The Spade Chronicles Book 0: Eagles Rising
Catalyst

Sing, oh stars in the heavens above, and through me tell the story of that great warrior.

Tell me how she danced across the battlefield for the sake of her adopted country,

Sing the song of the storm of blades as she slashed through her enemies,

The story of her journey to that shining castle on a mountain,

Tell the tale of her rise to power and glory,

Sing of the . . .

Wait

See? This is the story I was telling you about.

It seems like a normal story to me.

It’s not I swear! Just keep watching.

Alright let’s get this over with so I can go back to being dead.

No seriously, I think this is a problem.

Chapter 1

Catalyst

When you read the epics and hear the legends, you expect every great tale to have a remarkable beginning, some sort of sign or omen warning of turbulent times. Whenever I look back to that day I can’t help but wonder at how unremarkable, how ordinary, that turning point was. One decision. One mistake to turn the tide. But decisions can have a greater impact than we think. And one mistake can bring entire civilizations to their knees. Or maybe I was just bound by destiny. Maybe, as arrogant as it may seem, I was born for this life of mine. All I know is, for better or worse, this is the day it starts.

My mother was driving me to school on the way to her law firm when she spoke.

“Allie, sweetie, how is school going?”

I looked up from putting the finishing touches on purple eyeshadow to glance at her.

“It’s going well, we started to read The Outsiders in English, and I’ve already read ahead,” she nodded, knowing that I usually did this with English assignments.

“Just don’t let that get in the way of completing the work from your other classes,” I smiled at her and assured her I wouldn’t.

“I’m worried about you, Allie, the principal called me yesterday and she said she suspects you’re being bullied. Is that true?”

I tensed, this was a conversation I had been dreading for months. I quickly recovered and put up a smile.

“I’m fine Mom, really. You shouldn’t be worried, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Just because you can handle something doesn’t mean you should.”

I gazed out the window to avoid looking at her. I knew she was right, but I didn’t see a way to stop those teasing me. I tried everything they teach you to when you were a little kid. I tried being nice to them, and they scoffed. I tried to ignore them, but they kept coming, so I gave up on making peace. Now whenever someone tried to mock me I just found whatever flaw I could replace and threw it back at them as fiercely as I could. Mom sighed, pulling into the drop off lot.

“Allie, I’m worried-”

“Just forget about it,” I snapped, not wanting the conversation to go on.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

I opened the car door to leave, relieved that I didn’t have to face anyone just yet.

I strode toward the entrance, ready to begin the morning as I had every day for the past three years.

I slammed the school doors open and the hall crowd quieted, turning to stare as I stepped inside. I stood and waited with one hand on my hip as the crowd lowered their eyes and parted for me, not wanting to be caught on my war path. Once clear, I continued on my way, black high heeled boots cracked against the floor as I made my way to the cafeteria, staring down anyone who dared to meet my eye.

I took my seat at the center of my table, as always, to wait for the first bell to ring. When the harassment reached the point where my friends abandoned me, they stopped sitting at my lunch table. Back then, we sat at the back of the room, away from the eyes of teachers and hall monitors. Shortly after, I decided to move to the center of the cafeteria, I arrived before the clique that typically sat there, and when they saw me, they quickly migrated to the now vacant back table. Now I could always expect the center table to be empty for me each morning. Before I could relax, however, I was approached by the one person who made an effort to annoy me each morning. He gave me a once over, noting my bodycon dress and leather jacket. He raised his eyebrows at the yellow carnation necklace I bought after reading a book on the language of flowers.

“Impeccably dressed as always, I see. Really Alice why do you even bother? No amount of footwear will be able to drag you out of the rabbit hole you’ve fallen into.”

Word around school claimed Lance was the son of Genevieve Pendragon, the author that famously brought the Tales of King Arthur to life in her novel series documenting a King in a country named England and claimed a throne by drawing a sword from a stone and went on to found an organization of knights that gathered around a round table. I admired her work but thought that her son could use a bit more revision before being released into the world. He didn’t bother me much at first but pretty soon he became the pack leader of those who got a kick out of toying with me. Lance wasn’t the cruelest of the culprits but he was certainly the most frequent. His popularity made him infuriating. He often looked down at me from the throne being a seemingly chivalrous scholar on the school soccer team bestowed upon him. His eyes in particular caught most girls’ attention. They were a dark, night sky blue, framed strands of smooth raven hair that seemed to captivate anyone he spoke to.

Unfortunately for him, that affect never had much sway over me.

After all, his throne once belonged to me.

“What I do and don’t wear is none of your concern, Lance, and My name is Allie, not Alice. Get it right or go bother someone else,” I snapped, irritation making me harsher than usual. Lance recoiled, looking taken aback for a moment before recovering.

“Someone’s feisty today, hmm? It appears someone’s woken up on the wrong side of the looking glass.”

Harmless as he was, that didn’t stop him from being obnoxious. It was really a shame though, because Alice in Wonderland was one of my favorite stories before he showed up.

“Yes, it seems I did, I was unfortunate enough to land on the side with you in it.”

He looked as though he was about to respond before the bell rang. I hurried to get my bag in my locker and march to english class. I made it to my seat just in time and took out my copy of The Outsiders.

“Good morning class,” called Ms. Grean from her place at the front of the room, “Today we will be replaceing and analyzing examples of foreshadowing in the novel. Now when Ponyboy refers to the lit end of a cigarette-” A piece of paper landed on my notebook. All over the page there were crude drawings of white rabbits and card soldiers, at the top was an attempted depiction of me dressed as Alice in front of the Queen of Hearts. Below the caption said: ’Off with her head!’ I sneered. I didn’t know who they thought they were dealing with, but a scrap of paper certainly wasn’t worth my time, especially if it was sent by a coward too rabbit hearted to sign their work.

I casually got up to throw the paper away, wary of any attempts to trip me. Tossing the sheet into the recycle bin, I reaffirmed my disdain. After a few rounds of getting shoved into a corner by hostile groups of students a half-baked attempt at mockery was of little consequence.

The bell sounded the end of class and a reluctantly headed to P.E. As soon as I walked into the gym I saw the obstacles set up on the field inside the track. Mr. Barnes had the girls running exercises for the gymnastics unit while the boys took the pacer test inside, which I was grateful for, because it gave me a reprieve from Lance and his constant annoyances. My relief, as I was soon to replace out, was short lived.

It began when I was running laps around the track, taking care not to step in puddles left by the previous night’s storm. The track itself was mostly dry, with a few wet spots here and there. Along the edge, however, there was a large murky pool where the pavement dipped. I was wary of it because I was running along the outer ring of the track. I was coming up on it for the third time when a shout was heard over the girls’ pounding feet.

“Hey Alice! Long time no see!”

I groaned. The voice belonged to none other than Rose Hart. She was built like an amazon and had long red hair tied back in a braided bun. She was one of my main tormentors aside from Lance but where Lance acted out more often than Rose, her attacks were more severe, and often resulted in minor injuries.

“For what must be the hundredth time, Rose, my name is Allie, not Alice.” She only snorted as she continued to stalk toward me until we were at arm’s length. We were both the same age but she towered a full five inches over me at 5’9. I forced my face into an expression of apathy as she opened her mouth to retort.

“Are you sure, Allie? Because last time I checked you were as mad as a hatter, so the name Alice suits you better, don’t you think?” I clenched my jaw, normally these kind of remarks were standard practice, but I found they ground on my nerves more than usual today.

“Rose I really admire your persistence in being pathetic but to be honest craning my neck to look down on you does grow tiring so could you go somewhere else? I don’t want to waste my time talking to you when there are more intelligent conversations to be had.” Rose’s face went blank, other than correcting my name, I never talked back to her in favor of ignoring her. All was quiet, but then I felt her hand grab my shoulder and shove me into the water behind me.

I didn’t really think about what I did next; all I knew was that I was angry. For years I had been tormented, teased, and made fun of, but now I was done. I was done with so many days ruined by the humiliation, of constantly turning the other cheek. I was sick and tired of the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I had to reign in my anger. If she wanted to fight then so be it. Before I could register the action I drew my leg back from my position on the ground and lashed out against her knee. She fell back with a yell but I was already up and walking away. I tracked muddy water into the gym as I made my way to the locker rooms. The boys had finished their test, and were resting as Mr. Barnes went outside so the girls could start their sit and reach test. I slipped his notice as he made his way behind me, so I stormed across the gym unhindered. Lance came up to me as I was opening the door to the locker room, his face flushed with concern when he saw the state I was in. His words came out at a rush

“Blades, Allie are you alright? You’re not injured are you?”

I bared my teeth at him and continued on, flicking my hair as I tore past him to splatter mud on his face before I yanked the door to the locker room open. Before crossing the room I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I saw my slightly upturned nose smeared with mud and brown eyes framed by raven hair that now hung in wet clumps around my face. My bangs came down above my eyebrows until it hung lower at the corner of my left eye. I spent more time than I would have liked analyzing my reflection. The longer I gazed at the mess the more I looked like someone down on their luck. I looked like someone who let themselves be pushed around so I stood up straight and began to clean my face. I turned away after wiping the mud from my face and went out the door. I had a brush in my bag. I fought back tears and gripped the locker door. I wouldn’t let myself fall apart. This had happened before and I would deal with it the same way I always did. Instead of crying I walked around the side to the school where a dense forest grew and the sidewalk was trapped by grass that grew tall and unchecked. I searched the ground before I found a trail of flattened plants that marked where the thief broke off to walk in the forest. Whoever took my bag had emptied its contents and hung them along the trees, each item deeper in the wood than the last. The trail led pretty deep into the forest, ending with my necklace in the dirt.

After fixing my necklace around my neck I sat down against a tree’s trunk, emotionally exhausted, and finally let myself cry.

I looked like I didn’t care, like I was above all of the harassment, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t take its toll.

How had I fallen so far? One day, I’m the talk of the town, then the next I’m a pariah. I refused to believe I was the problem, but being shut out still hurt everyday.

It didn’t matter how badly it hurt, though, I refused to break.

The air started to hum and I looked up, startled. The trees around me had changed. I didn’t recognize the woods anymore. It seemed as though the forest exploded with life. I could hear the flutter of birds wings and the wind rustling the leaves. The scent of fresh air felt intoxicating, a taste of spring in the midst of winter. My vision sharpened, the green of the trees and the rich blue of the flowers lining the forest becoming more vivid than ever before. I felt like I could grasp lightning in the sky and drag it crashing down to earth. I stood there for a few moments, drunk on this newfound sense of power. I closed my eyes and felt the air hum with energy and crackle along my skin and settle in my palms and solidified. Startled I looked down at my hands to replace each curled around a small dagger. It shouldn’t have been possible but somewhere in my bones I knew I made them. I knew how easy it would be to send blades flying into any target my eyes landed on.

I dropped the daggers like they were coals and backed away into a tree. I wasn’t bloodthirsty. I was a target of the bulk of the student body but I didn’t want to kill anyone.

Why did holding those daggers feel so comforting? So natural?

“Hey, I found one,” called a gruff voice from behind me.

I whipped around, accidently sending another blade in the direction of a voice. For a split second I was terrified I would kill the old man who spoke. His hand lashed out and the dagger froze in mid air, trapped in what looked like a glass bubble. The dagger twisted as his hand spun and brought it to his face for closer inspection.

“Nice craftsmanship, though I don’t really appreciate being attacked so early in the day. I haven’t even finished my coffee,” he grouched, waving a coffee cup in my direction with one hand while absentmindedly sending my dagger into the woods in the direction he pointed it at with the other. A squirrel scurried up him and settled on his shoulder and gazed at me without a trace of fear.

“What’s going on?” I asked with a quaking voice. The man took an obnoxiously drawn out sip of his drink before speaking. His clothes were strange, a black cloak covered a silver breastplate emblazoned with a black dragon and black trousers. A hood was drawn over pale purple eyes surrounded by smile lines.

“They didn’t brief you on this before they sent you over? I should report your world’s praetor.” he inquired with a raised brow. I shook my head. Not wanting to create anymore wayward weapons I curled my hands into fists and tucked them under my arms. His old lavender eyes softened.

“You poor thing, scared of your own magic. You must come from a stale world.”

“A what?” I quivered, still shaking.

“A stale world. That’s what we call places where magic doesn’t come naturally to humans. Magic is intuitive here, though every person has a different way of manifesting it,” his voice took on a strict, clipped tone, like he was talking to a recently recruited soldier.

“Where is ‘here’?” I asked, calming down.

“We’re in Ivaline, the world that connects all worlds. More specifically speaking we’re in Spade, one of four countries.”

“Wait. How do I get home? I can’t stay here my mom and dad will be worried. I have to go back,” I stammered, sure this man would understand where I was coming from but he shook his head.

“It’s not quite so simple. Getting into Ivaline is easier then getting out. Ivaline connects all worlds, so most gateways between worlds lead into Ivaline. If you’ve seen doors shaped in trees or stones, or a shadow where it wasn’t supposed to be, that’s a gate. Stepping through it will put you to the country your most compatible with. Your soul’s drawn to it, see? The thing is in order to get back you have to know how to make a gateway in this world that leads to yours and from the looks of things you come from a stale world, so the connection between the two probably hasn’t been documented.”

“So I’m stuck here? I can’t leave?” I despaired as tears started to roll down my face. I looked down. A dagger formed in my palm at will only this time my hand shook

“I hate to say it but you may not belong in your old world anymore.” The man’s voice was soft but stern, the voice of a parent when telling a child a harsh reality.

“What do you mean? Of course I belong there. It’s all I’ve ever known,” I protested with quivering lips only to have the man shake his head.

“The magic within you has been unlocked now. Brought to the surface. It’s a part of you now. Even if you returned right now that’s no guarantee you will be treated the same as you were when you left.”

I threw the dagger into the ground.

“You think I don’t know what that feels like?” I sobbed, “I know what it’s like to be singled out. I can handle it.” The old man’s tilted his head and regarded me again.

“Just because you can handle something doesn’t mean you should.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“Facing adversity is admirable, yes, but if the challenge doesn’t benefit you it’s okay to leave it behind. If you don’t pick your battles wisely you may collapse from the strain when the one that matters begins,” he said and everything stopped. I looked to the sky, so blue and vast, not at all like the dreary clouds that hung over my school. My school, where everyone put me in their crosshairs. And all I did was take it.

Why did I do it? Up until now I seethed in my own indignation, furious with the world for dragging me down so low. But what if I let that anger go? Would it be easier? Could I be happy?

“Do . . . Do you think things could be different? Could things get better?” I asked, voice still broken and shaking from tears. The old man smiled.

“Now that’s up to you, now isn’t it?” the man said with a smile, and I smiled back.

“Yes, it is. Thank you,” I said as I wiped the last of the tears from my face.

“Good. Now what’s your name?” the old man asked, taking a small pouch from inside his cloak.

“Allie. Allie Sage.”

“Pleased to meet you Miss Sage. The name’s Carrick. Now my job is to send new arrivals like yourself north, toward the Spade capital,” he introduced himself, pulling out a silver gauntlet as he did so. He took my hand then, slipping the cool metal over my forearm. The metal warped magically to fit my arm and was engraved with an eagle with its talons around a sword. On the end closer to my wrist there was a built in compass whose needle didn’t quite point north.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This marks you as a student bound for the Spade palace. This world is used to newcomers see? Other worlds have become accustomed to sending some of their youths to Ivaline every year, so every nation has their own policies in place for taking care of those newcomers and assimilating them into the population. Here in Spade you’re to travel towards the capital, where you’ll be trained in our lifestyle and eventually choose a trade. You’re to travel alone but the compass on that gauntlet twill point you in the direction of a family paid by the government to house you and buy any supplies you may need. The nearest town is Avanye, you’ll know it by the barracks and training fields. Off you go, and best of luck to you.”