Dedicated to Hannahbanana845 for being a supportive reader, thank you!
Luna is a name for the moon. I am not a giant rock that floats in the sky. I am not an orb of light at night that brightens everything just that bit more. I am Luna Bestow, fortune teller, magic Spool and darkness Chaser. A Spool is consider the middle class Fable. Fable meaning a creator of magic and hunter of all things sinister. Being a Chaser-in learning-I now the ways of which the darkness travels. It's thoughts and its possessions. Knowing this would mean one of two things: 1) You are a Chaser or 2) You are a Dark Knight. I am no Dark Knight. They are deprived of. Thought of disgustingly. Spat at. They create the darkness. It's absolutely awful.
Before I said I was a fortune teller. A very good one so it seems. Although most of the things I see in my Crystal Orb of Infinite Knowledge (or Coik of short, or so I made up) is not fortunes, but misfortunes. It must be something to do with knowing the ways of Darkness. I'm only in training so I have a lot to learn. I'm in my third year of Fable Knowledgable Students of the World. The name is a bit weird, and the students more so. As I said my name is Luna, I don't have the worst name. There are worse names such as "Sunshine" he hates his names, but learns to live with it. Yes, HE. Then there's Wicklewoe. She specialises I the art of Burning Flame magic. The list is endless of the students. Even though there are a small amount of us who are magically gifted. I would expect more. All of the Spool's (that's me) are in one class at the highest room of the lowest tower. It's dark and it smells like someone lit a candle in it and forgot to blow it out for a century or two. You might say it smells heavenly, but it's too strong after a while. I'm sitting at the back with Wicklewoe, of which is one of my friends and Shocks. You don't want to now why he's called Shocks.
Ms Buïldovard walks into the class with a flare of mysterious smoke. I don't know how this smoke happens but a Weave once told me it was being close to dark magic so long that bits of it frail behind you. A Weave is the upper class Fable.
"Candles alight." She says, her voice soft and gentle but had depth and mystery to it. I take out my purple candle along with its silver and emerald candle holder. I lit it with a wave of my hand over the wick, like I had been taught when I was a Skein. We Fables hold magic at the tips of our fingers, we are taught how to flush this magic through the rest of our bodies to make us wiser and greater. Or so they say. The flame flickered on its wick as I looked into it. Wicklewoe was better at this sort of thing. But I saw something. It was definitely something this time, not just a fuzzy picture in the distance. It was a picture of a cloak. A black cloak with a hood, and silver buttons. The type that the Dark Knights wear. I stifled a gasp. These candles told our future, they were especially made to do so. I, of all people, couldn't, wouldn't, become a dark might. It wasn't right. It wasn't just. It wasn't me. I'm Luna, not some creepy guy in a hood!
Shocks cocked his head to the side, he saw surprise creep into my face that I tried to hide. I let the matter pass over. I should really say something, but what's the worst that could happen?
YOU ARE READING
That Beautiful Kind of DarknessTeen Fiction
Deleting a different book I have decided to write a similar and wilder adventure in replacement. Set in a magic school where they learn about how Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty influences them today. Why do they need to influence them? Because the f...