin her lucky dress if any of that got on her. She didn’t know if blood washed out of this fabric.

The thoughts concerning her dress shrivelled and died as Meagan dipped two fingers into the thick liquid. A thick dark red clung to her fingers, heart’s blood. Meagan smeared it over her face while she motioned over to Lettie.

Lettie’s stomach rolled and heaved. It flipped and tossed. She had to clamp her hands over her mouth to stop her breakfast from exiting while Meagan smeared it on hers too.

It smelted like death. The thick and inescapable smell. You could taste the rich and raw blood through the smell alone. She retched and made a fouled expression.

When it was over, Meagan dipped both her feet in the bucket. Lettie’s eyes couldn’t settle. The windows were too small to jump out of. The door wasn’t far away. No. She’d have to join the film crew if she ran. She just had to dip her feet in blood. She didn’t want to lose her virginity to a porn crew. Two sacrificial virgins. She almost laughed. It was all insanity.

Lettie held her breath as her feet sunk into the warmth. It wasn’t like taking a bath. The liquid was thick. An uncomfortable heat. And it stuck. It seemed to grab onto your pores and make its home there. The feeling would never wash out.

“Now walk here Lettie. Counter clockwise. It’s so the demon can’t follow us afterwards.”

The same principle was why they covered their faces. But it couldn’t be true. There was no such thing.

Lettie clamped down on her mouth. The blood started running down her cheeks. If she cried now, it’s mix and drip onto her dress.

Simmonds was grinning. Her teeth were fine and pointy, like she herself was the devil they were summoning.

Meagan chanted in some infernal language. She held the book and traced her hands on the ground. Lettie had both palms down. She sat opposite Meagan, over three of the six words.

The cupboard shook. It rattled like it was going to crash down upon them all.

Simmond’s grin widened past what looked normal. “Almost done Meagan! The last sentence. Use the word I told you to!”

The rattling turned to banging, a beast inside trying to break its way out. Lettie’s head felt light, as if it would float away. She looked down, afraid she’d lost her legs from the lack of feeling.

“Voca Me Summoner!” Meagan shouted. “Vi-”

The words caused the cupboard to shatter, even before she finished. Splinters threw themselves toward Lettie and Meagan. The door handles banged against the cupboard itself and vibrated with force. From the darkness, a figure was cast out.

“Oh no.” Meagan moaned under her breath.

“Why was he here?!” Shouted Simmonds.

Lettie’s little hands were moving, as were her legs. She skidded back down to the figure. “Fraser!”

He lay curled up on the floor. His grey and black sweater was warm and soft in Lettie’s arms. Fraser’s silver pendant clicked softly against the floor. Lettie squeezed him hard. “Fraser! Are you okay? Fraser, please.”

Lettie needed him to be okay. She needed him. He was always there for her. She would be damned before she let him go. She needed him and he needed her.

She put her fingers under his nose and felt his gentle breath. “He’s breathing. I’ll take him home.”

“The ritual-”

Lettie shot a dark look at Simmonds. She could be damned. The university could be damned. But no Fraser. “We will finish it. I promise. I need to care for Fraser.

“It’d look bad for you too.” Meagan added.

Miss Simmonds let it go.

Meagan slipped down beside Lettie and patted Fraser’s head. She ran her fingers through his hair, the colour of expresso. Lettie froze for a moment. She wanted to move Meagan’s hand over and replace her touch with her own. She had to stop herself from doing it too.

“Let’s get him to my car and I’ll take him home.”

Lettie changed her mind by time they got him to her car and she was covered in his scent. Leather, herbs and amber. He smelled wild, even though he was one of the tamest men she knew. He liked to read, teach people things and animals. But it didn’t cover the scent of drying blood.

Meagan strapped him into the front seat. “I can come with you-”

Lettie shook her head. “His parents know me and I don’t want it to look bad if we both turn up with him passed out.” She tried to laugh. It came out strangled. Her lips felt misplaced.

Meagan nodded, looking shot down. “It was my fault. I told him what we were doing yesterday and he freaked out. He was really worried about you. I didn’t think he’d do this.”

Lettie let a deep breath out. She focused on the ones out. It helped the fact that her best friend was unconscious, and her car was about to smell like a rotting lamb. She kept a hand on Fraser’s thigh as she drove him to her house. Where only her car was parked in the driveway.