The Idan Apprentice - A Short Story
This is one of those short stories I don't know what to do with. I wrote it for a contest but it wasn't picked and it has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy ❤️
“You’re going to be late, Ara!” My mother’s voice travelled up the stairs to my bedroom, where I stood before the mirror, dressed in the Kadara Academy’s sharp sky-blue pinafore and white shirt. My shoes were black, flat, and shiny according to the Academy’s standards. In every sense, I was ready to go—If I could just figure out what to do with my hair. I considered pulling it into two buns, but that would make me look like a child, and a single bun to the back would make me look too serious. I should have just let my mother weave my hair into cornrows like she suggested last night.
Becoming an Idan apprentice and studying at the prestigious Kadara Academy was the biggest event of my life and the moment I had been waiting for. I couldn’t believe I was going to be late to my own matriculation because of this stupid, impossible mass of hair. I loved my hair and wore it proudly, but sometimes, I did not want to deal with it. This morning just had to be one of those times.
I took in a deep breath and, puffing my cheeks, I let it out slowly through my teeth. “Remember who you are,” I said to myself. “You are hope, you are optimism.” I repeated these words over and over, slowly letting the magic do its—magic.
Confidence and excitement gently replaced my distress. That was the thing about hope; once activated, it brought out all the other positive emotions. Quickly I worked my fingers through my hair, manipulating it into two side braids. I was finishing the end of the second and final braid when my mother opened my door.
“Ara!” I was startled by the intense force with which she called my name. I knew she had no respect for privacy, but she still managed to shock me every time.
“You’re going to miss the bus,” she said as she held my shoulders gently, turning me towards her.
“Just a minute, mama,” I said, turning back to the mirror and wrapping the hands of my braids around my head, like a crown. I smiled to myself. It was just perfect.
“You look beautiful. You are going to be the star of your set.” she beamed at me. Then gently pulled me away from the mirror and turned my face to hers. Holding my face in her hands, she placed a kiss on my forehead, filling my nostrils with her familiar scent of cocoa butter and mint.
Her smile was contagious, and it spread to my almond brown face, which resembled hers. “I am not going there to be the star. I just want to give people sustained hope. Besides, we all know the stars will be Joy, happiness, love, and most of all bravery. Even amusement gets more respect than hope.”
“Nonsense,” my mother said with a wave of her hand. “General Akin could not have overturned the battle of Aye all those centuries ago without a glimmer of hope. His bravery would have been useless,” she said, and then put my sling bag across my shoulders. I smiled again and returned her kiss to her cheek.
My mother, Atinuke, who despite being an Ogberi in the Republic of Aje, where people were divided into two classes based on their magical abilities—the Idan, who had magic and the Ogberi, who did not—gave me my magic of hope and positivity.
Even though the Ogberi could not use magic, they could transmit their strongest emotions to their children, who might become an Idan if fate allowed. Of course, it wasn’t the same for all Idan. Most were born to solely Idan parents. They were known as the Purebloods, and their bloodline was said to be untainted for generations. I knew that being a Half-breed could put me at a disadvantage at the Academy, but I refused to let it consume my thoughts.
“Go on, I want to hear every detail when you get back,” she said, nuzzling me out the door.
The cobblestone street was bustling with activity as I stepped out of our apartment located above my mother’s modiste shop. I felt the gentle morning breeze caress my cheeks, and I closed my eyes for a moment. The collective emotions of excitement, anticipation, and nervousness swirled around me, and I let myself feel them all.
Every matriculation day, the sound of chatter and laughter filled the air as the streets bustled with excitement. Though it wasn’t as intense as it would be on graduation day, which was only a couple of days away. Graduation day was the most important event in the Republic of Aje, where citizens met their newly trained protectors. Idans were the pride of the Republic.
The festive atmosphere was impossible to ignore, with colourful flags hanging from every lamppost and building, swaying gently in the breeze. The energy in the air was so positive and vivid, I could almost touch it. A few other students were also running late for the bus. I couldn’t help but wonder if my potential friendship with them in the Academy would be determined by whether they were Purebloods or Half-breeds?
I sighed as I contemplated the unpredictability of my future at the Academy. Once again, I forced the negative thoughts down, just like I had been doing all morning. I reminded myself to stay present and not let thoughts of future problems consume me. We still had about five minutes before the bus arrived, so I took my time. Rather than rushing and sweating, I decided to take a leisurely stroll, relishing the peaceful atmosphere. I savoured the aromas of street food in the air, and the sound of musicians playing lively tunes echoed through the streets.
***
As I entered the Academy for the second time, the all-too-familiar feeling of anxiousness crept through my veins, just like it had on the day of our entrance tests. However, I quickly pushed it back with my dominant emotion as I looked around. The sprawling courtyard dotted with students and mentors engaged in animated conversations. I didn’t have mentors; I couldn’t afford one. Getting into the Academy had been of my sheer effort alone. My gaze shifted to the grand hall, where a stage stood adorned with banners and flowers, ready for the matriculation ceremony. Today, apprentices like me would officially begin their journey to become skilled wielders of emotions. Our emotions were like a conduit of our magic that allowed us to accomplish incredible feats. The Kadara Academy will mold us into the perfect, upstanding citizens worthy of the powers fate had given us.
My heart fluttered as I spotted familiar faces—some from my childhood, and others from my recent interactions during the pre-matriculation gatherings. On the surface, there was a sense of unity, a shared purpose that bound us all together. But underneath all these, there was still that unspoken division between Purebloods and Half-breeds. The feeling I had been trying to suppress all morning was rising to my throat like bile—the feeling that I did not belong here.
Among the familiar faces was Kuku, a second year student whose reputation preceded him even to us new intakes. His emotion, despair, was said to be as intense as his brooding demeanour, a stark contrast to my own. He stood tall and defiant in the group of other second years. It was mandatory for second years to attend the matriculation ceremonies because they would be paired with the first years after the programme to help ease our integration into the Academy. I felt a jolt of nervousness when our eyes met, and I glanced away. I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins as my heartbeat intensified, almost to the point of explosion. With just a single gaze, could he really cause heart palpitations to spike? I looked back at him, and his eyes flickered with amusement as he cut his gaze away from me and back to the girl speaking in the group. I could sense the negative aura emanating from them.
I trembled as a shiver ran up my spine. Kuku, due to the magic of his emotion, was part of the dark ones. He belonged to the group of people who could inflict heart-wrenching pain with a mere thought. Other students usually left them alone, as if it were an unwritten rule. And I had just gone and stupidly made eye contact with him. I hope what he just did was a onetime thing, and he would completely forget that I existed. I shuffled away quickly and found my seat in the grand hall.
As the ceremony began, the Academy’s headmaster, a venerable Idan with a warm smile, took the stage. He spoke of the responsibilities we carried as apprentices and the duty to protect and uplift our society. He emphasised his point by citing the example of Idan’s strength and General Akin’s courage in the battle of Aye against the Idamu demons, who nearly annihilated the Republic, and how they established a barrier to shield it from demonic attacks.
There was a resounding applause after the headmaster’s speech. The atmosphere grew even more charged as the headmaster approached the moment of matriculation. One by one, names were called, and each apprentice stepped forward to receive their emblem—a symbol of their affiliation with the Kadara Academy. With each name, applause and cheers erupted, fueled by the emotions of pride and excitement. And then it was my turn.
“Araidunu Oworu.” My name echoed through the hall, and I felt a mixture of emotions surge within me. I closed my eyes, letting the power of hope and optimism flow through my veins. When the headmaster placed the emblem in my hand, I felt a surge of pride that made my heart swell. I could sense the emotions of those around me, a potent mixture of joy and inspiration.
As I stepped back into the crowd, my eyes met Kuku’s. There was something different in his gaze—something that hinted at the complexities beneath his seemingly impenetrable facade. Our emotions, hope and despair, were like two sides of a coin, each carrying its own weight and significance. I looked away again. I couldn’t tell what was on his mind. But I was not here to read minds of dark people, I was here to become a skilled Idan and contribute my quota to the prosperity of the Republic.
Little did I know that my world as I knew it was about to change forever. As I took my seat, a deafening sound, like shattered glass, echoed through the room.
The sudden shift from excitement to chaos was like a knife slicing through the atmosphere. The cacophony of noise from the apprentices filled the air as they ran in all directions, some clapping their hands over their ears, and others sprinting towards a wall to bash their heads against it.
The headmaster was shouting orders, and teachers were running from pillar to post, trying to save as many students as they could from hurting themselves. I was still trying to make sense of what was going on when the shattering sound came again. Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I felt a deep hollowness inside me, followed by a piercing ringing in my head.
I covered my ears with my hands and fell to my knees, overcome by unbearable pain. I wanted it to stop, needed it to stop. I tried to focus on my breathing, but my mind was too foggy to remember any of the calming techniques I had learned.
The ringing in my ears might go away if I hit my head on something hard. The thought came at me from nowhere, but somehow it made perfect sense.
I got up and ran blindly towards the nearest wall, but just before I hit it, I was yanked back by a sudden force. Despite being lost in my own mind, I fought against the restraining grip, not realizing whose arms were holding me until his voice whispered in my ear.
“Relax, Tiger,” his voice sounded deep and haunting in my ear. His voice filled up the hollowness inside me with warmth and something else, something sinister. I wanted to succumb to it and let it devour me.
“I need you,” he whispered. “Don’t give in to me, fight back!” He commanded.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“You can, don’t let me overcome you. It’s the only way we can fight this. If you can’t fight this, how do we expect to save the Ogberi?”
The Ogberi. My mother’s face filled my vision.
“I have to… to… my… mother…” I struggled to say the words. The mere thought of my mother being left alone was sufficient to reignite my magical abilities and combat Kuku’s machinations and the invasive presence in my mind.
“Good girl,” he said, but he still didn’t let me go, until he was sure that the fog on my mind had cleared, and I could stand on my own without wanting to hurt myself.
The minute he let me go, I immediately turned on him. “How dare you! You misused your power; you channelled a sickeningly amount of despair into my body!” I yelled and hit him in the chest.
He sighed and rolled his eyes with his hands on his waist. “You should thank me for it. I just saved your bloody life.”
“What?!” The force of his declaration knocked me a few steps back.
“Look around you. We have been attacked.”
My heart sank as I took in the scene around me, the gray sky seeming to reflect the heaviness in my chest, with some apprentices lying on the ground, their bodies unmoving. Amidst the chaos, the sound of shuffling feet and hurried breathing filled the air as teachers and more experienced Idan worked to save as many as they could.
“Are they…”
“Dead?” He finished for me. “Yes, very much so.” his expression was unreadable.
“But…but…” I struggled to find words. I took a deep breath to calm myself and started again.
“This should be impossible. There hasn’t been an Idamu attack in centuries. We have the wards— ”
“The wards have been faltering for some time, and now they have finally given way. For a long time, we have been vulnerable to attack, but the higher-ups kept this information confidential. They believed we had more time, but the clock was ticking faster than we realized.”
“How do you know all that?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the carnage left in the wake of the Idamu attack.
“Never mind how I know, Tiger.”
I wanted to tell him not to call me that, but he kept talking. “The important thing now is that the Aye now know how vulnerable we have become over the years.” “You are immune to the attack?” He shook his head slightly in response.
“But you saved me.” I frowned, confused and exhausted.
“We saved each other. I took from you as much as I gave. Dark and light, our powers created gray magic, and it protected our minds. Many of the fallen ones couldn’t find the balance.”
I need you.
His earlier words replayed in my mind as I glanced up at the graying sky.
War was upon us, but we’ve differed too much to find the balance that could save us.
And now the Idamu know our weakness.
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