“Of the three of you,” Baba Yaga raised a single, gnarled finger and pointed it towards us, tracing small circles in the air. The three of us sat upon the same tables we’d lain on an hour or so ago, and I figured all three of us were too scared to run away. I also did not see a single door or window, which begged the question of how we even got here. Then again, magic was the most likely answer. “Only two have awakened their magical affinity; the other one must’ve been too busy running, screaming, and fainting to figure out how to survive.”

Baba Yaga snapped her fingers and an unseen hand yanked all three of us from the tables and dropped us down on the floor in front of her. She snapped again and glowing chains appeared over our forms, wrapping tightly, before shimmering away into nothing. I couldn’t move; my legs and my arms stayed in place no matter how much I screamed in my head. I couldn’t even move my neck to turn and glance at Olga and the other kid, who had probably already fainted.

The gnarled, malformed old woman peered down at us, looming like an ancient tree that’d grown a face and arms and wore a ragged dress. The weirdest part was that she did not smell bad; in fact, she smelled like flowers and grass and morning dew, which was really strange, considering she looked as though she crawled out of a literal pit of filth and decay and rot. It was a welcome reprieve, sort of.

Beside her was the cauldron, where a child had once screamed for help but was now silent. It bubbled and simmered incessantly, the fact that it actually smelled really appetizing made me want to vomit. There was a kid in there, a kid who screamed and begged for help even as his skin melted off his bones and fell into the boiling broth. He was dead in there, cooked alive by the witch who apparently saved our lives. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Baba Yaga took a single step forward towards Olga, who seemed to stiffen even more, despite the fact that she was already frozen. “Hmm, the Phoenix Fire is one of the rarest forms of Elemental Magic, equally capable of creation and destruction; I sense greatness in you, little girl. In time, the Whites will tremble before you as they have trembled before those who carried the same gift as you. That is, of course, if you survive the Academy, but I sense much potential in you; so, your chance of surviving is higher than average.”

She turned away from Olga and took a step towards the other kid, whose name I still did not know. Baba Yaga towered over him, seemingly growing in size as the shadows in her home converged around her. Her eyes, once blue and green, blazed with green flames. The kid whimpered and Baba Yaga harrumphed, shaking her head with a sigh. “This one’s not going to make it in the Academy of Shadows. It’s much better for him to die here and become my meal than suffer in that place.”

The kid screamed, but he couldn’t open his mouth. The noises that came from his closed lips were… unpleasant, to say the least. And I was willing to bet my next meal that he’d more than likely soiled himself. Baba Yaga howled with laughter; the fire that blazed in her hearth seemed to intensify with her laughs as though it was also enjoying itself, as though it was alive.

“But,” She shrugged. “Whether you live or die is not for me to decide; if I ate you now, the Shadow Academy’s going to give me shit for a month and I can’t handle more annoyances when the Red Army’s practically running around my yard. But, that said, you’re definitely going to die, little boy; you’re weak, too weak. The Academy doesn’t suffer weakness and neither does it tolerate fear; and you have plenty of both.”

The boy didn’t faint. Somehow, their eyes locked. Baba Yaga grinned, revealing several rows of mangled, dagger-like teeth that looked akin to sharpened pieces of barks. “Dig deep, little boy and you might just prove me wrong. Or don’t. The choice is yours.”

When she turned to look at me, however, her already wide grin somehow grew even wider. There was a glimmer of amusement and excitement in her eyes. She giggled and planted the tip of her pointer finger on my forehead. My eyes widened. I couldn’t exactly put into words what happened, but I felt something from her entering me, something I couldn’t see, hear, smell, taste, or even touch, but it was there; I knew it was there because I felt its presence. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until she pulled her finger back and I practically heaved forward, wheezing.

What did just she do?

“Kekekekekeke!” Baba Yaga’s cackling was grating to the ears, like the grinding and breaking of glass and metal, but is was even more so when she was literally inches away from me; grating became physically painful. I felt as though my ears were going to bleed. The house itself shook. “You’re definitely the most interesting of the bunch, boy!”

“Kekekekekekeke!” She wiped a stray tear from her right eye and flicked it away, where it hissed upon contact with the ground. “Would you all like to hear a lovely little story? It’s a story about a Flesh-Crafter, whose name struck fear across all of Agartha; wherever he went, destruction and death followed him. Even his fellow Dark Mages grew to fear his presence.”

“Joseph the Red, Jose la Heraldo de la Muerte, the Blight of Agartha and the Twelve Realms; he raised entire armies of abominations and monsters, and waged war against all who stood against him. He conquered entire realms.” Baba Yaga grinned and leaned back. “He was so powerful and so widely feared, that almost everyone had to unite just to defeat him and, even then, it took the intervention of an actual deity to kill the man. You might know him, of course, because he founded the very school you’re about to attend.”

“San Jose, one of five academies for Dark Mages, was founded by him,” Baba Yaga finished her story, leaning back. “Agartha, the hidden world, will not take kindly to another natural Flesh-Crafter; everyone, from Fairies to Werewolves, will want you dead, because of the threat you may pose in the far flung future, boy – not to mention the Dark Mages who are going to be fighting over you. While you possess the greatest potential out of the three of you, it is also your life that’s going to be in the highest amount of danger.”

“The Flesh Horrors you created on accidental bursts of instinct and magic more than proves your natural aptitude,” Baba Yaga paused for a moment. “For academic purposes, Flesh Horrors are considered Category 3 threats; they’re incredibly powerful, but only if they’re given room to grow. Otherwise, all it takes is a bit of Mage-Fire and they’re toast.”

Her eyes grew cold and steely for a moment as she turned and addressed all three of them. “Dark Mages have many enemies in Agartha. Anyone that ascribes to the teachings of the Light is going to be your enemy, be they Orc or Vampire; similarly, anyone who ascribes to the teachings of the Dark is probably going to try and kill you, anyway, because that’s just how it is with Dark Disciples – everyone’s free game and no one is safe. As you are still children, you may find yourselves faced with a Light Disciple who wishes to convert you to their side – refuse them. It’s a mere farce. Once you’ve been touched by the Darkness, there is no going back. Light Disciples will try to kill you whenever they can; remember that.”

I gulped. I would’ve nodded if I could move my head. Still, this was more information that I now had to memorize, because it was the sort of information that might just save my skin one day, even if most of it meant little to me for now.

She took several steps back, before outright turning away and walking towards her still-boiling cauldron. She leaned towards it, before removing the lid. The fact that the scents that came out of the cooking vessel were outright heavenly only made me sick to my stomach. There was an actual bone sticking out, an outstretched hand. Baba Yaga grinned and laughed as she breathed in the smells. “Dinner is ready! Now, which one of you children is hungry?! There’s plenty for everyone! Kekekekekekeke!”

Baba Yaga held out her left hand and a soup ladle from somewhere flew right into her grasp. She then took a bowl and ladled a large amount of the soup, before holding it towards them, grinning. “Soup?”

A single eyeball floated to the surface of the soup. I glanced down, huffed, and fainted.

I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to remain asleep and dream forever. But, alas, my body decided that it did want to wake up. And that was how I found myself yawning and stretching my arms inside a witch’s hut. The bed I’d lain on was… soft and plushy. I glanced down and found it was of some sort of animal fur. Huh, I never thought I’d ever end up sleeping on a bed like this.

“You didn’t eat anything,” Olga’s voice shook me out of whatever sleep lingered in my mind. I stiffened for a moment, before blinking several times and breathing in. “Baba Yaga served many dishes, but didn’t share the soup with us. There’re fruits and bread, enough for all of us. She kept laughing at you as she gnawed on… the bones of that poor child. You should eat, Uriel.”

I turned to face her. Olga sat alone on a stool that was too high for her, making her feet dangle in the air. She rested her hands on a nearby table, where – as she said – there were plenty of fruits and breads. Baba Yaga was nowhere to be found and it wasn’t as though her hut was large enough to conceal her. She probably went out at some point while he was unconscious, which was a good thing.

“Where’s the other kid?” I asked her as I hopped off the edge of the fur bed and walked towards the table. I sat beside her and reached for a loaf of brown bread. It was still warm, which didn’t make sense since these must’ve been served several hours ago. Its outer layer was crisp and fragrant. I recognized only some of the fruits, but most of it was foreign, though I figured they were all edible, since it didn’t make any sense for Baba Yaga to use poison as a way of killing us when she literally had every other method at her disposal. There was also a giant pitcher of water and three wooden cups.

I did, however, choose the one that was most familiar and grabbed an apple. She didn’t have bananas or mangoes, unfortunately, but I wasn’t about to complain. I took a bite out of the fruit and found it was pleasantly sweet and juicy and crisp. The apples I stole back home were often soft and left a bitter aftertaste.

Olga merely shrugged. “He begged Baba Yaga to be let go; he cried, screamed, soiled himself more, and bowed and made himself annoying to the witch. She agreed and dropped him in the middle of a Red Army Base. I’m assuming he’s probably dead.”

“What a waste,” I thought Baba Yaga wasn’t going to kill any of us, after her comment about not wanting the Academy to annoy her. But, to be fair, if that kid made himself that much of a nuisance to a witch, who ate children, then I couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t have it coming to him. Still, I wanted him to survive, because there were so few of us and, honestly, I would’ve wanted one more friend. Olga was nice, but she was also kind of scary at times, like her face and body did not share the same set of perceptions.

I grabbed another piece of fruit, some yellow-green thing that kind of looked like a gooseberry, but was a bit larger; there were tiny bumps all over its surface. I took it closer to my face and took a sniff; it smelled sour. Olga’s face remained neutral as she spoke. “When Baba Yaga left, she told me we only had twenty more hours, before we’re taken back to the Shadow Academy; she wanted to personally teach us in that time, but I’m still waiting for her to return.”

“She wants to teach us?” I asked, blinking. That was… good. It was good that the witch cared enough about us to teach us anything. Though, obviously she was doing this for her own gain, whatever it may be, Olga and I also had plenty to gain from her, seeing as she was like us, but older and more experienced, which meant she was able to survive the absolutely hellish road that was becoming a Dark Mage. “We’re… very lucky, aren’t we? The others are probably still out there, fighting for their lives while we sit here and eat at our leisure. And now there’s an actual witch, who’s willing to teach us actual magic.”

Olga tilted her head. “We are fortunate, but not as much as you might believe.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“We are headed back to that dark place, are we not? I’d sooner take my chances in that city we found ourselves in than in that hell they call a school.” She said firmly. Her eyes faltered for a moment. “Before we were sent here, before we were gathered in that place to listen to that man’s speech, I was in a dark room. There were other children with me. They were dying from some sickness, coughing and spitting blood. I survived, as you know, but they made me watch as they disposed of the failures.”

“Do you know what they did to those who did not awaken?” Olga’s breath hitched. And I felt the rapid beating of her heart as it hammered in her chest. Her hands gripped the edges of the table. And I saw tiny sparks flying where her fingers made contact. Her eyes were wide as she spoke, “They gathered them first, even the ones who were still alive, moaning and groaning feverishly. They piled them up, like bricks, and then poured oil over them. But they did not set the children aflame as I thought they might do. No, they did something, some unholy spell that, as they said, would prolong their agony so that they may have some use in death. And then they burned them, slowly, making sure that those who still lived would scream and beg for it to stop, but they didn’t stop. Like wheat, they harvested their suffering; it was horrible.”

"Those children... they kept screaming for mercy, begging those people to stop, but they just kept going... they just kept going...."

Tears fell from her eyes and her hands burst into flames. “I don’t want to go back there, but I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.”

I stood up, took a step towards her, and laid a hand on her shoulder, which fortunately wasn’t on fire as her hands and forearms were. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I needed allies. I needed her to stay strong and capable as we tackled that hellish place. I couldn’t allow her to sink deeper and deeper into this… misery. “Don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll protect you, okay?”

“My, my, how touching.”