War of The Realms: House of Crow PROLOGUE

The whispers of recruitment traveled through the universe like a river’s song, playing endlessly on the lips of everyone you came across. It was never off the minds of politicians as centuries passed, but it stopped being a daily fear as silence deepened in all corners of the realms. Until now. The school recruited students only when the need for warriors approached—twice since its conception, the third foretold as the last, most violent, and deadliest of all others. A war of the realms. The elders ensured that the best weapons would be created and ready for recruitment. The academy is made up of five houses to expertly train those whose powers require greater control, sharpened intellect, and battle skills.

The children of the gods were carefully selected for this reason. All over the universe, the chosen would receive their colored letters, which would draft them to the school, their new home, until it was time to use what they had learned and, hopefully, return home alive. I stood in my flat, munching on crispy cereal as Micah, my roommate, packed his belongings. With his back to me, he chattered about his skills and how he skipped a house, starting the academy in the House of Owl. Micah packed while bragging about his immense abilities.

"And I am already at the top of my class because of my control. I am an asset to the new war. " He threw his bag over his shoulder and walked over to me, patted my arm and smiled. "Don't worry about the future. I will be protecting it."

I nodded as I chewed. Before he walked out, he turned back to give me a little wave.

"I'll miss all of our great times together. I will remember my time here with you." He softly closed the door behind him.

The school wasn't for the weak. You didn't have a choice when you got your letter either. Your power and service were needed if you were recruited. I washed my one dish, and headed to my room. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. My bag was already packed, and my letter was next to it. I didn't have the heart to tell Micah I was going, too. He seemed so proud of himself for being picked. No matter. I was going to be in the House of Crow, where everyone usually starts. When I left, I glanced around the place where I had lived for the past few years, too. I wasn't sentimental, but I knew a big change was coming.

The griffins soared through the thinning gray clouds as they carried recruits inside the oversized, canopied chariots, roomy enough to hold twenty bodies comfortably. At a glance, there were five chariots led by more griffins in the back, reins harnessed over their necks to keep the backs of the chariots raised so we didn’t fall to our deaths. The rows were centered, and we faced one another during the trip. It was awkward as no one wanted to speak in the beginning. I only recognized one person. Micah. He did not talk to me but donned a scowl so deep it could become permanent if he didn’t fix his face. I gave him a friendly wave before focusing on the book in my hand while music played from the bud in my left ear.

I enjoyed mortal pleasures sometimes, and music was at the top of my list, even if it was 21st century tunes. Some of it was quite catchy. No one noticed my obsessions as they were preoccupied with their own gadgets. Several females chatted excitedly amongst themselves as two males at the ends debated over which were the best weapons in history, conjuring different artillery and poorly explaining their abilities. Their arguments came across more as younglings explaining their favorite toy instead. Everyone else used their powers to do what they wanted to pass the time. Floating images transfixed several others. A few read from virtual text scrolling in front of them, but there was one who read a physical book like me. Dark-rimmed glasses slid down a strong, slim nose. He wore a suit, which, by its slick lines and smooth material, I would say was very expensive. Tailored to be a second skin, the midnight blue of the pants and jacket complemented his black undershirt and loosely hung red tie. His tussled hair was equal parts black, light brown, and snow white. When he ran his fingers through it before turning a page, the colors from the top strands were reversed at the roots. The book was abstract on the cover, and the words were not in a language I was familiar with, which was many.

He glanced up at me as I narrowed my eyes, trying my best to decipher a pattern. “You will not crack the code. You may as well give your mind a rest,” he said, pushing the glasses up his nose with a long, narrow forefinger.

“Secret code, eh?” I was joking, but he didn’t laugh; he just gave a curt nod. “Something like that.” After a short pause, he spoke again, closing his book and laying it on his lap. “My mum is a bit mental for secret codes and languages.” He lifted the book and gave it a short wave. “This is her invention. Required reading in our family, language for the offspring.”

I was impressed. “Like a grimoire?”

He was thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose you could call it that, yes.” He gave a nod to my book. “And you?”

I shrugged. “Just a mortal murder mystery. Not bad at all.”

With a twist of his wrist, the book disappeared, and he crossed his legs as a teacup and saucer appeared in his hand mid-cross. He sipped. “I do enjoy a lot of mortal pleasures. Sad they nearly caused their own extinction."

“Agreed.”

“So, book friend, what is your name?”

“Luke. Yours?”

He sipped again. “Cerberus. Did you get your house assigned?”

I nodded. “Starting at the beginning with Crow. “

Cerberus smiled. “Well, we shall be house friends as well. Crow it is for me. I’m sure I could’ve skipped had I applied myself to be all I could be. But, honestly, why bother? I’m a quick study.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a cocky smile, and he removed his glasses, folding the sides one-handedly before they disappeared as well. He glanced around, examining our travelling companions and curiously eyeing them. “I dare say I don’t recognize a single individual here.” His tea was gone now, and he bent slightly forward to narrow his eyes at those at the end of the aisle. The two discussing weapons were now arguing loudly, each demanding the other agree on their choices.

Cerberus raised a brow and sat back with a shake of his head. “Makes one wonder how we were all chosen when it’s obvious some are much more. . .” He trailed thoughtfully while his eyes—which I noticed were ever-changing between brown, caramel, and a blue so pale it could pass for white—rushed from side to side, emitting a faint and fleeting golden glow before he finished his sentence. “More special than their travel companions,” Cerberus said with an exhale and a chuckle.

“I would be curious to know, too,” I mumbled when I noticed Micah scowling at me again. I waved one more time, and his return was one finger instead of five.

©melissawillissell, 2024

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