“I have two feramancy spells,” Osric admitted, “or, at least, that’s what Mrs Waverly thinks.”

“Two spells?!” Edgar asked, his voice loud enough to make Osric immediately regret not waiting until the other first-years had disappeared from view.

“What’s your second spell?” Nellie asked, a slight raise of her eyebrows the only indication of surprise.

“I don’t know,” Osric said, frustrated at his own inability to answer her. “Honestly, I don’t. All she said was that it was old. She didn’t recognise it.”

“Most unusual. I wonder how she knew it was old? If she had never seen it before, I mean.” Avery asked.

“I never got the chance to ask. I didn’t even think to. I was too busy being stared at by more people than I’ve ever seen in one place before!” Osric said, the frustration in his voice building.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to—” Avery started.

“No, no, think nothing of it,” Osric said, his voice quieting in response, “I’m just tired. Exhausted. I didn’t—”

“Hold on, why didn’t you tell us before now?” Edgar interjected, his surprise fading fast. “We had more time than we knew what to do with after our oaths. You told us about your shield spell, why not mention the other one?”

“I…I don’t know,” Osric muttered, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“You don’t seem to know much, do you?” Edgar said, his tone a mixture of bemusement and anger.

The three of them looked at Osric expectantly. A moment passed.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Truly, I am. I did think about it. I wanted to wait a little longer. I just didn’t want to be…different.”

Edgar’s eyes softened. Nellie looked to reply, then hesitated.

“I understand,” Avery said, meeting Osric’s gaze. “I feared I would be the only one here who couldn’t spellcast yet. Turns out I wasn’t,” he said, sending a knowing smile in Osric’s direction.

“Yeah, I get it too. We all have our secrets,” Edgar said, Nellie giving him a pointed look, “‘though I hope you know you can trust us not to tell anyone. Professor Edwards, on the other hand…”

“In the interest of mutual trust, does that mean you will tell me why you three are so interested in the Sanctum of Whispers?” Nellie asked, the boys exchanging glances before Osric spoke.

“Very well, but it stays between us,’ he said, Nellie nodding in agreement, “Let’s head back; it’s freezing out here. I’ll explain on the way.”

The four of them hurried back inside, an icy wind following them in through the door to Nelson Tower. Edgar led the way this time, imitating Pendlebury’s map levitation to the amusement of the others. Osric recounted the terms of the dare to Nellie, pausing as a group of older students walked past. Once he had finished, she laughed, expressing surprise that they had managed to convince Avery to join.

“I must say, I am a little surprised myself,” Avery admitted.

The conversation turned to other things as they began a rather circuitous route back to the dorms. They reached the common room at last, Osric’s legs aching as he scaled the first-years’ tower for the second time that day. The room was quieter now, a few groups of students huddled round the lit fireplace.

Osric made his excuses and retreated into his dorm, closed the door behind him and let out a deep sigh. Collapsing onto the bed, he sunk into its luxurious embrace. He lay there for a few minutes processing the events of the day. Sleep clawed at him, but he refused it, eventually forcing himself upright.

He busied himself with putting his things away. He placed a few tokens from home on the top of his chest of drawers, arranging them neatly in a row. He folded his spare shirt and trousers and placed them in the first drawer alongside his undergarments, their combined volume still only taking up half of the available space. Then there were the letters and envelopes his parents had given him. He thought for a moment about what he would say if he wrote to them now:

Dearest Mother and Father,

I write to you from the heart of Ravenhurst Academy, where my entire future appears to have been decided for me.

Many thanks for warning me about the lifelong oath I was forced to swear mere moments after arriving!

The Empire’s Newest Servant,

Osric Finch

Smirking to himself, he placed the stationary in the second drawer. If they wanted a letter from him, they would have to wait until his anger had died down. What did they expect, sending him here without a proper warning? In hindsight, his mother’s allusions to the Academy’s worship of the royal gods now seemed pitifully vague. Had they not known about the oath, and what it meant for Osric’s relationship with Elowen?

He reached into the bottom of his bag, pulling out the whittled idol that had occupied his thoughts many times over the course of his first day at Ravenhurst. Large, rounded eyes stared back at him, their surface bearing the telltale scrapes and flecks of an inexperienced hand.

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Many long hours had gone into its creation; Osric had pestered his father to teach him how to whittle after years of admiring Tiernan’s own wooden creations. Its form—long, flowing hair atop a delicate female body—had mostly been borrowed from the village’s statue of Elowen that he could see from his window. He had never met her before, but had spent many evenings asking the village elders, most of whom had, what she was like.

A pang of pain echoed from his burnt hand. Was that a warning? A threat of retribution if Osric strayed from the oath?

He lay back down on his bed, nursing his palm. A lump rose in his throat, the weight of his promise hitting him.

He had sworn to never worship Elowen again.

I’ll never meet her. I’ll never talk to her. I’ll never cast her magic.

His thumb trembled as it passed over the idol’s coarse grooves. It had been something he had looked forward to for as long as he could remember. He had dreamed of the day when he could start learning her spells.

‘Once you can control your feramancy,’ his father had said, ‘then, we will ask Elowen’.

That day had yet to come, and now it never would. Osric no longer had the strength to hold back the thoughts which tumbled out one after another.

Tears welled in his eyes.

Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking?

I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. I was too weak to stop them from sealing my fate.

Everyone back home will know. They’ll know what I’ve done and they’ll hate me for it. They’ll never look at me in the same way again.

Tears flowed freely now as he clutched the idol to his chest. The sobs came hard and fast as he let his grief spill out of him, knees curled up to his torso.

What have I done? I’ve lost her forever—and what for? The glory of the Empire?

I hate it here.

My parents have abandoned me, my friends don’t trust me anymore and soon everyone will know my secret. I—

“Osric?” Avery called, poking out from behind the door.

Panic flashed through Osric. He stuffed the idol under his pillow, sitting up and trying his best to look as if he wasn’t just crying.

How long had Avery been there?

“I do apologise,” Avery continued, “it’s time to head down for dinner.” He looked a little embarrassed, retreating back into the common room without waiting for a reply.

Osric took a deep breath. Adrenaline subsiding, he wiped his tears away, stood up, and straightened out his uniform. He grabbed the idol, pushing it to the back of his bottom drawer.

Avery, Edgar and Nellie were waiting for him outside. While Avery avoided Osric’s gaze, the other two greeted him warmly.

At least he hasn’t told them.

He reciprocated as best he could, joking about having needed a nap after his efforts in Professor Edwards’ lesson. They headed down to the Great Hall.

Dinner was served at 5pm exactly, plates of steaming beef wellington brought out by serving staff as soon as the last seat had been filled. It was every bit as delicious as lunch had been, although Osric still couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness he got from the food at Ravenhurst. His mood had improved a little, and he drifted in and out of the lively discussion happening around him. He looked up at the teachers’ table and spotted Mrs Waverly and Professor Edwards engaged in conversation.

“What’s on your mind?” Avery asked, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m thinking about what you said earlier,” Osric replied, “about Mrs Waverly knowing that my spell was old. I would ask, but I don’t imagine I’ll be able to get an audience with her without unwanted eavesdroppers.”

“I fear you may be right,” Avery said, “Not to make matters worse, but I believe she may resume her travels before long. Miss Forsyth mentioned that she was first evaluated nearly one year ago exactly, so it stands to reason that Mrs Waverly will begin her assessments for next year’s intake soon.”

Osric sighed, prodding at the last of his food.

“Well, that is hardly ideal. I may have to wait until it makes itself known. Besides, it’s the least of my questions.”

“Oh? Do tell…” Avery said, leaning forward in his chair.

“As you wish,” Osric answered, his eyes lighting up “What’s with all the out of bounds areas?”

Avery thought for a moment, “Renovations?”, he suggested.

“Could be… Why didn’t the Headmaster say that in his letter then?” Osric asked.

“Hm,” Avery said, his brow creased, “good point. Go on.”

Osric retrieved his map from his pocket and laid it out on the table between them. The two boys examined it, Osric pointing at the largest out of bounds region. It covered most of the north-eastern part of the grounds, including several prominent towers.

“Look here. What good reason could they have for blocking off this area? It’s almost a quarter of the entire academy!” Osric said, the growing conviction in his voice attracting the attention of a few students who sat nearby.

“Let us suppose it’s not renovations then. What else could it be?” Avery asked.

“I have no idea,” Osric admitted, shaking his head. “It’s worth investigating though, don’t you think?”

“Investigating?” Avery asked, “To what end? Osric, grown-ups sometimes do things without explaining them. There is probably some mundane reason for all this. It most likely isn’t worth the effort.”

Osric sighed in frustration, folding up his map and pocketing it.

“Osric, forgive me for asking,” Avery said, his voice softened, “but is this somehow connected to… what happened earlier? I know this is a big transition for all of us—”

“No, it’s not that,” Osric replied, eyes fixed on his empty plate, “I just want to understand. They ask a lot from us here and this time I want to know why.”

Avery nodded gently, the conversation seemingly at an end. It looked as if he wasn’t going to be of much help. Osric turned to Edgar and Nellie, but they were busy discussing which new spells they might learn first. He listened in for a moment, trying to find an opening, but all he could think about was all the spells he now wouldn’t be able to learn.

He turned to look once more at the teacher’s table. He couldn’t help but feel angry at them, chatting jovially amongst their statues of the gods, uncaring for the sacrifice they had pressured him into making. He shook his head.

Enough. I’ve made my choice. I could have fled, but I didn’t. I need to give Ravenhurst a proper chance, or it will all have been for nothing.

A quiet voice pierced his thoughts.

“It’s where the gods sleep.”