Magical beings always frightened Elise. She had been frightened of them when she thought they were nothing more than creative but horrific inventions of imaginative and primitive peoples. When they explosively reemerged into the world of man, rebelling against an ancient and unjust magical spell placed on them by a small group of gods and men who believed their age was over and the age of man was the next age for the planet to experience they frightened her even more than they did when they were confined to her imagination and the pages of inventive fiction written by authors from all over the world. They frightened all of mankind when they emerged from their mysterious prison and filled the sky and seas with their gigantic and monstrous forms. They then proceeded to wage war on mankind, uniting the governments of the world as dragons raided major cities and the gods of the seas sunk entire navies and took the lives of millions by sinking entire coast lines beneath the waves and entire island nations vanished below hundreds of tsunamis. 

The world Elise had been born in was violently and permanently changed by the reemergence of ancient gods and mythic monsters. Cities vanished and countries were permanently altered, if they survived at all. 2010 was the most eventful year in human history, and people born in 2009 and 2010 had an infancy fundamentally different than young children and young adults who had been born just a decade or two earlier, as they went to school with young demons, angels, and all manner of magical and supernatural beings. Elise was born in 1999 and graduated from high school in 2017. She had heard the rule over 1,000 times during the course of her experience in high school. Despite this Elise had never knowingly encountered a magical being herself. 

The rule was simple: do not attempt to force a magical being to do anything for you. Magical beings punished those who violated this rule harshly. Typically they killed humans foolish enough to violate this rule, but they had worse things they could do to foolish people who decided this rule wasn't worth following. They could easily strip men and women of their freewill and enslave them. Many humans felt they enjoyed this and would do it eagerly if given the chance, which motivated them to repeat it more insistently to their children and their friends.

Elise's automatic reaction to a repetition of the rule was something she hated about herself. Hearing the rule made her begin to feel as if a magical being was near, watching those who whispered the rule. She got so frightened at that thought that she'd begin to breath more frantically, and her vision would blur. Both her therapist and she herself had originally thought that she'd grow accustomed to the repetition of the rule, but she never had. Although over time she began to be able to control her unconscious reaction, at least a little bit so it wasn't as dramatic and as visible. 

"Come on dude. We all know the rule." Complained someone nearby, a boy who looked to be about her age. Assuming that the complainer had agreed to attend the University of North Carolina at Greensboro would be a fair assumption given that he also wore the same lanyard that she did which made his status as a future freshman apparent to anyone who worked at the University and the students of the University roaming campus during the summer, who had likely once been attendants of SOAR, the University's student orientation program during the summer. He was complaining to one of the student leaders, a member of their orientation staff who was dressed in the University's colors to showcase student pride and presumably student leadership. 

The student orientation staff member shrugged his shoulders and responded by saying; "Look I know that you're familiar with the rule but not everyone might be. It's important that you know it because this city has an active community of magical beings and their allies and to them that rule is no joke. If you ignore it you could be forfeiting your life, or worse. At this University we repeat the rule to our students, both prospective and current, because we care about keeping you alive and making sure that the rights of magical beings are respected. If you violate the rule and your life is ended or your freewill is taken from you that's on you. We aren't liable. But if you want to get cheeky I'm glad you're doing it here with me, a human and a friend, and not a magical being who could be decidedly less friendly than me."

Elise wasn't happy with the conversation so she decided not to focus on it and instead to take in the environment. The student orientation staff member had insisted they do this part of the orientation process outside, a decision that while popular in their group had apparently not been popular with other staff members as they were all alone. They were walking outside of what had been called "the quad", a collection of residence halls where they were going to spend the night once the day was over. Elise enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin. She smiled as she gradually calmed down and followed the staff member assigned to her and a small group of other attendees of the orientation. She felt her reaction to the repetition of the rule gradually fade away and took time before focusing on the conversation the staff member was having with the group as he informed them to the dining options on campus and led them towards a large building he had called the Moran Commons.

In downtown Greensboro a young man was walking with the sort of speed that hinted that he had nothing on his mind but his immediate arrival at some location of importance to himself. He was dressed in a simple but effective suit, and had a sharp tie on. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses but if they hadn't been no one would have been fooled by his disguise as a human being. Underneath his sunglasses his eyes were the darkly seductive eyes of a demon, the sort of eyes that people had once believed belonged to the creatures tormenting people in Hell, not as part of an intoxicatingly beautiful face of a supermodel or as the final intimidating details which complete the face of a strict drill-instructor. If he wanted to, the young man could destroy part of his suit by unfurling his wings, currently painfully trapped within his suit, since he had only recently gotten this suit from a local Men's Warehouse. rather than having it custom ordered for his specific body-type. But when he got paid he'd go and place an order on another custom suit made to accommodate his unique physical features.

                                                   Chapter One

                                             The Reality of Things

Some are born with a natural dominant instinct to be cruel while others are exactly the opposite and see the good in everything. Between the good and bad of the ordinary world there are those born to magic and those who die at its hand. Chloe lived her life in both the ordinary and magical realities but had always felt like someone with no friends…no one at all who cared whether she lived or died. No one, that is, except Lydia Nostredame. Lydia had cared about Chloe but it was the kind of caring that a ruthless bully feels toward the unfortunate student they torment. Lydia’s brand of torture was mostly psychological but it still dealt a devastating blow. Most days Chloe wore the misery like a cloak and every so often when she got the nerve to shed that cloak…she’d get burned. The first time, three years ago, had been the worst by far.

“Who can tell me what the two non-human magical societies are?” Grand Dean Alvars had asked as he scanned the room for someone to call on.

As the head of the school Alvars took particular pride in his student’s knowledge of worldly magic. When none of the students in the after school club jumped at the answer he looked the slightest bit surprised by the silence.

“Does no one know? All of you signed up for this esteemed club. Intersociety Magic is based on our awareness of the other racial magics. Surely ONE of you knows the answer.” Alvars said in his carefully annunciated cadence.

His question was met with an uncomfortable silence. Chloe looked around the room and realized she may be the only one that did know the right answer but her shy nature was preventing her from raising her hand. Alvars had not missed Chloe’s wandering eyes and he smiled realizing she was the one with the answer he was seeking. There was always at least one student that didn’t need to sign up for his elite club but did anyway simply because they loved the subject matter. He suspected this first year was that student this year.

“Miss Shipton, do you know the correct answer my dear?” Alvars asked softly.

Chloe shrunk back in her chair as all eyes turned to look at her. She gave the slightest nod of her head, indicating that she did know. She didn’t say a word out loud but the panic attack in her head was rolling like a runaway train.

“Why me, I’m the only first year in the club, why would he call on me? Everyone in this room knows the answer. It was on the test we had to take to join the club in the first place!” She thought to herself as the older students looked at her expectantly.

Chloe wanted to disappear. There was a quiet giggling coming from behind Chloe and when she turned to see its source Lydia gave her a look that said, “Go on and make a fool of yourself little girl.” Chloe knew a gauntlet hand been thrown down and decided to take up the unspoken challenge. Before she could turn around Lydia shot her hand into the air.

“Miss Nostredame, perhaps you have the answer?”

“Yes Grand Dean. The answer is the magi, or mage, and witches.” Lydia said beaming with pride.

Chloe smiled knowing that Lydia had either not heard the question correctly or didn’t know the right answer because she’d answered wrong.

“I’m sorry Miss Nostredame, while those are different magical religions, practices if you will, they are NOT magical societies. Miss Shipton would you like to enlighten us with the correct answer?” The Grand Dean said as he rocked forward with his hands clasped behind his back.

Chloe could have just answered from her chair but she opted to go to the front of the class and look directly at Lydia, as if to drive the point home, when she delivered the correct answer.

“Sir the correct answer is Elves and Faeries. Witches and their male counter parts, Warlocks are an example of magical practice and method, also called magical religion. There are many other magical religions like Wizards and their female counterparts Enchantresses. Then there are Sorcerers and Sorceresses…like us, there are of course more but those are just a few. Elves and Faeries are the only two non-human organized magical societies in the world.” Chloe said with absolute confidence.

“That is correct my dear.” He said and motioned for her to take her seat again.

When Chloe spared a glance in Lydia’s direction she could see the undeniable tempest of hatred’s furry brewing in her eyes. The heat of Lydia’s glare continued to fall on Chloe for the rest of the club meeting. After the meeting concluded Chloe decided to go for a stroll in the Orchard of Purposeful Trees. They were magical tree’s whose fruit incited different sensations of wellbeing; Chloe was looking for the circle of Calming Trees. She hadn’t meant to upset Lydia; she’d thought it was a friendly challenge. She felt terrible about upsetting her club mate.

She was reaching up to pluck the calming pear from the tree when a pain so intense bloomed in the back of her head and she saw stars. The next second she was slammed to the ground by her hair…hair that reached mid-thigh because it had never been cut.

“If you so much as whimper I will set your damn clothes on fire, do you hear me?!” Lydia snarled through her teeth. “I bet you think you’re so damn smart, but let me just tell you, no first year little girl is going to make a fool of me!”

Lydia twisted Chloe’s hair around her hand and pulled it excruciatingly tight. Chloe shrieked in pain and moved to try and lessen the tension on her hair.

“Shut up, I am serious I will set your damn clothes on fire and burn that pretty little face of yours so horribly that no one will recognize you.” Lydia said meanly.

She pulled on the hair so hard that Chloe thought she heard some of it ripping. Chloe realized almost immediately that the sound was not her hair ripping but Lydia cutting through it at the base of her neck. She felt the strain of her hair being pulled lessen with each cut until there was no more pulling. Lydia got to her feet holding a mass of black hair four feet long. At the sight of her hair dangling from Lydia’s hand Chloe started crying at full force.

“That’s right, cry about it little girl. You don’t mess with me and get away with it. So now you know. Don’t cross me again or what I’ll do to you next will make this seem like a beautiful dream.” Lydia threatened.

“You won’t get away with this! I am going to go straight to the Grand Dean. He’ll see that you have cut my hair. You’ll be expelled.” Chloe sobbed as she felt the short hairs at the nape of her neck.

“Oh you mean this?” Lydia said holding the hair up higher in her left hand.

Her right hand started to glow orange and she threw the mass of hair to the ground. Fire spouted from her hand and she torched the discarded hair. It ignited on contact and the flames consumed every last strand. Chloe’s tears fell like rain as Lydia laughed at her with genuine satisfaction. A brisk wind kicked up the few leaves that had already fallen and carried away the ashes of Chloe’s hair.

“Now you have no proof and it is my word against yours. There are no witnesses and you could be mistaken on the identity of your attacker. It’s getting dark after all and I have a perfect record. Who do you think Alvars will believe an established student or a first year vying for attention? I think we both know the answer now don’t we.” She said with confidence and then left Chloe to cry alone in the Orchard of Purposeful Trees.

She had never forgiven Lydia for that act of cruelty all those years ago and she never would. Chloe went out of her way to avoid crossing Lydia’s verbally venomous path. She’d done more than just blend in. She’d all but perfected the art of disappearing into the river of students walking from class to class. Lydia’s bullying and Chloe’s tendency to be a loner didn’t exactly win her a spot in any groups. She wasn’t pretty enough to be in with the popular girls. The outcasts, well she was simply TOO weird… even for them. She was smart, but honors club smart? Let’s just say those types were nice, but viewed Chloe as more of a charity case than a contributing equal. Chloe told herself that this year, her freshman year, was going to be different. Even Grand Dean Alvars couldn’t have predicted just how different Chloe’s Freshman year would be at Grammaire Hall.

                                                         Chapter Two

                                                     The Voice Within

Chloe looked over the books she’d chose very pleased with how the research trip to the library had gone. Taking a deep satisfied breath, she moved toward the librarian’s desk to check the books out. She couldn’t wait to go back to her dorm and get started on her assignment. She was strolling past a table of some particularly mean veined girls when the snickering began. Normally she would just quicken her pace and walk on past but this time she stopped instead. Something had snatched and ruthlessly held Chloe’s attention…something far more serious than snickering. To everyone around her it looked like Chloe had just gone from weird to completely bizarre. She stood there, still as stone listening to seemingly nothing. But it hadn’t been, “nothing”. It had been someone crying for help…someone only she could hear. Chloe shook off the unsettled emotions the cries had left in their wake and started toward the librarian’s desk again completely unnerved. Chloe tried to suppress the feeling of guilt that was rising in her faster than an evening tide and for a short time she was successful. Mrs. Martin checked out the books and Chloe’s guilt over not helping the one who was desperately crying out over took her as she reached the door leading outside. Another breath wiggled its way through her lips, this time as a sigh of resignation. She couldn’t ignore this even if she wanted to, and she really wanted to!

She was going to try to do the right thing. Her moral set demanded it. If someone was calling out for help you tried to help them. That’s what her parents raised her to believe. It didn’t matter that the voice belonged to Lydia Nostredame, her single biggest bane of misery. Chloe’s gut told her not to get involved; to just turn around and leave. Her gut’s pull was strong, but her notion of right and wrong was a force to be reckoned with. The two opposing sides battled it out as she stood there with her hand on the knob. After a few moments of inner turmoil her moral stance won out. Chloe left the door and headed back into the library. Lydia’s cries ricocheted through Chloe’s head like a stray bullet looking for a mark. The cries for help became tortured screams as Chloe hurried in the direction her mind said they were coming from.

“Ms. Shipton, we do not jog through the Library!” Mrs. Martin said sternly.

Chloe slowed her pace to appease Mrs. Martin, but as soon as the stoic librarian’s attention was snagged by a group of snickering girls, Chloe darted forward. Lydia’s screams had grown to a deafening intensity. Like the tolling of church bells, the screams drowned out every other sound. The sharp shrill of them poked at Chloe’s temples like daggers. The pain was excruciating but still she pressed on. Her feet carried her past the familiar parts of the library and into the further reaches that were seldom ever visited.

“Why the hell does it have to be stairs, dark ominous stairs? Seriously this had better not be a prank. If this is some kind of trick, no one will be able to stop me let alone see me ring Lydia’s perfect little cheerleader neck.” Chloe said out loud trying to squash her harried nerves.

She summed it up to she’d just never noticed the stairs before. After all she’d only ventured to this part of the library maybe once before, if even that. The stair’s door was wide open and had it been closed, she would have thought it was a broom closet. The stairs twisted down further into the unknown depths, dimly lit and narrowing by the second. They seemed to spiral on forever until she finally reached a floor of stone. The smell of musty tomes and aged ink filled the stagnant air. There were rows upon rows of shelving, easily fifteen feet high. Layers of dust covered the sheet draped chairs and tables that shared the space. There were cobwebs, also thick with dust, which adorned most everything in this underground library.

“Please stop, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear…I don’t know anything!” Lydia pleaded the desperation evident in her voice.

Her tone was drenched in terror and quivering with tears. It echoed through the room, bouncing off the milled stone that was the walls of this well-kept secret. Chloe’s gut was adamantly insisting that she turn back, but she ignored it and continued on. She slinked through the columns of shelved books as sense of danger settled over her skin like static cling on a warm blanket. The further she moved down the rows the thinner the air seemed to get. It was like trying to breathe around a bubble lodged in her throat. Sweet smelling smoke wafted around Chloe in a lazy wisp as she stood at the very edge of a book row looking around. Chloe recognized the scent immediately, it was sweet grass.

Peering around the edge of the book shelves she stole a glance at a scene bathed in the long shadows cast by the flickering flames of a fire. Lydia was huddled into a whimpering ball on the hard stone floor. Her fragile body was battered, bruised, and worn from the torture her tormentor had inflicted. Lydia’s red plaid skirt and a white starched blouse hung loosely on her thin withering frame. The patch of a solitary flame was embroidered to her grey wool cloak which was lying haphazardly on a nearby table. Lydia was part of the Ignis Dormitory Order, the students of fire. Swatches of her wheat blonde hair scattered the floor bloodied at the tips as if parts of her scalp had come away with them. Fear gripped Chloe as she took it all in. She quickly surveyed the area and was preparing to cross the small distance to Lydia when her instincts pinged and she froze. She didn’t dare to even breathe.

The air stirred just the slightest bit but it was enough to make the hair on the floor bend with the slight pressure of it. Chloe shrunk back behind the wall of books as someone else approached and drifted across the floor to stand over Lydia. It was hard to know if this person was male or female since Chloe’s perspective only allowed a view of their back. The hood of their cloak was pulled up so no identifying features could be seen. The figure loomed over Lydia a moment longer before silently heading toward the ornate wooden table where Lydia’s cloak was. While their face was hidden by the fullness of the cloak’s hood the signifying dormitory patch was not. The patch boasted a black hackled cat on a gray background. It belonged to the Dormitory Order of Mortem, the students of mortality.

Like Ignis, Mortem was an order that belonged to the Elementa Edict. Chloe belonged to the Dormitory Order of Cogitari, Students of thought. Cogitari belonged to the Spiritum Edict. The Edicts were the two main factions of magic in the world. Chloe’s order was the smallest at just six members, because even in the magical world hearing other’s thoughts was unusual. Being able to project your thoughts to others was unheard of. For most Cogitari students the hearing of thoughts was the extent of it, but for Chloe it was a two way street. Not only could she hear but she could also be heard if she chose.

Chloe watched with a sense of dread as the cloaked figure retrieved a small silver canister and an ornate ceremonial dagger from the table. Returning to where Lydia lay, the figure opened the canister and threw some of the contents into the fire and then sprinkled Lydia’s body with the remaining amount. The flames in the huge fire place jumped in height and blazed blindingly bright as the figure chanted words Chloe didn’t understand in a monotone voice. Yanking Lydia up by the wrist, the cloaked figure sliced the blade across the palm of Lydia’s hand dripping blood onto the hearth below. Lydia screamed in pain as the blade bit into her flesh. The fire roared into a loud blackish purple inferno and souls of the dead could be seen dancing within the flames. When a soul shrouded in an ominous black glow walked from the flames and stood in the blood on the hearth Lydia opened her mouth to scream. Instead of sound escaping her lips it was her mortal soul. It slowly drifted into the fire’s purple hues. Lydia’s body went limp as her soul disappeared into the flames with a flourish of light resembling a sparkler. The soul of the dead that stood on the hearth took up residence in Lydia’s body.

The flames died down and the figure released Lydia’s wrist. She looked like a wraith with the thinnest layer of pasty ashen skin holding together the limbs of a skeleton. As she stood there in the pale glow of that purple fire her face took on a more lifelike complexion, her skin filled out and expanded back to normal, healthy, teenage proportions. Chloe continued to watch as her pulse thundered in her ears, loud and unrelenting. It was then that the glowing purple orbs that were Lydia’s eyes zeroed in on Chloe. Lydia flew across the room at remarkable speed and knocked Chloe to the cold unforgiving stone floor. The last thing Chloe experienced was Lydia’s angry glowing eyes inches from her face and the breath being squeezed from her lungs.

Genre: YA Fantasy 

Target Audience: 12 - 17 years of age

Word Count:  62K

Hook: Grammaire Hall is fabled to hold an artifact capable of summoning history’s deadliest sorcerer back into existence, but only an unknown descendant of a long dead prophet knows where it’s hidden.

Mini Synopsis:  

     When Chloe Shipton mysteriously goes missing, the rumors at Grammaire School of Sorcery point to murder. Wandering as an unseen apparition among her schoolmates, Chloe must find her body before it dies. As she uncovers clues as to her body’s whereabouts a secret starts to unravel revealing the presence of rogue sorcerers hidden within the school. The rogue sorcerers seek to bring back the third edict of the government that was destroyed long ago for unspeakably, horrific crimes against humanity in both magical and magicless factions. To prevent having her family’s connection to the prophecy revealed Chloe must find a way to reunite body and soul without giving the rogue sorcerers what they need to destroy her world. Failure isn’t an option because dying at fifteen would really suck! 

 Author Name: Lynn Veevers

Short Bio: I am a Business Major with a concentration in Technical Writing. I’m also an avid reader, prolific writer, and mother of wonderfully diverse children. I call Oklahoma home.

It was a passion from the start,

a need to set the expression free.

First through the eyes of a distant ancestor,

I scribbled atop wet clay with a tool of bone.

Progression plodded along at a steady pace,

papyrus and reeds crafted my creative words.

Next on sheets of wax with wooden tablets,

the metal stylus etched words to the page.

The Dark ages were of the parchment days,

a true turn but the stylus still held its place.

Parchment survived the darkness and the stylus fell,

modernism had given life to the artistry of the quill.

The quill remains a classic testament to the trade,

but the pencil nudged its way in to take its place.

Bone, soft metals, and inked quills all had their turn,

steel nibs took the spotlight from the lead and wood.

Ah but true innovation was at last known,

in the rise of the fountain pen to the hand.

Ball point pens came into fast existence,

leaving our coveted fountains in the dust.

The ball point had held a very long reign,

but it finally subsided to the felt tip pen.

While traditional writing is still alive and definitely well,

They have given way to the computer, tablet, and phone.

So the implements used have changed through the ages,

yet the point remains the same, Live, Breathe, and Create!