By Astraea B.

Prologue

In one world, supernatural abilities were possessed.

     These powers were passed on by the parents to the children. At the age of ten, these supposedly good children were sent to the school of Slayers, who were meant to kill the evil demons that were born. These Slayers would use a magic ability unique to themselves to defeat the demons.

As well as the blessed, there were as usual, the cursed. Those with evil parents would be cursed to become a demon. Those children would transform into monsters at the age of thirteen, and in that state, they required human blood. If they were not able to fulfill their desire within a day, they would die by the next dawn. They would be brought to the School of Demons by age ten.

People with average parents were born as regular mortals, not blessed, but not cursed. These people still ran businesses, and went about their lives. Before the age of ten, they would not separate themselves and the slayers from the demons, because before the demons transformed, they were no real threat.

Chapter 1. 

 I was not normal, though it may have looked that way.  Maybe that was why I got sent to the orphanage? But no. I was sent here because my parents were criminals. I watched them get executed when I was four. I had learned what real life was. It was not the fairytale some people depicted it as. It was a warzone. 

 Life was boring, but acceptable life at the orphanage. There was no color or surprise there. It had an everyday routine, just like the one that normal kids with parents would go about each morning: brush hair, eat breakfast, brush teeth… I wished I could be like those normal kids. They didn’t realize how lucky they were. Complaining that carrots taste bad, or calling their dad ‘the worst’ for sending them to bed at 9 PM. It might seem bad. I could assure each and every one of them that the orphanage was worse. They were lucky to have parents at all.

I was brought to the orphanage at the age of two, and didn’t remember much else other than hearing the orphanage runners discussing:

“She does not appear to be like the other children,” the headmaster said.

“ I feel that she may possess an ability that we do not know of.”

“It cannot be possible, ” the advisor explained,  “because her parents were both criminals. Only children with good parents can inherit abilities.”

“ Ah. I remember that now. I agree. Let’s give her a bed and take her in. I see no reason to separate her from the other children. At this point, she is not a threat. We can send her away when she becomes one.”

 That was all I had heard, but I doubted myself forever after that. Was I a demon? I didn’t know.

Chapter 2.  

I woke up to the sound of children lining up, like Romans forming ranks.  Oh no, I woke up late again! I’m in so much trouble, I thought. Then I checked the time,  it read: 6:27, but they woke us up at 7 o’clock. It’s probably nothing, I thought. Then I closed my eyes. A minute later I heard a knock on my door. I sat up straight in my bed. What…?  Who could possibly be here at this hour?

“Come in,” I said as the door creaked open. Two women stepped inside. The Mages, I thought, the runners of the school for the Slayers. The tallest of the couple, a woman I guessed was the head of the school, wore a velvet dress that was studded with rubies. Her hair was tied back into a navy blue veil. Her eyes were dark, but free of loathing. She walked up to me and her comrade followed. 

“I hear that you have been experiencing some… social difficulties,” 

 Social difficulties?  I speculated. What kind of social difficulties did I have? I had always felt like someone was watching me. Were these women the ones I had been sensing? What right did the mages have to be watching my every move? What right did anyone have? 

“What kind of ‘social difficulties’?” I asked. This time the other woman stepped forward. She wore a flowy, but still dark dress. It was covered in an emerald lining that looked like vines climbing up a tree. She took one look at me, whispered something to the head, and waved her finger at me. 

Poof! 

Suddenly, I was standing upright with my hair in a bun. Instead of standing in my pajamas, I wore a girl’s slayer outfit:  short black stretchy jeans, a warm-gray T-shirt which looked like it had been sloppily cut by scissors repeatedly, white combat boots, and a navy blue mesh sweater. Last but not least, a brown tool belt with various sized pockets and a sheath for a sword. Great news! The delivery came without an actual sword. 

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“Nothing, really. Just that—” 

I cut her off. “Just that I look like a complete moron? Yeah, I should have seen that coming.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Back to the point: I am counselor Leliah of the School of Slayers, and I think you do indeed have ‘social difficulties’,” She said. “I have seen many issues that you have experienced in the past few months.” 

“Like what?” I glanced around the room, hoping that this was a dream. 

“Well,  I saw you sit down for lunch at a table with a few other kids. The moment you sat down, every other child stood up and walked away,” The counselor said. 

“That’s a coincidence,” I said.

“I also watched you say hello and introduce yourself to—” 

“This is irrelevant! Why are you here?” I asked. I began to twist my fingers. It was a bad habit that I had when I got nervous. I started to sweat. Whatever the answer was, it couldn’t be good. The Mages don’t come barging into people’s houses every day. Again, the Head Mage spoke.

“We came here to offer a more accepting environment to you at the school of Slayers. We know you were not raised by the kindest people, but because you have potential, we might be able to train you to use it for the greater good.” 

“What potential do I have? I’m supposed to be a demon! My parents were criminals.” I had no basis to believe what she was saying. 

Chapter 3.

“Well… I’ll admit that I am not entirely sure of your ‘potential’,” the Head Mage said.

“See? We agree. Now please leave. This new environment probably will not work out the way we both want it to. I’ve learned that from experience.” I nudged my head towards the door. 

“I promise, this will fix your problems. And the reason we think that you have potential is because you have shown unrealistic composure, as well as your unnatural self-trust and self esteem.” Apparently, the Head Mage had composure under pressure, too. 

“Please leave!” I half shouted, half asked. For a moment, I felt stupid, shouting at the Head Mage and counselor like it would do more than annoy them. ‘Had I been watching too many cartoons? ‘You idiot!’ I thought. ‘It’s not like you can just say, leave!’ and the Mages will magically fly out the door,” I scolded myself.

Except, that’s almost exactly what happened: one moment later, I felt a surge of power. I pointed my finger at the door in a trance, and a lamp flew at approximately one hundred miles an hour, where it smashed to pieces after meeting the handle of the door. Slowly, my awareness started to stroll off into nothingness, leaving me possessed by my own newfound, uncontrolled ability. Another decoration flew towards the door. Suddenly, I regained control of my actions. Only then did I realize that the Mages were looking at me like I’d just fallen from the sky and landed on my feet. A window flew open. A strong, warm, gust of wind floated in. Unfortunately, along with it came two birds and their nest. I immediately felt quite faint. I could not even describe how scared and surprised I was. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

“How is this possible?” The Head whispered to her comrade. “Demons never inherit abilities!” 

“Maybe since she was barely around her parents at all, her instincts were able to take advantage of the opportunity to become her best self.” Leliah suggested. Apparently, my brain found this an efficient time to pass out, so that’s what I did.

About the Author

Astraea B. is a ten year old girl who loves to write and draw. She particularly enjoys writing fiction and fantasy novels in first person.