Page 4 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

What was going on?

Darkness gradually fell, and I retreated back to my tent. The plate of food was still hot, and after I’d devoured it, a dessert popped up. It was too sweet, though, so I picked up the pamphlet of papers on the vanity. One was a map of Academy grounds, another was a list of rules to be obeyed. The first one was, No killing.

If they had to have a rule about it, did that mean that killing was something that was done regularly? I shoved the papers back, worried about what I’d find. But with nothing else to do, I soon picked them back up. The rest of the rules were about comportment and hygiene.

The next pamphlet was a list of events that would happen the next morning. After the gates opened, there would be orientation for first-years, which I was presumably among. The only question was, why? What was going on?

Everything seemed impossible. How did the daughter of a fae killer end up at a fae academy?

No killing. Maybe that’s why I was here. Maybe I was going to be the school-appointed person who the fae could kill when they were getting antsy about the rule.

A knock came on my door. I jumped to my feet, then hesitated. Sure, from the inside it was wooden, but the outside was just fabric. How could they knock?

Magic, I reminded myself, and headed over to it. The person on the other side wore a hooded robe. The cut of the clothes swathed them, making it impossible to tell if they were male or female. Their hood was pulled up, and with the night falling, it cast their face into complete shadow. They held a bundle of clothes in one hand and a knapsack in the other.

“Your uniform,” the figure said, their voice neither high nor deep, as they held out the clothes. They handed a knapsack to me next. “Your supplies. You will find paper, quills, ink, and other necessities. And here are your papers.” They reached into their robes and handed me a slim, folded paper. “Signed by your matron, certifying your fae heritage.”

My what now? I kept a blank face as my stomach dropped. Fae heritage? Was that why I’d been asked here? Had someone mixed me up with Kili? I awkwardly opened the papers, to find that it certified me by name and was signed by the matron. It included a copy of my birth certificate, although this one had only a mother’s name and no father. These had to be forged.

“I don’t understand,” I ventured to say.

“You, Azriel Jones, have been selected to attend the Binding Academy. Here, you will be taught how to control your fae magic and find your beast form.”

Beast form? I wracked my brains to try to put it into context. So very little was known about the fae. There were rumors they could shapeshift, but I’d never put much stock into it. Fae were powerful, they were magical, and they didn’t like humans. That was about as much as I believed.

It was probably a mistake to come here. Why had I let those visions of gold into my head? Ha! That was another story I shouldn’t have believed.

I shook my head. “I still don’t understand. How did I even get here? I’m not fae.”

“You would do best not to make such jokes,” the figure responded. “You have your invitation, your certification, and a mother’s name. That is all I need.”

“But is this even my mother’s name?” I demanded.

The figure merely turned and walked away. In frustration, I slammed the door. Returning to the bed, I read through the papers they’d given me. Nothing stood out. Tossing the rest aside, I picked up the birth certificate again. I had seen mine, of course. My name was spelled the same, and I was given the same birthdate, but everything else was different.

“Abigial Jones,” I read softly. Despite myself, I touched the spot where my amber brooch was pinned to my undershirt. Was that her real name? Instinct told me no, that it was something made up, but I couldn’t stop this small, strange tug of longing in my gut.

Shaking myself, I put it with the other papers and stacked them neatly on the vanity. Abigail Jones didn’t even sound that fae-like.

Court Laurel, Court Vespa, Court Litherio, Court Xandes, Court Oslo, and Court Alegro. Those were the family names of the royal courts. Just where did something like ‘Jones’ come in?

Not all fae belong to the royal courts, though, came the unbidden thought.

Annoyed at myself, I checked the bundle of clothes I’d been given. For how slim it was, there was a surprising amount of clothes inside. Four tunics. Two vests. One jacket. Three sweaters. Four pairs of pants. Seven pairs of undergarments and undershirts. Fourteen pairs of socks. They were all made of a soft material that was loads better than the rough uniform from the orphanage. The only thing missing was shoes. Hopefully, I’d get a new pair once I was settled into the academy.

Included were also three sets of pajamas. One was a sleeveless nightgown, the other two tunics and trousers. Nice. I quickly changed into one of the night sets, ignoring the nightgown.

My old uniform disappeared as soon as it hit the floor. I moved my amber brooch from my undershirt to the sleep tunic before I attempted to fold the shirt back into the bundle. It, too, disappeared.

Great.

I touched my brooch, sighing in relief. At least I still had it. I climbed into bed and tried to get some sleep. The lights put themselves out, but all attempts at sleep were fruitless. I ended up tossing and turning all night.

Finally, the lights started to come back on above me. I threw back the blankets and started to root through the bundle of clothes for my uniform when I heard a call from outside.

“The gates are opening!”

Chapter 3 - Azriel