The Immortal Mage Chronicles

By Maria Grant

Callista is an ordinary mage, trapped in an extraordinary body. Dealing with self-hatred, an abusive mother, and a dying grandmother; Callista battles being a mage, a teenager, and supernatural forces trying to harm her, her boyfriend, and her friends.

Not everything is at it seems. Mages are being murdered, Druids are lurking about, and everyone is on edge.
But if you think this is everything, then you’re mistaken. This is only the beginning to the lies, secrets, and deathly truths waiting for Callista to discover them. Step into an original world outside of the norm, and explore Callista experience the world in a brand-new way. With so many secrets floating around, the only thing Callista can trust is the fact that she has been lied to her entire life because Callista is anything but ordinary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667154060

Book preview

Contents

Chapter 1: She’s a Maroon, Not Pink

Chapter 2: Try to Be Nice

Chapter 3: I Get Visions

Chapter 4: So, I Have a Secret

Chapter 5: I’m Sorry

Chapter 6: Midnight

Chapter 7: Blue Eyes

Chapter 8: Do I Need a Lawyer?

Chapter 9: My Lips Tingle

Chapter 10: I feel okay

Chapter 11:  You Don’t Think I’m Evil?

Chapter 12: Now, I’m Worried

Chapter 13: Kitty Has Claws

Chapter 14: I’ll stay here. Thanks.

Chapter 15: It’s Got Good Bones

Chapter 16: I Think I Found Something

Chapter 17: Let’s Do a Spell

Chapter 18: Knight in Shining Armor

Chapter 19: She’s an Immortal

Chapter 20: Just Getting Started

Chapter 1: She’s a Maroon, Not Pink

There’s a faint voice echoing in the room. It’s a voice she’s heard a few times before. It’s dark, with a low tone, and sinister. It makes goose bumps coat her arms while also making the hairs stand. The voice doesn’t say anything except it’s almost time for you to join me. Callista has ignored the voice since she was nine years old, and she’s ignoring it today. It used to give her nightmares, but now she’s at peace.

Callista lays on her bed and places a purple pillow over her face. She screams before allowing the object to rest over her hazel eyes. Her thick, short, brown hair flairs on her dark grey silk sheets as she hugs the pillow to her chest. She removes it and sits up—looking around her room with tight lips.

Her new room is larger than her old. She shouldn’t be complaining, but it feels empty and cold here. The floors are hard wood, and there’s a large brown desk in the corner of the room, with a black desk chair and a full six drawer dresser. The closet is fairly large as well, and the bed is a Queen. There’s a television mounted on the wall, and there’s a bean bag chair sitting by the edge of the bed.

The same number of items used to fill up her old bedroom—making the space seem like home. Now, however, the items sit idle; looking out of place and underwhelmed. Callista sighs and gets off her bed as she goes to her closet. Her items only fill up half the space. She’s never been one for materialistic things; mainly because she grew up with her grandmother who had a fixed income. Now, Callista has everything she could ever want at the touch of her finger and yet? She couldn’t be more displeased.

She hates it here. She hates her new circumstance completely. She’s not happy, nor is she content. She wants to escape. She would love nothing more than to run away. To flee this place that’s holding her hostage and preventing her from being where she belongs—back home in Wyoming with her grandmother, Annabelle Tillman. No, instead, Callista Tillman is here in New York at a secret academy hidden from the rest of the world and only for mages.

Callista has known she was a mage her whole life; always being told to keep her powers dormant—hidden. Not that Callista is powerful anyways, at least to the magical world. When Callista was four, her mother told her that she had no power and was a failure. Told Callista that it was an embarrassment to have Callista as a daughter—then she shipped Callista off to live with her grandmother, Annabelle.

A week ago, Callista’s entire world was rocked when her grandmother grew too ill to take care of her. Not that Callista needs anyone to take care of her anymore; she’s sixteen years old. However, Annabelle insisted she didn’t want to have Callista watch her die so Callista’s mother, Brenda, reluctantly took her in.

Funny enough, Brenda is the Dean of Lashay School for Mages, which is an isolated and hidden institution in New York, near Hunts Point peninsula. Brenda is the Dean simply because Annabelle’s grandmother, named Lashay, established the school in 1906. There are spells on the school to prevent it from being discovered, and it really does help mages grow into their powers and utilize their gifts for good. The students also get real educations and life experiences too.

Callista thinks her mother is doing a good job at running the place. The issue is, the fact that Callista doesn’t belong here. The students at this school are the best of the best and are merely looking to enhance their powers. Each student has to take a ‘level test’ before entering that determines how much power they have. In five minutes, Callista has to take hers. She already knows her mother is going to flip when she sees how little Callista has.

*Ding*

Callista flips over and reaches over to her nightstand where her phone is resting. She sees a text from her grandmother asking her to call really quick. Callista dials the familiar number.

Hey grandma, Callista says softly as soon as she hears the woman pick up.

I know it’s about that time, the woman immediately starts talking. Remember what we discussed. Callista nods and looks to the floor. She knows Annabelle is referring to the conversation they had right before Callista left the house.

Callista was finishing up packing when Annabelle had caught up with her. The old woman had a stern look on her face as she told Callista to keep up the front. To keep their secret to herself. Callista promised then and she will promise now.

I won’t let the secret be discovered. Callista says with conviction. Her grandmother has given her a reason to live; if the woman wants Callista to keep this secret then she will. The truth shall never escape her lips. Probably. Most likely. Maybe.

*Knock*

A thumping on the door brings Callista out of her thoughts as she heads towards the noise. Opening up, her mother, Brenda, is standing before her with an irritated expression upon her tan face. Callista sighs and goes to tell her grandmother she has to go before grabbing her room keys and locking up.

You should have been in the room already. Brenda starts with her condescending tone.

Grandma called, and… Callista gets cut off by her mother grabbing her light brown thin arm and practically dragging her down a corridor and then another and another. Callista jerks her arm away—hating being touched.

I don’t care about that woman. Brenda says with clenched teeth. Don’t make me look bad. Let’s go. Callista is only five four and she can barely keep up with her mother’s pace.

She’s your mother, Callista can’t help but respond back. She’s usually quiet; hates talking even. However, say anything bad about Annabelle, and Callista will bare her fangs.

Don’t. Brenda doesn’t even look to Callista, which is more than frustrating. Deciding best to just ignore her mother altogether, Callista starts playing with one of her many earrings. She has thirteen in total. Eight on her right ear and five on her left. We’re here. They stop at a white door.

Entering, there’s a man who appears to be in his mid-thirties, sitting down on a brown stool. He stands and smiles as he gestures for Callista to sit in the black chair in front of him. The man has milk white skin with brown eyes and short brown hair. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a white polo.

Hi, Callista. The man greets. My name is Arthur Princeton and I’ll be conducting the test for you, today.

Hello, she tries to be nice as her mother hovers over her.

Remember Arthur, Brenda’s voice rings out in the small room. Whatever results she presents, you keep confidential.

Wow, Callista mutters under her breath. Your confidence is overwhelming. She deadpans.

I know Brenda, now settle down and let me do my job. Arthur has a small smile on his face like he knows Brenda is concerned about Callista being a failure. Fuck her, and fuck him too. Please sit. He gestures again to the chair and Callista follows suit. He reaches in his jeans and pulls out a small black stone, whispers over it, and Callista closes her eyes as she places her hands on it.

What the stone does is determine power; it changes colors depending on how strong you are, or could become. Pink is no power. Maroon is basic power; meaning you can do a spell but nothing to write home about. Yellow means there is potential to be great. Orange means you’re ready to join a coven level of power. Red means you could practically lead the coven. Brown means very powerful; you could lead two covens. Then there is Grey.

It's rare to reach grey. There are those with a color grey who can even make it so that it’s hard for people to even breathe in their presence. They are known as Immortals. Immortals are mage’s that are so powerful, they gain energy from the earth; making them age so slow it’s like they never die. Grey mages are a force to be reckoned with.

Even more rare, than a grey, is to be able to reach double grey. There’s only been one documented mage to reach that level and he shattered the testing stone. Rumor has it, he used twenty-five limiters to keep his power in check and from disrupting the things around him. Limiters are objects spelled and worn by a mage to keep their energy limited. Those that are really powerful can seep energy from their pores and cause disruptions like electricity, even changing weather.

Callista’s stone, is maroon. She flinches as her mother punches the wall—leaving a nice sized hole. Arthur gives Callista a faint smile before placing the stone back in his pocket, standing.

There you have it. Arthur says to Brenda.

There’s no way she belongs in this school. Brenda sneers to Arthur. We accept no one, her age, below an orange—yellow maybe. She’s a pink. She has to leave.

She’s a maroon, not a pink. Arthur deadpans. She has power, just basic. She can keep up in class, and she’s your daughter.

Don’t remind me. Brenda snorts.

She won’t be joining any covens, and probably won’t be remembered but there is power there. Arthur explains. Don’t feel so utterly defeated.

I’m standing right here. Callista points to her chest. I won’t be remembered, huh? Nice. Good to know I’m the invisible man, just walking about not existing. I don’t have to be here you know. I could always go live with my… she stops talking abruptly and shakes her head. One of her secrets was about to get disclosed.

Your grandmother is dying; you can’t stay with her. Brenda glares. Callista glares right back. She wasn’t talking about her grandmother but she can’t admit that out loud.

Let’s all settle down. Arthur interrupts.

You just told me I won’t be remembered, why are you even speaking to me right now? Callista flairs up. She can feel the anger burning in the pit of her stomach like a single ember that turns into a raging fire. She tries to calm down, but can’t. So, she leaves. She walks right out of the room and keeps turning corridors until she’s outside.

Growing up, Callista only visited this school a handful of times. And that’s not because her mother wanted her on campus, but because her grandmother had business to attend. Even still, with her lack of knowledge, Callista does remember the basics.

There are four main buildings. Easton hosts the main classes and the girl’s dorms for girls who are under the age eighteen. Weston is for the library, Southon is for lab classes and girls’ dorms who are eighteen and above, and then there is the Northon building which is for all the boys.  Callista remembers these buildings, specifically, because of how awful the names were. They got embedded into her memory.

Walking out of the Easton building, Callista reaches the back courtyard. This is the courtyard that is behind all the four main buildings. That means this courtyard is the most popular, which explains why it is already filled with people awaiting the start of the new semester from summer break.

This school takes students aged 13-21; there are no grades—just ages. It’s maddening. She’s sixteen and will have to join the other sixteen-year old’s who have been here since thirteen and are probably oranges by now. Great.

Trying to get out of her funk, she finds a large Oak like tree and sits under it. There are bugs crawling all over the ground and she thinks she sees a spider, so she gets up and sits an at empty table instead. People are bustling about, talking and laughing like life is simply a breeze. She brings out her phone and hovers over her grandmother’s number until a dark shadow appears.

Looking up, she notices it belongs to a teenaged boy. He seems to be averaged height, around five foot nine. He’s average size, with long coal black hair pinned up in a pony tail, kind of pale skin, and crystal blue eyes. He smiles.

Hi, my name is Leonard; are you new? He introduces. Callista looks around to see if he’s been sent over here by a group of friends to laugh at Callista. Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. She sees no one looking, but still—she’s skeptic.

Yes. She decides to respond. I’m with the sixteen-year-old group.

Cool, me too. His smile widens. I like your piercings. My cousin dates a guy who is part of some Native American tribe and they have piercings like that. Are you with a tribe? He takes a seat beside her like he was invited to join Callista’s pity party.

No, she says slowly—still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Are kids in New York really this nice? Or maybe it’s just Wyoming that treated her like an outcast. Because of all her rings and piercings, she often got that she looked like an emo; as if there’s anything wrong with that. Sorry, why are you here?

He laughs. It’s a hearty laugh that sounds like it’s coming from the pit of his stomach. He leans his head back and holds his sides. Looking at Callista, his laughter dies down and his smile increases tenfold.

You’re really rude. He chuckles. I like that.

Are you a sadist? Callista can’t help herself. She normally shy’s away from new people and doesn’t bother talking but it’s easy with Leonard.

You and Abigail must be related. Leonard’s chuckle dies down. Abigail is a friend of mine. We all met when we were thirteen and first came to this place. We being Abigail, Zinx, Chase, Li’aire, Trevor, and Safrina. Inseparable, us.

Must be nice, Callista looks to her phone again. To have so many friends.

Most of the time, Leonard looks off into the distance briefly. Then again it’s like a bunch of added siblings you can’t get rid of and really want to kill half the time but you know you can’t.

Also, must be nice, she feels herself laughing. I’m an only child, grew up in Wyoming and had no friends.

If I grew up in Wyoming, I wouldn’t have any friends either. Leonard shakes his head. They all probably go around hunting animals and doing drugs.

Ah, but don’t forget underage drinking and sex. Callista points out.

How could I forget the underage drinking and sex. Leonard smacks his forehead.

Then there’s me, who dresses in all black, has a bunch of piercings, and doesn’t like to talk. Callista shrugs.

About that, Leonard points to her ears. How does one get so many piercings and you’re only sixteen?

Ah, Callista touches one of her earrings. My grandmother did them for me.

Nice. Leonard reaches out like he’s going to touch one and Callista pulls away out of instinct. Sorry, shouldn’t have been so invasive.

I just don’t like human contact, she mumbles—suddenly feeling nervous. Strange enough it makes me feel uncomfortable.

Part of the charm, I’m sure. He laughs it off like it’s nothing. Callista gets a little bubble of jealousy as she looks at him.

He seems happy—genuinely so. Like nothing phases him for too long. It must be nice. Callista wonders what it feels like to be happy. The only time she feels anything close to happiness is when she’s with her grandmother—the same woman who’s dying and no number of spells, or medicine, can fix it.

You know me, Callista snorts. All charm over here. She gestures to her body.

Another part of your charm must be not introducing yourself. He says slowly and she fights the urge to blush.

Callista. She announces. She’s had better training than this.

Never heard of a name like that before. He seems to be thinking. But I like it. He looks like he wants to say something else but a group of people walk up to the table interrupting. She’s used to this; not existing. They’re all laughing and start climbing in the empty seats, completely ignorant to Callista’s existence.

Leo, my man. A guy with short black hair slaps Leonard on the back twice; he’s sitting right beside Leonard. Did you see Kali Morgan today? She’s wearing the most sinister red skirt.

By sinister he means you can see her underwear. A girl with blond hair rolls her eyes as she states.

What underwear? A red hair girl seems to say in disgust. She was going commando. I saw ass cheeks.

That’s the point. The black hair guy smirks. See, sinister.

You guys are too much for me right now. Leonard laughs; showing teeth.

Of course, how could we forget our prince of ‘All Things Right and True’ would never stare at a woman’s naked bum without her permission. A guy with brown hair teases.

I like the title Prince; call me that more often. Leonard looks to Callista and winks. Her mouth opens slightly as if she has no idea what to say or do—she doesn’t. She’s bewildered. It seems like the gesture, however, has shown light to her presence because now six new pairs of eyes are staring at her expectantly. If she could politely slink away, she would.

Oh, a new face. The guy with black hair says with a loud tone. Callista shy’s away and starts looking down at the table. She plays with her rings on her fingers.

She’s a bit shy. Leonard bumps her with his shoulder. Her name is Callista and she’s our age. She’s new, from Wyoming, and will be taking classes with us. Callista; that’s Zinx, Abigail, Chase, Trevor, Li’aire, and Safrina. Callista appreciates him taking charge.

I do like the shy one’s. A guy with blond hair, Trevor, gives a half smirk that looks more devious than anything ese.

Hands to yourself. Leonard seems to warn.

Oh, Leo the Lion is ready to roar. She must be special. The guy with black hair, Chase, jokes. Some laugh but the girl with red hair, Abigail, seems to scowl.

What’s your color then? Abigail flips her red hair over her pale, bare, shoulder. Callista sniffs and doesn’t respond.

Is that appropriate to ask? Leonard looks to the red head.

If she’s in this school, and in our grade, then I think it is appropriate to ask. The red head girl defends her question. If she’s going to be sitting with us then she should be at least an Orange; anything else is demeaning.

He sat with me. Callista has the burst of anger come out of her again. She bites her tongue and settles back down. This darkness and anger have always been inside of her; just threatening to break free.

It takes every ounce of her control to keep it at bay—but sometimes it likes to rear its ugly head. Oddly though, normally she’s shy and awkward but sometimes; well, sometimes it’s like she could fight the world and win. She doesn’t understand it at all.

I’m sorry? The red head girl blinks. It sounds like you’re getting an attitude.

Abigail, Leonard says in a low tone. Settle it down.

I’m actually kind of curious as well. The blond-haired guy, Trevor, speaks, but his questioning seems out of genuine curiosity more than malicious intent.

Come on Trevor, not you too. Leonard whines as the blond haired, green eyed, boy smiles.

Let her answer. Abigail looks to Callista expectantly and Callista sighs as she stands.

If you must know, I’m a maroon. Callista waits for the laughter, and sure enough it comes. From everyone except Leonard and a girl, Safrina, with short blond hair and dark blue eyes.

Oh my god, Abigail’s pale face is turning as red as her hair. How did you even get let into this school? I was a maroon when I was six.

Seriously? Trevor snorts. Were you born a pink and turned into a maroon? That’s seriously low-level magic. Whose cock did you suck to get in to this school? Callista wills the tears back in her eyes. She’s been beat down by her mother her entire life, she doesn’t need it from strangers.

My grandmother’s grandmother founded this school, Callista starts on a tangent. Now that my grandmother is dying from stage 4 cancer, I’m forced to live here because she doesn’t want me to watch her die. That’s why I’m here, and fuck every single one of you. She storms off, and as she does, she hears Leonard call her name and Abigail’s laughter ringing loud in her ears.

Making it a few steps inside, she feels someone grab her arm and sees that it’s Leonard. She’s ready to fight him off—fuss him out. Something. Anything. There’s a burning in her eyes, and a lump in her throat. She just wants to be alone.

Abigail was out of line, Leonard says in calming tone. Listen, many here will care that you’re only a maroon. They’ll act just like Abigail. My mom though, she’s human. I grew up different. I don’t care what level of power anyone has; power doesn’t make a person any better.

Where was Leonard when Callista was growing up? Where was he to defend her when her own mother would hit her and call her useless—magicless. Worthless. Where was Leonard? Annabelle was Callista’s only saving grace, but her grandmother wasn’t always around. To cope, Callista stopped talking; stopped caring. She withdrew from the world and as a result she’s emotionally crippled.

I just want to go to my room, Callista finally responds with a tight voice.

Hey, no. Don’t go. Callista looks to see Zinx standing behind Leonard. I’m sorry for laughing back then. That was mean of me, and if my father ever found out I laughed like that he would kick my ass up and down these halls. Zinx walks closer. I’m Zinx Meier.

Thanks, and hi. Callista mumbles. I’m going to my room now. Callista appreciates the apology, and him coming to meet up with her but she’s done with meeting new people for today.

She walks away and this time no one follows. As she enters her room, and allows the solitude to consume her, she finally feels at peace. She has her grandmother, and she has her secrets, she doesn’t need anything else.

Chapter 2: Try to Be Nice

Abigail sits on the sofa and drinks her smoothie, completely ignoring Leo glaring daggers right into the side of her face. She crosses her legs and watches the television in front of her. Beside her is Safrina, who has blond hair and blue eyes. Beside Safrina is Zinx, who has short brown hair and hazel eyes. In another chair is Li’aire, who has brown hair and brown eyes. Chase is on the floor.

Abby, Leo uses his ‘dad’ voice and Abigail blinks.

What? She sasses because she can. Leo’s left eye twitches.

You should apologize, is what he is referring to. Trevor really means it too. He felt bad when he heard Callista speak and knows she must be going through a lot right now. Having a bunch of strangers laugh in her face isn’t the best way to start at a new school.

Just because you grew a conscious doesn’t mean I will. Abigail deadpans. Truthfully, she didn’t like the way Leonard was clinging so close to Callista. He’s too nice for his own good, if someone doesn’t chase the girls away, he’ll fall into a trap time and time again.

Don’t be such a bitch all the time. Zinx speaks up as he smokes his e-cigarette. The girl seemed nice enough. Besides, her family founded this school. You should thank her.

Zinx has a good point. Chase nods.

There’s something about her. Abigail squints as she recalls Callista’s burst of anger. She’s definitely wound