Arrival of the Darkness: The Ravenwood Series, #1

By Jamie Jennings

The start of a brand-new book series from new author Jamie Jennings, comes Arrival of the Darkness the first book in The Ravenwood trilogy.

 

With danger coming around the corner to Ravenwood Academy the whole supernatural community at Ravenwood must come together and defeat it.

 

Death and despair might be closer than everyone would like to believe.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prentobook Press
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201734411

Book preview

Prologue

Darkness. All around him was a deep void of darkness. He knew it was late and he should have been home by now with the smell of his wife’s cooking filling every nook and corner of the house, but instead he was here, in a dirty and narrow alley. As luck would have it, his personal broomstick had run out of the pixie dust halfway home, and the next broomstick rent house was almost a mile away. He drew his cloak closer as the wind blew harder and felt a shiver run down his spine. He heard a sound behind him and looked back, frightened but saw nobody in the inky blackness. He increased his pace, almost jogging while his heart thudded against his ribcage.

He always considered himself to be a man who rarely was frightened, but with the increase in the crime rates in the human world, one could never be sure. He murmured a protection spell, moving his finger in a clockwise manner. He used his other hand to find something of use in the hidden pocket inside the cloak that his wife had sewn for him. He found the emergency lighter that his wife always kept inside for his safety.

The woman is a fortune-teller, he thought to himself.

Once he found it, he ignited the lighter, and it rose from his hands, bright light spilling on the floor, keeping the darkness at bay. The man felt much better now, but he did not slow his pace and continued to walk faster.

He heard a noise again, and this time it was as clear as a bell. He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly, the levitating lighter rotating with him, and he came face to face with the eyes of the man that had been haunting him for years. For a moment there was a silence, the kind you get when an expensive vase falls on the floor.

You died, he croaked, disbelief apparent in his voice. I saw you die.

The man gave a sinister smile.

Yes, Samael. I died.

How... how is this possible?

Samael, that is a conversation for a rainy day. You killed me, and today so will you, he pronounced before throwing a fireball at him.

Samael ducked in time and crossing his hand he shouted, Fulgur!

A bolt of lightning hit the man, and he jumped back. Before he could recover, Samael hit him with another lightning spell, but this time he was prepared and retaliated with his own spell.

Ventus!

Samael had felt the wind before it hit him, throwing him against a garbage can. The wind blew out the light from the levitating lighter, and it fell on the ground. Samael picked a handful of mud from the ground, and before the man could attack him again, he shouted, Luto Murum! and threw the dirt, at the man's feet. The ground shook as a big wall erupted from the ground, blocking Samael from the man.

You cannot escape me Samael, he screamed from the other side.  Not today.

He heard a thud on the other side as he hit against the wall.

"I don’t know how you have resurrected Azrael. But you must go back. You cannot stay in this dimension. Revertere ad infernum!" Samael cursed, waving his hand in a circular motion as a white blinding light threw itself in all the directions.

The pounding stopped, and everything grew quiet.

The curse has worked, he thought.

Azrael has gone back to hell. But who had attempted to bring him back to this world? Was it his wife, the woman that he had loved a long time ago? But she and the baby had died in childbirth. Still, I must warn the others.

Samael hurried home, the incident replaying in his mind again and again. Finally, he reached his house, a grand two-story building with many beautiful warding charms hanging from the gate. He was just about to open it when he heard a soft voice. He looked towards his left to find what appeared to be a child, covered in blankets, sitting near the fence, and singing an old familiar lullaby.

Hello. He walked towards the moving blankets, and the singing stopped.

Who are you? he asked.

The blanket moved, and the face of a child peeked from it.

Child. Are you all, right? What are you doing here so late at night? He asked bending down to look at the girl.

She did not respond and only stood up, looking scared.

Don’t worry. I will not harm you. What is your name?

She continued to look up at him with wide and innocent violet eyes.

Child, where are your parents? Are you lost? he asked.

The girl took off her hood and walked towards him.

You forgot me too soon, Samael. Should I remind you who I am? she asked, transforming into a mature woman, before his eyes.

Samael tried to move his hands, but the woman was quicker. She placed her hand on his chest and whispered, Enervo!

The spell paralyzed him, immobilizing him. She moved towards him cupping his face.

You have grown too lax, my dear. You are not as careful as you used to be, she spoke in his head.

Get out of my head, he screamed at her.

She flinched at his command but did not let go.

We could have had such a future. But see what you have done. You destroyed us, and you killed my poor husband, your best friend. Now I do not have many options left for you. It is your turn to suffer and die.

She released him, humming the same song. Samael felt his head spin and his heart clench. The pain was so intense that he burst a vein or two, but he could not scream for she had stunned him. He knew what she was doing, she had ordered his brain to cut his blood supply, and he was dying of a heart attack. He could feel everything, the wind across his cheek, the smell of the wet ground below him and the excruciating pain in his chest. An involuntary tear fell from his eye as he stared at the woman he had once loved. She looked back at him and faltered for a second. She again cupped his face, closing her eyes.

I loved you, she said.

I loved you too, he answered back.

She moved closer to him, and their eyes locked for a moment before she rose on her toes to kiss him goodbye. She saw the life drain out of his eyes, and the unshed tears poured down her face. The woman released him from the magic as he crumpled to the ground.

Mum, we need to go, said an impatient voice behind her.

I know darling. I know. Let me have a last look at him.

The boy moved towards his mother. He picked her hand and kissed the knuckles. They stood there for a minute staring at the body before them. The night was silent, nothing had changed, but it felt as the inky darkness had enveloped the entire world. After a while, the woman turned to her son and looked at him with a determined expression on her face.

Let the war begin, she declared.

Chapter 1

The hustle bustle of the Centurion Island Portal Station could be compared to the ruckus of a fish market, as thousands of supernatural creatures rushed to find their respective carriers every day. The goblins, dwarves, gnomes, and leprechauns pushed people aside as they tried to navigate their way between the tall legs of other creatures. The vampires glided in their own group looking at everyone suspiciously, while the elves hopped along the platform, busy in their mischief. The fairies and the pixies were buzzing like bees, flying above everyone’s head, and talking at once creating quite a racket. Why they used the portal station when they had wings of their own, no one knew.

The Centurion Island Portal for the Supernatural (CIPS) had started out as a combined project between the fairies and the troll community almost a century ago (the two communities could work efficiently with each other unlike the stories that existed about them. in the human world). The network construction was completed within a year, aided by other magical creatures. Each station was constructed with the same design in mind; it started out as a surface tunnel which then ran deeper until the tube opened into a massive two-sided platform. The network of the portal was too complicated, so if by mistake a creature caught the wrong carrier, it could take them days to reach to their intended destination. Each station opening was connected to portals placed in strategic locations all over the country.

Usually, these portals looked like dumpsters. Passengers would throw their ticket in them and would then be transported to the station printed on their ticket. The system was 80% accurate, except the few times when in rare occasions, creatures would land at the wrong location. Once, a group of vampires were transported to an operation theatre in Willowshade it had taken a lot of work by the Supernatural Committee of the Western Wing (SCWW) to straighten out the mess that had been caused, but that was a long time ago.

Because the portal had been constructed a long time ago, the interior design consisted of scary looking gargoyles and naked nymphs on the wall that moved from time to time. There were several pillars spaced at two meters along the platform, with several inscriptions and carvings on them. Every year during the annual meeting of the Committees, the representatives of each community talked about the renovation of the underground portal system, but somehow no work was initiated. Either the funds were not available, or a much more important matter always came up.

Despite this fact, new and upgraded versions of broomstick carriers were introduced, as compared to the uncomfortable and unsafe broomstick wagons, wherein only three creatures could sit on a single broomstick that used pixie dust. The broomsticks were dangerous as they did not have any belts or harness and it was not uncommon for a passenger to slip from the broomstick once or twice during the journey. Also, pixie dust was an unreliable fuel because when pixie dust encountered water, it turned into pure mud. The new broomstick carriers consisted of an oval-shaped glass, attached to four broomsticks at the bottom that ran on dragon fire, which was indestructible but controllable. The glass was magic, and weather proofed, which meant that nobody could use magic inside as well on the carrier. Inside it, there were eight seats, divided into two rows that faced each other. On one end of the carrier, there was a lavatory, while on the other end the driver’s control room. This modern technology looked out of place in such an old architectural setting, but nobody cared anymore.

Today the station was abuzz as the young witches and wizards of the supernatural world dashed from one platform to another to locate the carriers going to Ravenwood, Academy of Wizardry in Feyhelm, Zetura. The witches were hugging and giggling with each other as they were meeting their friends after a long three-month winter break, while the wizards stood in the different corners, pretending to look uninterested while scanning the crowd for good looking