The morning sun spilled over the sleepy town of Briarwood, turning the mist-covered hills into silhouettes of gold. Its warmth bathed the Quinn household, where the aroma of freshly baked croissants mingled with the faint scent of lavender drifting from the garden outside. But beneath the serenity of the morning, a familiar storm brewed quietly in Harper Quinn's chest—the quiet hum of magic, of memories, of everything she'd faced and everything still to come.
She stood in the foyer, her suitcase waiting by the door. Not her first time packing for Starwhisper Academy, but this time was different. She wasn't the same girl who had arrived there last year, wide-eyed and unsure. That version of Harper had faced monsters—real and emotional—and had come out scarred, yes, but stronger.
"You're quiet," her mother said softly, stepping into the room with a dish towel in hand. Eleanor Quinn's brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, and concern etched gentle lines across her face. "Are you sure you've packed everything?"
Harper nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her suitcase. "Triple-checked. Nova's alchemy kit, included."
Her mother smiled at that but didn't look entirely reassured. Harper could see it in her eyes—the same fear that always lingered when it was time to let her daughter go.
Jonathan Quinn entered next, still wearing his old explorer's jacket. "Feels like you just got back," he said, voice roughened by years of fieldwork and whispered legends. "You've already done more than most wizards twice your age. But I get it—this year feels different."
"It is different," Harper said quietly. "I can feel it."
And she could. The world hadn't returned to normal after last year's storm. If anything, the calm that followed had only made the tension worse. Like the universe was holding its breath, waiting.
Jonathan exchanged a glance with Eleanor. "The relic rumors are getting louder," he said, lowering his voice. "More sightings. More magic out of balance. If you hear anything—"
"I'll let you know," Harper interrupted gently. She didn't need the warning. She hadn't stopped thinking about the relics since the last one nearly destroyed everything she loved.
As she turned to hug her parents goodbye, the scent of home—lavender, parchment, warmth—wrapped around her one last time. It was hard, walking away again. Harder than before. But her path was already written in stardust and shadows.
She stepped into the portal.
Avaloria met her like a breath held too long. The sky shimmered with its usual twilight, floating islands drifting like forgotten dreams. But something in the air felt heavier. Thicker. As if the very magic of the realm had been stirred awake and didn't like what it had found.
Harper arrived at the gates of Starwhisper Academy, her boots crunching softly on the crystalline path. The towers stretched toward the sky, glowing faintly in the half-light, unchanged in appearance but eerily still. Students bustled nearby, but their laughter felt restrained, distant—like echoes of a summer already gone.
She took a slow breath and squared her shoulders. The Academy was still here. So were her friends. So was her purpose.
But something was coming. And this time, she could feel it watching.
Welcome back, the wind whispered through the trees, and Harper, heart racing and hands steady, stepped through the gates.