Liara stood unsteadily, her bare feet sinking into a velvet rug. The room around her was unlike anything she'd ever seen—stone walls etched with glowing runes, floating books drifting lazily across high shelves, and a chandelier of suspended orbs that pulsed with soft light.
The woman in the starlit robes stepped closer, her eyes kind but unreadable.
"I am High Enchantress Myrien, Keeper of the Gate and Headmistress of Velmora," she said. "You've crossed the veil—one few can even see, let alone enter."
Liara tried to speak, but her mouth was dry. "This... this is a dream, right?"
Myrien smiled. "All magic feels like a dream at first."
As Liara's senses returned, questions came rushing in. "Why me? I didn't do anything. I'm not magic."
Myrien tilted her head. "And yet, you activated a sigil of summoning, one created by the Founders themselves. Magic recognized you, even if you don't recognize it yet."
She handed Liara a silver key strung on a black ribbon. A crescent moon was etched onto its head.
"This will open your room in the Novice Wing. Your orientation begins at dawn. There is much to learn... and even more to remember."
Before Liara could ask what she meant, a soft knock echoed at the door.
A girl entered, her hair a cloud of soft curls and her robes slightly wrinkled. She grinned.
"You're the new one?" she asked. "I'm Tamsin. Roommate. Survivor of last semester's broomfire incident. Come on—I'll show you around before the ghosts get possessive."
Liara followed, dazed, clutching the key like a lifeline.
The academy was a maze of spiral staircases, talking portraits, and enchanted hallways that changed direction mid-step. Tamsin chatted nonstop, pointing out classrooms, spellfields, and the infamous Forbidden Tower.
"That's where they keep the big secrets," she whispered. "And the really bad detention cases. Like Aeron Vale."
Liara glanced over. "Aeron?"
Tamsin shivered dramatically. "Top student. Descendant of the Vale curse. Powerful, mysterious, probably dangerous... and very, very hot."
As if summoned by name, a dark figure passed them at the base of the staircase. Black coat. Pale eyes like silver lightning. He didn't look at them—but Liara felt a strange jolt in her chest.
Tamsin raised an eyebrow. "Told you."
That night, as Liara lay in bed beneath a canopy of glowing runes, she couldn't sleep.
When she finally drifted off, the dream returned.
She stood beneath the starlit tree again—its branches now tangled with thorns. Fire surrounded her, and across the flames stood three figures, their faces hidden.
But this time, one of them spoke.
"The gate has opened, Arcanum child. You are not safe."
Liara jolted awake, heart racing. Her key glowed faintly on her nightstand.
Somewhere deep in the castle, a bell tolled.
And far above, a figure in a dark cloak watched her window from the shadows of the Forbidden Tower.