The gates of the Imperial Academy of Divine Arts towered above me like the jaws of a waiting beast tall iron spires etched with runes that shimmered faintly under the setting sun.
If this was protection, it looked more like a prison.
I tightened my cloak and stepped inside.
I had barely crossed the threshold when the magic hit me like a low hum beneath the stone pathways, a constant thrum that echoed in my bones. This place was alive with power. I could feel my rune stir beneath my skin in response.
So this is where they hide us, I thought grimly. The ones who are too valuable to burn, but too dangerous to set free.
The Welcome Hall had marble pillars lined the long corridor leading to the orientation chamber, lit with hovering lanterns of cold blue flame. Students in navy robes moved around me some chatting excitedly, others casting wary glances at newcomers like me.
I was 18, older than most of them. And I wasn't here to make friends.
I was here to learn what no one else would teach me:
How to control the magic I never asked for.
The air shifted.
"Lady Seraphina von Aurelian," a voice called.
I turned.
A young woman stood near the entry to the grand hall, her hair white as moonlight, her robes marked with a golden phoenix a student prefect.
"You've been assigned to the Third Division," she said. "Combat and Containment."
Combat? I raised a brow. "Not Spell Theory?"
She smirked. "Your placement was… personally adjusted by a senior instructor."
And before I could ask who, a bell chimed behind her.
"Orientation begins now. Don't be late, Lady Aurelian."
Third Division – Combat & Containment Arena
It looked more like a dueling pit than a classroom stone floors engraved with magical sigils, reinforced walls, floating platforms for high-cast battles. The other students whispered as I walked in.
"Is that her? The one who caught the chandelier at the ball?"
"They say she's a noble she paid her way in."
"I heard she's marked."
I ignored them. Let them talk. Their gossip meant nothing. Their weakness would.
Then the instructor entered.
Cloaked in black from throat to boots, his face hidden behind a silver half-mask. His voice echoed, deep and smooth.
"Welcome to the Academy's Third Division," he said. "Here, you will learn to wield magic... or be consumed by it."
I studied him carefully. He didn't move like a noble. He moved like someone who'd fought and killed.
"I am Master Nocten," he continued. "You will not learn spells from books. You will learn survival."
He pointed to the center circle. "Lady Aurelian. Step forward."
The students went silent.
He knew who I was. And he was testing me.
I walked into the dueling circle.
"Summon your magic," he ordered. "Show us what lives beneath your skin."
I hesitated.
If I showed them Spellweaving true Spellweaving I'd expose myself. If I held back, they'd think I was a fraud.
So I compromised.
I extended my hand, let my rune heat faintly, and traced a basic containment weave in the air a glowing triangle of golden thread that shimmered like spider silk.
Gasps rose from the crowd.
Nocten didn't flinch.
He raised a single finger and shattered the weave with a flick of his wrist.
"You're sloppy," he said. "Again."
I clenched my jaw. Remade the pattern, tighter this time.
He broke it again.
"Better. But predictable." His eyes, hidden behind the mask, bored into mine. "Try again, Lady Aurelian. Or leave."
The rune on my skin burned hot. Rage and fear mingled.
I drew a new symbol one I remembered from the book hidden in my chambers. A forbidden rune.
The symbol twisted in the air, crackling with energy. The stone beneath my feet shifted. The magic responded not like a tool but like a storm.
The students backed away.
Nocten stepped into the circle.
And dispelled it with a single word.
"Enough."
The energy vanished. The air turned cold.
"You have power," he said. "But no control. You'll train here. Alone. At dawn. No excuses."
He turned his back.
Dismissed.
I sat alone in my dorm room bare stone walls, a narrow bed, and one cracked mirror that refused to reflect clearly.
"The mirror that remembers…" I murmured.
Was this it?
I traced my fingers over the glass.
Nothing happened until the flame of my bedside lantern flickered blue. Then, faintly, the reflection shimmered.
And I saw not myself, but a woman with auburn hair and my eyes, standing in the same room, touching the same mirror.
My mother.
She opened her mouth to speak but the vision fractured. The glass cracked, and the image vanished.
I gasped.
The rune pulsed once, like a heartbeat.