In the days following that night, Alana could no longer deny what she felt. There was something pulsing inside her — a silent, living energy that responded to her thoughts and emotions. The world around her seemed the same, but to her, everything was different. As if hidden layers of reality had revealed themselves.
She began testing her limits. In secret, she tried to move small objects, feel the currents of air, turn lights on and off with just a thought. It was as if she could finally touch the truth of what had always been there, dormant.
But her secret wouldn't last long.
One morning, while trying to manipulate the water in the sink using only the power of her mind, the faucet suddenly opened by itself, spinning violently. A jet of water shot upward, hitting the ceiling with a crash.
"Alana!" her mother shouted, running into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
Her eyes were wide open. Not with anger — but pure panic.
"I... I didn't touch anything. I just..." Alana tried to explain, but the words stuck.
"You need to stop this. Now."
"Why?" she asked, her voice fragile. "Why can't I understand what's happening to me?"
Her mother stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a broken sigh, she lowered her gaze.
"Because there are rules. And eyes that watch. If they find out you've awakened... they might come after you."
The conversation ended there. Tense, her mother locked the stone inside an iron box and hid it somewhere in the house. For days, Alana obeyed, silenced by fear and confusion. But inside her, something was growing — an unrest impossible to contain.
Then, on a gray morning, a letter arrived.
No sender. Thick paper, folded precisely, with a crest embossed at the top — a symbol Alana didn't recognize, but which sent a shiver down her spine. The handwriting was old, elegant, almost ceremonial.
She read silently, her heart racing:
> "To Miss Alana Stilinsk,
We inform you that your magic has been detected.
You are officially invited to join the Institute of Magic, a school for young witches and wizards.
Your lineage is ancient. Your presence is awaited."
As soon as she finished reading, the seal that closed the letter dissolved into golden dust. Across the house, even locked away, the stone glowed, as if it had heard the call.
Alana smiled for the first time in days.
That night, she lay down with the letter under her pillow. Every time she closed her eyes, images danced in her mind: stone corridors, voices in forgotten tongues, other youths like her, eyes full of the same curiosity and fear.
For the first time, she did not feel alone.
At dawn, she decided.
She waited for her mother to leave for work and went to the closet. Behind the loose boards, she found the iron box. The stone was there — warm, alive. When her fingers touched it, a wave of heat ran through her body. For a moment, the room glowed in golden hues.
And then, a voice whispered — low, almost inside her mind:
"You are ready."
Alana shivered. The stone was more than an inheritance. It was a consciousness. A bridge.
She passed the stone over the letter, and a new line appeared, revealed by invisible magical ink:
> "Present yourself at the clearing's gate at dusk.
Bring only what is necessary.
The portal will open for a short time."
Alana knew exactly where it was. The clearing — the hidden place where her father used to take her to watch the stars when she was little. After he disappeared, her mother forbade any mention of that place. Now it all made sense. The disappearance, the silence, the fear.
As the afternoon faded, Alana packed her backpack: light clothes, a notebook, the stone, the letter. Each item felt sacred. She left without making a sound, her steps light and steady, as if she already knew where she was going.
The clearing looked the same — and at the same time, strange. The sky was painted in shades of purple and amber. The wind whispered her name. In the center of the field, a circle of stones began to glow, outlining an invisible portal.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside the circle.
The ground vibrated softly beneath her feet. An ethereal sound, like very ancient bells, filled the air. Before her, a rift of light opened — a passage made of mist and stars, like a fold in reality.
Alana looked back one last time.
"I'm coming, Dad," she said, her voice firm and serene.
And then she crossed through.