In Ogef, the Raven is the symbol of Death. It is also the broad, red_inked tattoo that sits brazenly across my back. When I had my first vision fortelling the death of my maternal grandmother, my mother had taken me to a tattoo artist and I had sat painfully while they sketched a broad raven across my back. It was a kind of revenge , and it was also the first of many punishments. I was only thirteen years old .
It's been five years now and that Raven sits still, like a stamp of death on my back. I turn away from the mirror where I had been staring unamusedly at my naked body. At eighteen, I have none of the beauty of the Carters. My face has that faraway , bored look and my eyes are deep green. In Ogef, girls my age were thick thighed and round, bubbling with the vitality of youth and health. I was as thin as the models on the Causasian Quarterly, except of course there were no models in Ogef and only a few handful even read the Quarterly.
My body was covered in whip marks, each for a death I had fortold and that had come to pass, and each stroke hand delivered by my mother. I could count a total of twelve such marks, like unfading emblems on my skin. In Ogef, Dark Magians were a rarity and the last known one had been framed by the Sheriff and implicated in a murder case. I knew Fredora Klein's story very well even if she died thirty years ago. My mother had had her pictures taped to my wall when the visions started coming, as a reminder that I was doomed. Ogef was a thriving town basking in the over abundance of Light Workers and Fortune Tellers. The ability to accurately predict deaths and spread doom was frowned at and hushed up.
But my ability was not the only thing that fizzled out my mother's affection for me. The whole mass of hair on my head was flame red. It was the only thing the stranger left me. The band singer who had gotten Leticia pregnant at seventeen and sang his way out of town and fizzled down into a myth. I reminded her too much of him.
My bedroom door opened unceremoniously and I yanked a coverlet across my naked ,scarred body with a huge scowl on my face. I turned to face the intruder.
"What is it, Norma Jean" My eyes flickered irritably at my younger sister. Or half sister.
Born four years after me , the first child of my mother's famous marriage with Fareiz Carter, Norma Jean Carter had somehow inherited all the beauty in the gene pool. My mother's sea blue eyes. The delicately stunning facial features. The pouty lips. The impressive height. And at fourteen, the enviable curves.
She was wearing a tank top and a short and was chewing bubblegum. Loudly. I resisted the urge to claw at her throat.
"Mom says not to keep her waiting" She said with a smirk, wandering further into the room. I winced. I have always hated my siblings prowling in my room, except of course Charlie who's a three year old cute little toddling darling. There is nothing impressive about this room except the fact that it is mine. The curtains are death black and most times the rooms stay devoid of light. I like it that way. And the only picture on the wall is a portrait of a scarecrow. Nice, really.
"Don't you have something meaningful to do after delivering your message?" I ask loudly. Norma Jean stops in her tracks and glares at me. Yes, I know a glare when I see one. Her eyes darted once to my closet and back at me. One of the many perks of having sisters is that your clothes get missing sometimes and you very well know who the thieves are.
"Yes. I have like a dozen messages to reply on Insta." She replied testilly and added "Life is really busy for those of us who have a life".
I swallow the retort bubbling in my throat and watched her departing back parade itself out of my room. While I fished out clothes, I brooded sullenly on my sister's words. Typical. It is not like I don't have messages to reply on Insta. It is just that I know very well who the messages are from . Barbie Mullen. Best friend of five years. I think the correct tag there is "Only friend "... of five years. I think her latest text would be about the book we are both reading. Gryl Timber's Wanderlust.
Well that is all Barbie and I always talk about. Books. Books. Books. Not boys. Not dresses. Not parties. Not about our frigging frightful virginity which we had sworn to loose on our nineteenth birthday. Well nineteen seems reasonable compared to our mates at Greta High who had lost theirs at sixteen. Or most notorious of them, Sophie Simms who had gotten deflowered at fifteen and bragged about it for a whole term. I roll my eyes.
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In the broad, elegantly furnished sitting room, eleven year old Francine is almost clawing Gillian's throat in a playful fistfight that does not look playful at all. I do not separate them. The last time I inserted myself with elderly dignity into their fights, Gillian's hard blow aimed at Francine had landed squarely on my jaw. I could hear the music blasting heavily from Norma Jean's room which was the closest to the sitting room. These are the dozen and one reasons while I confine myself to the solitary, welcome silence of my room.
"Where's mom?" I barked at them. Their eyes dart at me but Francine's hands do not leave Gillian's throat.
"In the OutHouse" It is Francine who replies, her voice tense and testy but in the split second it takes for her to answer me, Gillian had freed himself and was now the one who had her pinned to the ground. I read the victorious smirk on his face and the incredulity on Francine's face and I knew instantly that one of them would cry shortly.
I shrugged unamusedly and started to walk to the door. My mother being in the OutHouse meant she had a guest. The OutHouse was a small, cozy office she held her seances, did her divinations, read fortunes and received visitors.
"With the Mayor" Gillian adds breathlessly. I hear a heavy thud and a tumble. I do not look back but the piercing sound of a shrill cry escort me out of the door. I do not need a backward glance to know that Francine Carter is sulking loudly in a corner and Gillian Carter is dancing victoriously, the television remote finally in his charge . Tut. Children . I shake my head irritably.
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The OutHouse is a small cone like building built metres away from the main house. I knock at the wooden door after a couple of breaths. I am always tensed each time I am about to meet my mom. My skin crawls and my blood pressure shoots up. I do not hate my mom but I think her presence terrifies me. Leticia Carter is Ogef's most famous Light Worker. She's the most sought after Sybil with a striking flair for simplicity and authenticity. Her fame had skyrocketed two years ago when she read Jose Ann's palms and predicted her win in the Mayoral elections. Since then, even politicians from as far as Hebo has graced our doors to have their palms read and their fortunes told. The dazzling, sleek Ford car in the garage was the first of Jose Ann's many gifts to my mom.
"Come in," A voice says from within.
I push the door open and find myself in a cream colored room. There is a small oval table atop which rests several books on white sorcery and Light Working. There is a couch for visitors and on this couch a thin, crisp woman sits. Her face is pretty, painted and on her ears dangle copper dangling earrings. She looks ordinary. Young. She could pass for a teacher or a secretary. Her shirt is pressed and blindingly white. Her skirt is as black as the curtains in my bedroom. But this is not a teacher or secretary.
This is Jose Ann Murray, the first female Mayor in a four hundred year old town.
"The Death Magian?" Her eyes hover suspiciously at me and then she turns to my mother who sits with a quiet disdain in her eyes.
Physically, there is nothing terrifying about Leticia Carter. She is just so flawlessly stunning. Her black hair sits in a neat tight bun on her head and her jewelled fingers are outstretched on the table.
"Yes" She shrugs listlessly while I stand like an exotic bird for the Mayor's perusal. I fumed silently, resenting this unasked for gift that had literally branded me an outcast even amongst my own people.
"Then it's a good thing she got accepted" Jose Ann is still surveying me crisply. I cannot meet her eyes. I stare at the hard floor instead, feeling stark naked even if I am dressed in a big t shirt that almost swallows up my entire frame and a short that shows off my scrawny legs.
"Yes. Good riddance." My mother yawns tiredly "Her premonitions are getting worse and sickening. It's only a matter of time before she gets the Sheriff's attention."
"The White Colony is the best place for her to be." The Mayor says, fishing calmly into her handbag.
"I am not going to the White Colony " I say loud enough to grab their attention, a sickening sense of dread floating over me. Even a toddler in Ogef have heard the rumors of that string of towns where humans and beasts live peacefully (or in the illusion of peace).
By beasts I do not mean lions or tigers or any of the likes. Surely there are worse beasts than those . Have you heard of a werewolf and a bloodhound (I heard this bloodsucking specie prefer the fancy title , Vampyre.)
"But you are , my darling" My mother says with an insincere see_through smile plastered on her face. "The Academy has offered you a scholarship."
"Yes, dear" Jose Ann adds ecstatically "You were one of the four who received this offer. Ogef can now boast of global recognition in the forthcoming years. " She exhaled piously "Ah, for this to happen in the second year of my tenure."
"Your reign is indeed a blessing to the town" My mother passed her a napkin and I watch Jose Ann dabble at the tears in her eyes while my mind process the shock of the announcement.
Okay, so first offs, scholarships are nothing new in Ogef. Even my friend, Barbie Mullen who is an orphan, is a scholarsship student at Greta High. Each year, at least one of the less privileged ones wins an entrance examination for scholarship to high school, courtesy of the town. But a scholarship to The Academy of the White Colony, I think that's a first.
There are four towns that make up our world.
There's Ogef—our own, swollen with festivals, art, and Light Workers who sell joy like cheap wine.
There's Rudwan, feared for housing the Thorn House, the only true school of Magic, where Magians polish their gifts into polished careers.
There's Ajit, home of the Defense Academy, a place for cadets who think swords solve everything.
And then there's Moria—a fishing village crawling with Dark Magians, thieves, and scoundrels. My mother used to hiss that I'd end up there one day.
The Black Colony is human, technically. Some of us are Magians—born with sight, clairvoyance, telepathy, and Mindcraft. Light Workers are the adored kind, healers and prophets of glad tidings. Dark Magians like me predict death and ruin, so everyone pretends we don't exist. And then there are the ones no one talks about: Blood Magians.
. A Magian can further horn their skills at the Thorn House in Rudwan and become a celebrated Lord or Lady, like Lady Nisril , the current Magian To The current Governor of the Black Colony.
"Are you not happy, Night.?" My mother asks, breaking into my thoughts. I feel dread most likely. The White Colony was not a place one is enthusiastic to visit, much less live in.
"This is quite a not ...so pleasant surprise" I mouthed out , directing my gaze to the Mayor " Your idea, probably?"
"But it shouldn't be that much of a surprise " Jose Ann replies narrow eyed "You passed the entrance examination two weeks ago. "
"But no one told us it was an entrance examination into hell" My tone is flatter than the floor but it is nothing compared to the rage in my chest.
Two weeks ago, our principal had conducted an entrance examination for all final year students at Greta High. We had originally thought it was probably for college. So everyone had put in their best. My 284 was just one point higher than Ralph Bobbit's. And Bobbit was the genius of the class. When the scores were read, I had gone home to gloat loudly to myself at having beaten Bobbit. If I had known what the examination was for, I would have wallowed in tears instead.
"My dear Night" My mother says soothingly "The Academy is nothing like hell actually. There are actually humans in the White Colony. "
"Humans who breathe the same air and live in fear of the animals they co exist with?" I stared at my mother coldly "Do you hate me this much to dump me in such an environment?"
Her reply was colder and hit me like an ice berg "I love you too much and I know that the Academy is where you need to be. Ogef is no place for you. And bless the gods that planted this blessed idea in the Governor's mind."
I turned accusing eyes to the Mayor.
"Now, let me explain " She said hurriedly "The Governors of the two Colonies have reached an agreement that the centuries old segregation should come to a halt. We are all humans and ...uhn..." She lingered, mentally searching for a suitable word " not_so humans but it doesn't mean we should all claw at each other's throats like our ancestors did".
"Yes," my mother added in a sing song voice emanating from a throat I wished to strangle "On that basis, Governor Halls thought it wise to send four students from the four towns on a year long scholarship program to The Academy. Darling, think of it as an opportunity to sharpen your skills "
"We have the Thorn House " I snapped at her.
"The Thorn House is nothing compared to The Academy " She hisses with contempt.
I direct my powerless fury to the Mayor "So, I am to be amongst the first set of lab rats in the Governor's ridiculous peace ploy?"
"It is an honor " My mother barks "And there is nothing ridiculous about this blessed idea."
"And if I reject this honorable offer?" I stare coldly at Jose Ann.
She grabs her bag and stands up with impeccable grace. She has an impressive height.
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to go down that lane" She stares back at me "Anyways, your train leaves in two days. My special assistant will come to pick you ."
She hands me something in an envelope. My fingers twitch around it and I know it is a letter. When Jose Ann leaves, the silence in the room is suffocating.
"Well, Night Persephone Carter" I shudder at the tragic ness of my full name. Who on earth names their kid after the Greek underworld goddess and the eerie part of the day . Well, Leticia Carter did. Is it any wonder I turned out to be a Dark Magian after all?.
"Well, mother " I reply impudently.
"Start arranging your things. Two days is just a couple of hours. " I want to wipe that sour smile off her place but instead I smile back but my voice is hard as granite when I reply .
"Two days is more than enough time to die."
When I leave the room as the shock settles on her face, I bang the door. Loudly .