Immortal Consequences(4)

The Forgetting.

It was Blackwood’s way of keeping itself in balance, a part of the natural order. Once a student had been in Blackwood for a couple of hundred years, they would slowly begin to lose the memories of their previous life, a sign their soul was ready to transition into its next phase. Once a student had completely forgotten who they were when they were alive, they were permanently removed from Blackwood and sent to the Ether, where they’d reap lost souls for the rest of their existence. It’s also why students were given weekly reaping assignments, a way to prepare for their eternal duty. As grim as it might have seemed, it was simply the cycle of the afterlife, or so the Housemasters insisted. There were roughly five hundred students attending Blackwood Academy at any given time, and the Forgetting was a way for the school to purge itself of a student and welcome in a new one.

But it was also the reason everyone was desperate for the nomination.

The Decennial was the only escape from their inevitable end.

“Have you…” Wren searched for the right words, breath hitching in her throat.

“No,” August replied, somehow knowing what she was trying to ask. “My memories are still intact.”

“That’s a good thing…you know that, right?” Wren eyed him warily. “I know memories can be painful, but they can’t be worse than living the rest of your existence reaping lost souls on an eternal loop.”

A pained expression washed over August’s features. For a tense moment, Wren thought he might actually chip away at the wall between them, allowing her a glimpse into his past.

But then he simply let out a throaty chuckle and said, “Well, we won’t have to worry about that, will we? Considering I’m the top choice this Decennial.”

“And what makes you so certain?”

“The fact that Housemaster Marigold told me herself.”

Wren clenched her fists as an anticipated wave of fury bubbled in her chest. “Really?”

“Yep.” August stepped closer. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all,” she replied, challenging him by edging even closer. “Considering it isn’t true.”

“You think I’m lying?” August asked, more amused than offended.

“I know you are.”

“I’d never lie to you, darling. You’re simply lacking imagination.”

Wren groaned, losing her patience. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means perhaps you’re not considering how I got this information.” His gray eyes glimmered with satisfaction. “You’d be surprised at what a little mental push can do.”

Wren let out a breath of disbelief. “You didn’t.”

August smirked, triumphant. “Oh, but I did.”

“You can’t use psyche magic on a Housemaster,” Wren gasped. “That’s completely out of line!”

“Oh, it’s not as dramatic as it sounds. I simply gave her a nudge. Just enough of a spark to get the information out of her.”

“You meddled with her mind.”

August arched a brow. “And since when have you cared for the Blackwood rules? I don’t recall you being so self-righteous when you used that cloaking enchantment to sneak out past curfew last week.”

“That’s different.”

Wren didn’t need to explain herself. The truth was, she often found herself tossing and turning during the night. Plagued by dreams of the life she’d left behind. Wren had been in Blackwood for eighteen years. The same amount of time she’d been alive. But she still hadn’t been able to completely silence that voice in her mind that ached for the comfort of home. If she let herself, she could still remember long summers walking along the shoreline, sea-foam tucked between her toes. The crisp autumn air rustling the yellow leaves above her family’s home in midcoast Maine. Snow days spent bundled next to the fire listening to Etta James and making ginger cookies.

Her mother, hair as red as her own, sitting by the piano. The smile lines etched into her skin from years of laughter.

“How convenient,” August mused, pulling her back to reality. “But maybe it’s time you simply congratulated me on my upcoming nomination.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a wistful sigh. “Augustine Hughes. A member of the Ascended. Has a nice ring to it.”

“You may be a top contender,” Wren said with a tinge of bitterness, “but so am I.”

He shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. But…I reap souls faster than you. Which, despite your annoying capacity to consistently get high marks, actually means something in the grand scheme of things.”

“Well. I’m sure I’m not the first girl to tell you this, but faster isn’t always better.”

“That’s not—” August broke off, stopping himself, and let out a low chuckle. “You know, Loughty, you might be the only person brazen enough to speak to me that way. Not to mention back in my old life—”

“Oh?” Wren lifted a brow in mock surprise. “Is the mysterious and elusive Augustine Hughes actually going to tell me something about his old life?”

He smirked.

“Not in this eternity, darling.”

A muted anger ran through Wren. God, he knew how to push her buttons.