Blackwater Canyon, Chapter 6
A Difficult Child
Start Here : Table of Contents
Previously: Myriam announces to her childhood friend, Asher, she will be attending Darrington Magus Academy with him.
Myriam
Myriam and William walked arm-in-rigid-arm along the path to the maze garden in complete silence, as the very strangers they were.
She chewed on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to distract herself from looking back at Asher’s potentially pitiful expression beneath the oak. Asher was a childhood friend, for Saints sake, not some star crossed lover. They would attend Darrington as friends—no—rivals, end of story.
Myriam rounded the hedge corner to the garden’s entrance and whipped out her fan, pulling away from William.
“Are you alright, Myriam?” William scratched the back of his neck. “If I need to come back another time—”
“No,” she answered too quickly. “I—I am fine. I just…”
William extended the rectangle wrapped gift to her.
“I can not accept that,” Myraim turned and headed deeper into the maze.
“Please, just open it.”
She kept walking, rounding another hedge before answering. “I won’t.”
William trotted behind her. “Then, can you please explain what is going on.”
Myraim paused at a fork, looking both ways. At the end of the passage to her right, tucked within a leafy alcove, was a statue of Saint Raphael, the third eye upon his forehead open, the other two closed, with a halo of light emanating from behind his head, and to her left, the maze progressed.
She turned to face him. “I can’t do this.”
William’s eyes searched the hedges. “The maze?”
“This,” Myriam grunted, pointing between them. “Us. I can’t continue to pretend this is going to work.”
William diverted his eyes from hers, then extended the gift to her once more.
“William, I am not going to—”
“Just open it, Myriam.”
She cautiously took the present from him and carefully unwrapped each seam, as to not rip any paper. Within a red velvet case was a fountain pen with polished mother of pearl and delicate gold fittings.
“Oh.” Myriam looked up to him.
“I know you wish to attend Darrington Magus Academy and—”
Myriam pressed her lips into a frown. “So, you overheard?”
William furrowed his brow. “No, Pearl mentioned it in passing, I just… Four years to graduate, right? If you apply for the spring term that gives us a few months to build a relationship and, besides, I will be completing officer school in the meantime—”
Myriam snapped the case shut. “I appreciate the sentiment, William. I really do, but this is more about compatibility. I am just not interested.” She carefully rewrapped the paper over the case and handed it back to him. “I am sorry, but this is called off.” She walked past him to the exit.
“Did I do something wrong?” William called after her.
“No, I am just a difficult child. I am sure my mother warned you of that before you ever agreed to meet with me.” Myriam quickened her pace as she heard footsteps pick up behind her.
“This is about Asher.”
Myriam stopped just before the hedge bend. “Asher is my oldest friend, nothing more.”
William stopped in the middle of the hedge row, shoulders drooped, but eyes stern. “He is in love with you, Myriam.”
Myriam rolled her eyes at him. “That is not a funny joke.” She looked around the hedge bend to divert her eyes from him as Asher’s lips fluttered upon her vision.
“More than that, you—I know we have only met a few times over the months, but I am not blind.”
She looked William up and down. “Asher is set to marry another woman, I mean nothing to him.”
William pointed the rejected gift at her, mouth poised open to argue, but he snapped his jaw shut with just as much of a snap as she did to the velvet case. He shook his head and brushed past her to the maze’s exit.
“Where are you going?” Myriam folded her arms across her chest.
“I thought we were over. Does it matter where I go?”
“Well…” Myraim stomped after him. “No.”
William slicked back his hair at the maze exit and continued on to the front door of her family abode.
“Wait, are you…?” Myraim peered up at the window to her father’s study. At least no one was watching them… presently, anyhow. She hiked up her dress and skipped after him. “Are you going to my father now?” He was certainly not wasting any time.
William starred up the stone staircase to the front door. The butler held open the door for them, of which only he entered. “Does it really make a difference, Myriam?”
She stopped before the doorway, watching him make his way up the second floor.
Oh, was she going to get it from her mother later…
Myraim lifted her chin and turned back towards the gardens. As she made her hasty way back to the maze, she glanced towards the now vacant bench beneath the oak tree and felt for the folded letter in her dress pocket.
Darrington Magus Academy. She smiled.
/ / /
That evening, over a meal of lemon roasted hens and green beans, as the evening sun cast rainbows through the crystal chandelier onto the velvet wall paper of the dining room, a brass cloched platter was delivered to her father. He patted his lips and positioned his reading glasses to the crux of his nose to read the folded letter.
Myraim finished her last bite quickly and shifted her gaze to Pearl, who raised a curious brow, then looked to their mother at the opposite table head. Their mother’s stern expression contrast with her elegant, poised posture.
“When did you take the exam?” Father asked, lowering his glasses, revealing a spark in his eye.
Mother paused mid-bite.
“Three months ago,” Myriam smiled. “Passed the first attempt.”
Mother set aside her silver wear and hurried around the table, craning her neck over her father’s chair. She snatched the letter from his hands. “This is outrageous. Over dinner? Really, Myriam?”
Her father extended a hand, which Myriam shook gladly. “First time pass, huh? It took me two attempts.”
Mother’s mouth dropped. “Don’t encourage her, Atticus!”
Pearl rose from her chair and hurried to their mother’s side, raising on her toes. Meanwhile, Hellen snuck the half eaten roll from Pearl’s plate.
“Darrington Magus Academy!” Pearl grabbed at the letter, which mother pulled away harshly.
“Pearl. Sit down.” Mother glared, folding the letter in half, ignoring the existing creases.
Pearl minded her mother, while mouthing ‘Oh my Saints! Congrats!’ to Myriam. She propped her elbows on the table. “You will be attending with Asher, won’t you? He said that—”
“Elbows!” Mother smacked the back of Pearl’s head in reprimand as she returned to the head of the table.
Pearl winced and tucked her hands under the table, noticing her missing roll. Her head whipped to Hellen.
“I never said you could have that.” Pearl tore what remained of the roll from Hellen’s mouth.
Hellen swallowed the dry roll harshly. “Darrington Mage Academy?”
“It is a school half way across the country,” their mother said sardonically. A strand of pinned, curly hair came loose and fell upon her cheek. “Much like the one offered locally at the Temple.”
Myriam caught Pearl concealing her face, mouthing ‘Does she have to always act so dense?’
“Darrington is a very prestigious magic school, Hellen,” father replied. “The same school I attended before I contracted with the Temple of Saint Raphael.”
Myriam felt as though she could bounce off the walls as the shifting rainbows, instead she folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I wish to follow father’s footsteps and become a registered healer,” she explained to Hellen.
Pearl poorly concealed a smile behind a glass of white wine. Myriam did not dare look at her mother, she could feel the blaze of disapproval from across the room.
“I want to go there too, some day,” Hellen said, decisively. Pearl smacked her shoulder, Hellen snapped back like a rabid dog.
“I don’t see why you can’t just continue as a student of the Temple of Cleansing, here, in Fort Baker,” Mother said, ignoring the banter across the table.
“Education never hurt anyone,” father argued. “Myriam has been accompanying me on house calls since she was twelve years old. I have no doubt that she will graduate as a registered mage.”
“I will attend Darrington come the fall and—” Myraim paused as she witnessed her mother’s nose twitch.
“Girls, out.” Mother gripped the chair’s neck and narrowed her eyes.
Pearl raised her hand, “I personally think it is a great opportunity.”
“Out!”
Pearl quickly and made her way out the double doors. Hellen, however, snatched the basket of rolls from the center of the table before skipping out of the dining room.
“Myriam Elvia Rina. This is the reason William came to us this afternoon claiming that you, personally, have broken off the engagement?”
Myriam resisted the urge to fidget with her curls. “It is.”
“Is this the example you wish to set for your sisters?” Her mother continued. “One where it is acceptable to tear apart their future in pursuit of a needlessly lofty education?”
“Out of the three of us, if anyone is smart enough to make it as a registered mage, it is me.”
“Tabitha!” Her mother shouted for a maid.
Tabitha rounded the corner of the butler’s pantry and bowed. “Ma’am.’
“Paper and quill. If you would. Quickly.”
Myriam could scarcely breathe in the thick silence.
Tabitha rounded the corner, offering a paper, quill, and inkwell in one hand, and a flat palm with the other. Her mother sat the paper flush against the table and pressed her palm flat to the maids. Tabitha winced and clenched her jaw as her magic was siphoned.
The quill lifted from Tabitha’s palm, dipped itself into the inkwell, and wrote upon the flat page.
“We will bargain a delayed marriage,” mother announced.
Myriam’s excitement faded. “But I don’t want to marry William.”
Mother slicked the fallen piece of hair behind her ear and walked calmly across the room. Tabitha took the opportunity to slink away. The quill wrote on.
“You will. That is the end of this discussion.”
“I am old enough to make my own decisions,” Myraim protested.
“Do not push it, Myriam,” father said sternly. “It would be unwise to turn down a marriage with William. He comes from a respectable family and has the potential to build a credible career, in which—”
“Yes, Asher also said I would be comfortable,” Myriam finished, staring solomnly ahead. She could feel her father’s sympathetic eyes upon her.
“At least he is sensible,” mother said.
There would be no Adacemy without marriage to William. She suspected as much. As Asher said, William seemed… kind. There was also the gifted mother of pearl pen, at the very least, he supported her education.
“If I agree to marry William upon my return from university, will you both agree to let me complete a four year term?”
Her mother and father exchanged glances across the room.
“Four years,” her mother said, retaking her seat at the table head. “Not one semester more and if you fail out, you are to return home.”
“Welcome Asher to join you through the city hall portal,” father insisted. “You will not be traveling across the country by train.”
Myriam rose from her chair, bowing deeply to hide her frustration. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
And I may not return home, either, she added to herself.
Image: Satellite view near Sweetwater, Tennessee
Blackwater Canyon Table of Contents
A special thanks to TheGrimoireVault for edit suggestions that increased the entertainment value of this chapter <3. If you enjoy vampiric tales, check out The Manor.

