The Avowal

"Ignitem."

I fidgeted nervously as the fire sprung to life, bathing the dark Order Hall in a menacing red hue that made the stones appear burnished in blood.

Aris smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet, squealing with delight as she beamed over at the Order she was sorted into. Blood witch. Not a rare type of witch, but neither was it that common.

I was happy for her, for no other reason than she seemed pleased with the outcome. Meanwhile, my insides were flipping over themselves, dreading my turn where I'd learn what type of magic I carried as I took a step forward. Out of the throng of a hundred witches who turned up today, only three people were left in front of me, none of whom I recognized.

Transfers, I surmised. They looked European, and I vaguely wondered why they chose to attend an American institution when they had their own. Not to mention, the covens out here were still distrustful and resentful towards outsiders for never lifting a finger during the Salem Witch Trials. Many of our ancestors were massacred or had to go into hiding, weakening bloodlines and drastically reducing our population. What was left of witches at the time had organized this school deep in the Appalachian Mountains where no mortal would dare wander. Entry was exclusively through invitation unless they had a compelling message from a distinguished foreign family requesting their offspring attend.

It was such a paradox to me that the same families who had previously thought our people weren't worth saving now expected us to provide the best possible education for their next generation of leaders. I didn't understand why they weren't rejected. I knew how the coven leaders felt, holding onto their animosity like they did their power.

"Ignitem."

The room was suddenly flooded with a vivid emerald glow, abruptly ending my musings. The light indicated the foreigner was a Viridian Witch, with a strong connection with nature. She bounded with pride over to where the many other Viridian Witches assembled, joining their ranks with her chin held high despite their glares.

The next person moved forward, and I shuffled apprehensively as I became even closer to the torch that'd announce my fate.

A warlock smirked down at the tendril of smoke that beckoned him closer, and he took another step, seeming confident about where the Avowal would sort him. That made one of us.

The purpose of this ritual we call the Avowal, was to uncover the mystical forces that the new students would bring with them and nurture these abilities during their time here. What Order we wanted didn't matter. Our heritage didn't matter. It played a small role in what ran through our blood. The main component was what Destiny had in store for us.

"Ignitem."

A glorious white light radiated from the flame, reaching even the darkest, most hidden corners of the Hall. He punched a fist in the air in silent triumph, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he prowled over where the cluster of Cosmic Witches stood.

Envy gripped me. It was the Order I was hoping to be sorted into. The most honorable Order there was among witches, having the sun, moon, and stars source their magic. There was no higher power than the cosmic forces.

The line moved again, and only one more person stood between me and the flame. My throat congealed as doubts filled my head. Usually, prior to the Avowal, there were some signs that signaled what type of magic we'd wield. A Blood witch would be drawn to blood; a Veridian Witch would feel at one with nature, and so on and so forth. Yet I hadn't felt any of that. There was no hum in my bones when I stood under a full moon. Blood made me squeamish, I didn't have a green thumb, and I swear tarot cards and other Divination tools mocked me when I tried to read them.

I feared I didn't have any magic, and that'd bring ultimate shame on my family. Well, on my father anyway. Not long after I was born, my mother disappeared, leaving no trace of her whereabouts and giving us no explanation.

The intake of a deep breath drew my attention, and I looked up at the warlock in front of me, noting his unease. Seemed I wasn't the only one feeling anxious about what the Avowal would reveal.

"Ignitem."

Warm, yellow light flickered off the walls in a jubilant celebration of his Order.

"Bollocks," he cursed, giving me a sample of his British accent, and snapped his head in the direction of his new group in wide-eyed embarrassment at his slip. "Sorry, I was hoping-" He cut himself off, realizing he was only pouring salt on the wound of his obvious disappointment at being assigned to the Divination Order.

Heaving a deep sigh, he trudged towards his new colleagues, none of whom seemed particularly delighted with him being there. At least it was mutual.

"Maev."

At the sound of my name, I turned my head to where the voice originated from. My grandmother stared at me with an impatient expression, but she quickly recovered her composure and motioned for me to step forward.

One might think having a Grandma as the Head Mistress would give me an edge in the academy. They couldn't be more wrong. There weren't any special privileges that came with being a supreme witch's shadow. Quite the opposite. The expectations placed on me were insurmountable.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the butterflies that'd taken flight in my stomach, and inched closer to the torch. A plume of smoke wafted from the extinguished flame, seeming curious about me. It drifted over to where I stood, and I felt a tingle along my skin where it brushed against me. It was barely a touch before it drew back in a flummoxed sort of way.

I didn't know what that meant, but it I was sure it didn't bode well for me.

Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and lifted my chin. "Ignitem."

No sooner had I uttered the spell than the room was suddenly plunged into total darkness. There were a few startled screams, and I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the abrupt absence of light when the darkness gave way to a dim glow. I didn't have a chance to process the color before a wave of gasps erupted throughout the room.

Dread fell over me as it finally clicked what I was seeing; the flame was a deep indigo color. The color of the night sky. The color of the Void.

My Avowal was-

"Chaotic."

The word was whispered around the room by everyone in attendance, sounding like a bunch of angry hissing snakes.

I stared at the flame, trying to suppress the horror I felt. No. No, this was wrong. The Avowal made a mistake. The flame should've been a bright white like my father's. Not indigo.

I scanned the room, looking for my father. Our eyes met and his were filled with fear and worry. I had no doubt mine looked the same. I was a Chaotic Witch... meaning I was destined to be evil.

"Maev."

My breath punched out of my lungs as I turned my attention back to my grandmother, her face set in a look of absolute misery. She'd been looking forward to this moment, believing that I'd end up a Cosmic Witch like everyone else in her bloodline.

"I'm not evil," I whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the shame I could see welling up in them. There was no way I was evil. I had strawberry-blonde hair, pale green eyes, and a heart of gold. Those weren't evil traits. I was as pure as they came.

When she opened her eyes again, her face was a mask of stone. "You must join the others in your Order."

I was rooted in place, disbelief spreading over me like a virus. She couldn't be serious. "This was a mistake."

"The Avowal never makes mistakes," the witch next to her said, and my attention flicked to Hera. Her face was partly hidden in shadow, but I could see the glint of mirth in her eyes watching as my royal bloodline fell from grace.

I wanted to snarl at her. I wanted to cry. I was so angry and hurt and confused and terrified all at once. I couldn't believe this was happening. My whole world was falling apart, and I feared what this meant for me. I'd bring chaos to our world.

Prove them wrong, a voice said from somewhere deep within my subconscious.

Finally, my feet moved, as if driven by a guiding force. I faced a small group of others within the Chaotic Order. Twelve of them. I made thirteen. They were an equal number of warlocks and witches, but my arrival threw off that balance.

As I approached, I scanned the unwelcoming group. My eyes landed on onyx ones, and a chill raced up my spine. If there was ever anyone correctly labeled as evil, it was Killian Ripper. And I was offended that the Avowal saw me as equally villainous as him.

His gaze followed me as I grew nearer, his sullen expression communicating his displeasure with me being there. Same, buddy.

I kept a slight distance from the other Chaotic Witches, hoping maybe if I did, my fate would change. I knew it was a pointless wish, but I was trying to stay optimistic.

My grandmother took a single step forward, signifying the Avowal had concluded. "It is a momentous occasion being sorted into your Orders. And while some of you are not happy with the outcome," her eyes briefly cast to me and then to the warlock who'd been placed in Divination, "you should do well to remember the importance of this ritual. No matter how hard we try to control our lives, Destiny has other plans and takes us down unexpected paths of discovery."

I scowled at the torch that brought me my doom, hating the fact that her words rang true. I was aware of how childish I was being. It wasn't the flame's fault for putting me in this Order. It was simply doing exactly what it was meant to do... which was to expose my inevitable fate.

"Bear in mind it is in your best interest to embrace your unique magic, for your Destiny is inextricably linked to your journey of discovering your purpose in life." My grandma spoke with a commanding tone that reverberated through the space, her words delivered with conviction. "Now that the Avowal has been honored, you are free to leave." An uncanny grin stretched across her wrinkled face. "Order Leaders- give our fresh blood a proper welcome to Pentacle Academy with an orientation they will never forget."