Last Hope

By A. M. Reynwood

The carriage arrived late in the afternoon, but Sebastian didn’t get out right away. He peered through the frosted glass at the house, its cobblestone siding glowing in the sunset. Candles flickered in the snow laden windows like watchful eyes.

Sebastian glanced at the paper on the bench beside him. The dreaded “yellow slip”— worst fear of every student at the College. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Stuffing the paper into his pocket, Sebastian opened the door and stepped out. He grabbed his luggage and tromped through the half-frozen slush coating the pavement. Behind him, the driver cracked his whip and drove the carriage on, taking with it Sebastian’s last chance to run away.

Not that running had solved anything for him thus far.

The front door sprang open as he reached the porch landing. His mother stood on the threshold, eyes dour and arms akimbo. She held a distinctly blond sheet of paper in her fist. “Welcome home, Sebastian. Although I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Sebastian shivered on the threshold. “Don’t we all?”

His father walked out from the parlor, frown lines deep. “We’ll discuss this at dinner,” was all he said.

An hour later, Sebastian entered the dining room and sat down. The room felt chillier than the back yard, as though all the warmth was being eaten up by the paper sitting on the table.

“You were doing so well,” his mother said. “High grades, commendations from the professional community—even a medal. And then we get a notice for your imminent expulsion. What happened?”

Sebastian stared down at his untouched mashed potatoes. They knew exactly what happened; they just didn’t care. No one did.

His father slammed a fist on the table, rattling the cutlery. “The College sought you out because of your abilities. They’ve given you a chance for a better future than you could get anywhere else, and you’re just going to throw it away? For what? That demon friend of yours?”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Anger exploded in Sebastian’s chest, his hands curling into fists. “And I’m not obligated to the College. I chose to go, and now I choose─”

The words caught in his throat.

“What? To fail? To be kicked out of the most prestigious school of magic?”

“N-no.”

His mother’s bony fingers wrung her napkin. “Then what?”

“I don’t know!” Sebastian shot to his feet, chair scraping. “I just…”

Before they could pursue the argument, he stalked out, went to his old room, and flopped onto the bed.

There’s no reason to keep trying.

Not after the war ended. Not after his best friend fell into an Abyssal Rift. He’d spent months researching a way to get in, sacrificing his grades and attendance record to find Kurt. But magic could only go so far. It couldn’t open a gateway from the outside. And now his obsession had cost him nearly as much as the war.

He pulled the paper from his pocket. Expulsion would cripple any future career in magic and reflect negatively on everything else, including his family. The College had given him ten days to reconsider his “wayward path,” then sent him home.

That was three days ago.

But the whole point was to graduate together. What should I do, Kurt?

In the dim light, the wadded creases and spidery script looked like cracks in stone. He stiffened, pulse quickening as an old, unhappy memory came to mind.

Back then, an ancient curse had stolen his childhood innocence. Yet now it might be his last hope.

Sebastian raced down the carpeted staircase, the varnish on its banister worn by years of sliding along it into the foyer. Silver light splashed across the room from the big windows on either side of the front entrance. Ghosts of boyhood adventures lingered in the dented doorframes and scuffed floorboards. In Grandma’s porcelain vase, pasted back together after Kurt knocked it over during a game of tag. In the scorched wallpaper after Sebastian’s first attempt at casting magic.

The memories suffusing this place threatened to drive Sebastian mad if he didn’t leave. If he didn’t do something.

But his father stopped him at the door. “Where are you going so late? This is no time for another one of your childish escapades.”

“It’s not,” Sebastian muttered, hand on the latch. Nerves tingling. Impatient. “I’m looking for something.”

His father’s penetrating gaze probed for an answer that Sebastian hadn’t the words for. He pleaded silently for this one, last chance. Before it was too late. For everything.

Eventually his father nodded. “I hope you find it, for all our sakes.”

“Me, too.”

Sebastian flew out the door, heart and feet pounding a wild beat as he ran through the dim, empty streets. He passed gabled homes and half-timbered shops as he followed a years-old path into the woods outside of town. Cold air bit his lungs with every gasp, slush and snow seeping into his shoes to numb his feet. But he didn’t stop until the trees broke into a familiar clearing. Piles of stone and the stumps of shattered pillars littered the ground.

Panting and shivering, Sebastian strode the ancient walkways into a vestibule of doorways. In the center stood a plaque covered in chipped yellow paint.

“Cursed art thou who trespass into Ruyn.”

As boys, they’d been too curious and ignorant to heed the warning, and Kurt had borne the brunt of their mistake ever since.

You’ve always taken the fall for me, and now everyone thinks you’re just a tool that’s served its purpose. They want me to give up and go back. Should I?

No. He would never give up on Kurt. Not ever.

Sebastian passed the plaque and approached the threshold of the only doorway not blocked by rubble. Moonlight spilled into the vestibule, but it didn’t touch the shadows pooling before him.

A gateway into the Abyss, held open for centuries without magic.

There was still time.

“Hold on Kurt. I’m coming.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A. M. Reynwood lives on a wee farm in Arcadia, NY where she can usually be found reading or hoarding the kitchen for her small bakery business. Since 2013 she has published a seven-novel speculative fantasy fiction series as well as a whimsical short story, and is always working on another tale to tell.

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