4

Dove

After dressing and wrapping my wounds from the imps during the exam, I returned to the military style tents. A girl with flaming red hair and pristine white robes rifled through my bag. Someone had called her Sana the day before. She wore the white belt of a monk, the rank between novices and Elders.

Sana leafed through one of my demonology books. I snatched it from her hands, clutching it tightly to my chest.

"I'm sorry. Elder Peter sent me to assist you with anything you needed, Dove." Holy Foxes prided themselves on remembering the name of every visitor of their shrine.

"And to snoop through my things?" I scoffed, "You can inform him that I'm leaving now."

Her eyes scanned over my dark outfit, black jeans, and a leather jacket.

I passed by her, stuffing the bloodstained clothes from that morning's exam into the bag. I touched my small collection of daggers and blades hidden beneath my clothes. The ones from today were nearly unusable now because human metals dissolved under demon blood and hellfire.

"So you like demonology?" she asked.

"I like killing demons," I answered.

I opened the demonology book, flipping to the page. The spine creased into memory, accustomed to opening there. My own drawing resting between the pages, an image of my nightmares, of my past. So that I would never forget. The archdemon and his minion that I'd seen through the slats of the door. It was all in black and white, except for the blood. That, I painted red.

After a year of training on my own to kill demons, I still didn't get accepted into the academy. My time serving the goddess had brought me nothing but misery and pain. None of the promised magic for piety. And training to kill demons hadn't brought me peace either. Nothing would, not until I killed that archdemon.

And if the goddess wouldn't do it, I had to avenge what had been done at Hawthorn.

"Elder Peter mentioned you grew up in a temple? Maybe you can apply for a position as a monk," Sana said. If I told her the truth, she'd pity me. I'd seen that look a hundred times. I didn't want pity. I wanted revenge. I'd relied on the temples' generosity for my entire life. I had thought that I would finally make my own way.

Sana stroked a nonexistent wrinkle from her immaculate white robes. She probably spent hours scrubbing them, sun-bleaching them to remove every dot of impurity. She was pious, devout, and fully dedicated to the goddess.

She smiled at me, as though she wasn't a faux-security escort dragging me away from my dream of attending the academy.

Sana gestured to the door as I finished packing my meager belongings. "It's such an honor to serve in such a prestigious shrine. Did you get a chance to explore and see all the sacred weapons? Some are from nine-tailed kitsune."

"Have you seen the statue of the goddess?" I scoffed, near laughter. Because this temple wasn't like the one I'd grown up in, and based on her frown and the cleanliness of her robes, it wasn't like hers either.

Foxfire Academy focused on training all the recruits to slaughter as many demons as possible. Not worshiping the goddess. As we neared the front gates, I turned back for one last look at the magnificent academy, responsible for training almost every single nine-tailed kitsune in the past two centuries.

"You know, many foxes live carefree lives among humans," Sana chimed.

I let my laughter flow now. "Is that why you took up the robes? You don't need to lie to me, Sana."

She turned sullen, taking out a large greenish brass key. "Be careful, especially if you plan to stay in Lethe. The Lord of Nightmares hides in the shadows of demons. Don't let his tails fool you."

"A rogue kitsune?" I asked.

"The worst kind," Sana said and pushed against the wrought iron. The gate clunked loudly, creaking as it opened.

"Hey! Wait!" A Holy Fox waved his arms to catch our attention, sprinting at a strenuous pace. "Dove Hawthorn!"

Sana gawked, looking over me with new eyes. "Hawthorn? The massacre last year?"

I met her gaze for just a moment, a plea to keep silent. The shrines acted as an orphanage for young foxes, especially for those without magic. When nameless children arrived, they were given the surname of the shrine that adopted them.

The monk reached us, leaning forward and clutching his knees to catch his breath. "Elder...Peter...needs you." He gestured behind him, where the Elder, in his white robes with a red belt, crossed the grassy front of the campus with leisurely strides. I half-expected him to be carried by four monks on a palanquin.

"Leaving already?" he said when he reached us, silencing Sana with a flick of his eyes. "I figured you'd want to see the results of your blood tests." He held out a yellow envelope for me.

I doused any hope before it could overtake me. The wretched old man planned to drive my worthlessness into the ground, a small punishment for all the annoyance I'd caused him over the past couple days. "We both know the results."

"I insist."

I took the folder, opened it and pulled out the wad of papers within. The bundle flapped in the wind. I dropped my bag to the ground to get hold of the stack. At the top of the first page, stamped in capital red letters, a new path opened for me.

FATED