The Lost Crown Book 1: The Academy of Oswalda

“Hollis, it’s time to wake up.”

This time, the voice was loud and clear.

“Please, don’t hurt me!”

“Hollis?”

The combination of the man’s voice and my own screams finally woke me up. I was no longer in the strange village filled with smoke, blood, and angry strangers. Instead, I was in the safety of my small bedroom.

My hands immediately rose to my neck, but the rope wasn’t there.

My nightgown was soaked with cold sweat. Tears spilled down my cheeks until I could taste their saltiness in my mouth.

“Another nightmare?” my father asked, wiping sweat from my brow.

“Yeah,” I struggled out.

My mother, Sarah, walked in and stood at the foot of my bed, her eyes full of concern. Seeing the state I was in, her concern turned to plain sadness.

“Get ready, dear. Today is the day,” she said. Then, probably thinking the same thing that I was thinking—that the next time a nightmare struck, she wouldn’t be there to pull me out of it—she hung her head and slowly walked out of my room.

I’d been having the same nightmare for over a year now. Same accusations. Same fear. The same floating gray eyes begging me to keep fighting. It never changed. Well, except for the part where the villagers killed me. Sometimes, I’d wake up before anything happened. Other times, I’d die swinging under a giant oak tree with a noose around my neck.

The dream was so real that it made me feel like I knew the people who wanted me dead. Of course, that was just a figment of my imagination. But what awaited me today? Now that was 100 percent real.

I pushed the nightmare to the back of my mind and focused on getting ready for the big day. I washed my face and attempted to tame my black locks. My hair was long and curly, and it had always been a mess to deal with, but for some reason, I never wanted to cut it. Then I got dressed in the best clothes I owned and made my bed.

When my father had first found out that my mother was pregnant, he’d collected the last bits of savings he had, bought materials, and built a room in the back of the house. He’d constructed a new bed and even a wardrobe for my dresses. It wasn’t much, but it meant the world to me.

I appreciated everything my parents had done for me, but sometimes I felt like a burden to them. Many families in the kingdom were well off. We weren’t one of those families. Life in a village as small as Madison meant having to work hard just to survive, but if I could’ve, I would’ve given anything to make my parents’ lives just a little bit easier.

Every year, the young men and women of Berwick who turned eighteen on or before the first of October were expected to attend Oswalda Academy and find out if they had powers. Our country was mostly surrounded by water. However, there was a large section in the desert that was connected to the enemy territory, Arachnid. The family that ruled it was brutal. So, with Arachnid constantly threatening to harm our people, our kingdom had to gather all the youths, single out the ones with magical abilities, and train them so they could protect Berwick and its citizens.

The academy would teach us how to grow and manage our powers, but there was a good chance that even if you went in with powers, they might never grow. Or you could start the year with powers that were barely detectable and become extremely powerful by the time you graduated. It could really go either way.

Some people thought that having powers was a punishment, because the moment they were detected, your fate was decided.

That wasn’t how I saw it. The ability to defend the innocent was an honor. An honor I’d never get to experience because people in my family had no powers to speak of, and I was no exception. As down in the dumps as I was about the whole thing, Oswalda was my chance to find myself and to experience life outside of my village. I held on to the hope that somehow, I could find a way to be useful, fight for my country, and make my parents proud.

A girl could dream.

For people who wanted to take part in protecting the crown, they could always join the queen’s Army of Knights. If I learned how to wield a sword, that could be my path, but there was also another option—you could refuse to serve.

If I didn’t show any promise, I’d get sent home regardless, but I never understood the students with magical powers who chose to go home. I would’ve done anything, just about anything, to find my purpose, and those people turned their backs on all of it, even though it was the most dishonorable thing one could do.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my complicated thoughts.

“You ready, darling?” my father asked. His eyes and the tip of his nose were red.

I didn’t understand why my parents were so upset. Despite how skilled the Oswalda masters were, it was impossible for children who had magic-less parents to develop magical abilities. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, my parents had nothing to worry about because I’d be back in their arms soon enough.