*Author’s Note: In honor of the release of the last Harry Potter movie, I thought I would write a flash piece involving another school of magic mentioned in my WiP, the Phoenix Trilogy.*
“School of Sorcery”
Magna twirled the phoenix emblem on her necklace around. Her shoulder muscles bunched, and she rolled them to release the nervous energy. She stopped playing with the necklace and lit and unlit the candles with a snap of her fingers.
“What are you doing, child?” Her mother’s voice startled her.
She jerked and nearly plunge them into darkness. A sheepish smile quirked her lips as she relit the wicks.
“Sorry, mother.” She nodded her head in acknowledgement of her mother, the Queen of Amora. She studied the wrinkles creasing around her eyes. White streaked her hair. It had been several years since she had left her city for Apentha with her consort Prince Cyrun.
A flicker of a smile edged upon Queen Vyvian’s face before she embraced her only daughter. “I hope the Apenthans have been kind to their future queen.”
“They have, mother, but I do have a request.” She licked her lips, trying to draw moisture to her mouth as it fled from her. Her fingers turned cold, palms clammy.
“What is it?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong, Magna?”
“No, nothing wrong exactly. I-I want to open a school...a school of sorcery for the Royals to grow in their magical arts.” There. She said it.
The Queen sank into the plush throne chair. Her frail frame barely creased the cushions. “Magna, we’ve been over this. We have all the magical knowledge we need.”
She blew air through her nostrils and laughed. “Really? The Apenthan Royals use their magic all the time. It’s no wonder they blockaded our city and won. If we had trained in battle magic, I know things would’ve changed.”
“I thought you loved Cyrun.” Her voice was quiet, concerned.
Magna bristled. “I do love him. I do, but Apentha isn’t our only threat. You know the prophecies. We must learn from our past mistakes and not repeat them. We must train and use all our knowledge and not waste our talents on pretty light displays.”
She waited for her mother to speak, but she didn’t.
“I want to do this, mother. I ask it of you, my Queen. I know instructors—”
Her mother held up a hand, silencing her as effectively as a slap. Vyvian’s gaze grew distant, pensive. Magna’s body tensed, leaning forward in anticipation. Her plans would live or die upon her mother’s words...at least until she herself became queen. She held her breath, waiting, and stopped her tongue from blurting out more words that could harm her case.
“Very well, have your school of sorcery, my child.”