Crystal Potential

The room was still cloaked in shadows when Miruna’s eyes fluttered open. A dim sliver of light crept through the heavy curtains, just enough to reveal the quiet rise and fall of her roommates’ breathing. The steady rhythm of sleep surrounded her, but Miruna had always been an early riser. Years of solitude had trained her to cherish the quiet moments before the world stirred awake.

Slipping out from under the covers, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed. The prosthetic was cool against her fingers as she adjusted it, its deep soft white color standing out in the pale morning light. Today, she decided, she would change it.

Without a sound, she retrieved a fresh set of clothes and padded toward the private bathing chamber assigned to her. The floors were cool beneath her feet, but she didn’t mind. The solitude of the morning was a comfort.

Inside the personal shower room, Miruna turned on the water and let it run warm before stepping in, allowing the steam to curl around her like a protective shield. She tilted her head back, letting the warmth chase away the lingering stiffness from sleep. The past week had been overwhelming—a whirlwind of introductions, adjustments, and the ever-present undercurrent of uncertainty. But today marked the real beginning. Today, classes would start, and she would finally see what this school had to offer.

Once she had scrubbed away the last traces of grogginess, she stepped out, drying herself quickly before pulling on her uniform. The knee-length skirt, a deep, rich midnight blue, settled neatly around her legs. She smoothed down the crisp white-silver long-sleeved shirt, the bishop sleeves adding an elegant touch. Over that, she pulled on the matching midnight blue sweater vest, the fabric warm against her skin, and finally, the midnight blue robes draped over her shoulders like a mantle.

Next, she turned her attention to her prosthetic. A flick of her fingers was all it took. The polished surface shimmered before shifting, the blank white canvas fading into a sleek silver. Flecks of blue flickered throughout like captured stardust, giving it a otherworldly glow. Satisfied with the new look, she strapped it back in place, rolling her ankle experimentally.

She reached for her bracelet next. With a simple twist of her wrist, a soft hum filled the air as her staff materialized in her palm. The familiar weight was grounding. She gave it a small spin before twisting her wrist in the opposite direction, watching as the staff faded away, seamlessly retreating back into the bracelet.

Last came her boots—sturdy, calf-length, laced up tightly for support. She tugged them on, ensuring they were secure before finally stepping back and surveying herself in the mirror.

She looked… put together.

The thought sent an odd feeling through her chest. For years, she had been overlooked, treated like an afterthought. But here, at least outwardly, she had control over how she presented herself. Straightening her shoulders, she reached for her brush and pulled her hair into a high ponytail, the dark strands curling as they fell down her back.

With one last glance in the mirror, she exhaled and stepped out into the shared portion of the dorm.

The common space was still quiet, though a faint golden glow from the enchanted wall sconces lit the area in a soft warmth. To her mild surprise, she wasn’t the only one awake. Aurelia sat curled up in one of the armchairs, her legs tucked beneath her as she absentmindedly traced patterns on the cover of a book. The reserved girl looked up at the sound of Miruna’s steps, blinking sleepily before offering a small nod.

“You’re up early,” Aurelia murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

“So are you,” Miruna replied as she settled into the chair across from her.

Aurelia hummed in agreement, setting her book aside. “I always wake up early when I’m somewhere new. It helps me adjust.”

Miruna understood that sentiment well.

A comfortable silence stretched between them for a moment before Aurelia reached for her schedule, unfolding the parchment with precise fingers. “Have you looked at yours yet? Did everything get figured out?”

Miruna nodded and pulled out her own schedule. Side by side, they compared their classes. 

“We’ll meet up for lunch?” Aurelia asked after a pause.

Miruna hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Alright.”

The corners of Aurelia’s lips lifted slightly, just the faintest hint of a smile.

By the time the clock chimed softly, marking 6:45, it was time to wake the others.

Thalia stirred first, rubbing at her eyes before mumbling something incoherent about five more minutes. Seraphina, on the other hand, groaned dramatically, flopping back onto her bed. “Why is the sun even awake at this hour?”

Miruna arched her brow. “It’s not.”

Seraphina peeked out from beneath her blanket before letting out a suffering sigh. “Even worse.”

Eventually, with some coaxing (and Seraphina complaining the entire way), both girls got ready. Once everyone was dressed, hair brushed, and boots secured, they gathered by the door. The morning air outside was brisk, but the sky was beginning to lighten as they stepped out of the dormitory and into the world beyond.

The castle loomed in the distance, its towers reaching toward the sky, bathed in the soft glow of dawn.

Together, they made their way toward the dining hall.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Breakfast was a quiet affair. The dining hall buzzed with conversation, but Miruna mostly focused on her plate — a fluffy omelet stuffed with herbs and cheese, accompanied by crisp potato wedges. The warm, savory flavors grounded her, providing a brief comfort before the day’s uncertainty.

Once breakfast was finished, Miruna parted ways with her roommates and set off toward her first class.

The morning air was crisp as she crossed the open courtyard, the stone paths winding between towering spires and ivy-covered walls. Students moved in scattered groups, some chattering excitedly while others hurried alone, clutching books and scrolls. Miruna’s destination was the Hall of Enchantments, a building set apart from the main castle. Its arched windows gleamed faintly, runes carved into the stone glowing faintly beneath the morning sun.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of parchment and ink. Miruna climbed a flight of narrow stairs until she reached her lecture room — a wide space lined with wooden desks and floating glass orbs that bathed the room in soft light.

She barely had time to take a seat before the bell tolled. The sudden chime rang out like a thunderclap, sharp and unexpected. Miruna flinched, her hand jerking on her desk.

A tall man strode into the room, his short-cropped hair streaked with silver. His robes were dark and plain, but his presence commanded attention.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and measured. “I am Professor Varrow. Welcome to Principles of Spellcraft and Arcane Applications.”

He didn’t waste time with introductions. With a flick of his wrist, a line of glowing text appeared in the air behind him, each letter flickering with silver light.

“Magic is not simply a force — it is a language. It has structure, rules, and patterns. Whether you craft runes, weave spells, or shape raw energy, your success depends on your understanding of these principles.”

More text bloomed in the air, neatly arranged in points and diagrams. Miruna reached for her notebook but quickly realized the floating words were easier to copy directly. Dipping her quill in ink, she scribbled furiously, her eyes flicking between her paper and the glowing text above.

Professor Varrow’s voice droned on, steady and sure, and Miruna barely noticed time slipping away.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

After class, Miruna packed her things and made her way back toward the castle. The morning air had warmed, and sunlight danced across the stone walls as she climbed the steps to the fourth floor.

The lecture hall was larger than the previous one, with high arched windows allowing streams of pale light to filter in, casting a soft glow over the polished stone floors. Rows of tiered seats curved gently around the front, where several podiums stood in a semi-circle. Miruna barely had time to find a seat before the bell tolled, its chime echoing through the space like a ripple of magic.

But this time, the professor did not walk in.

A burst of radiant light spiraled into existence at the front of the room, swirling with an ethereal grace before condensing into the form of a tall woman. Her long hair, so pale it seemed to glow, cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall. The air itself shimmered faintly around her as if responding to her presence. Her staff, nearly as tall as she was, landed softly against the stone with a quiet clink , the polished wood humming with latent power.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice lilting with a rich, musical accent that danced elegantly over her words. Though her tone was warm, it carried a quiet authority that commanded attention. “I am Lady Lysandra, and I will be guiding you through the intricacies of Ethics of Magic and Enchantment Law .”

Her gaze swept across the assembled students, sharp and discerning. Miruna straightened instinctively under her piercing eyes, her quill poised and ready as notes began to shimmer into existence in the air beside her.

“This course,” Lady Lysandra began, her voice steady and deliberate, “will not simply teach you the laws that govern magic—it will reveal the delicate balance between power and duty, between privilege and responsibility.” She paced slowly along the front of the room, the faint glow from her hair reflecting softly in the polished wood of her staff.

“Many of you,” she continued, her tone measured but pointed, “will one day inherit positions of authority—whether by blood, by election, or by merit. Some of you may find yourselves seated within your nation’s Wizarding Congress, on High Councils, or as advisors to ruling bodies.” Her gaze lingered briefly on a few students, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. “Others among you,” she went on, “will serve as proxies—wielding power on behalf of those who hold it. And even for those who do not ascend to such positions…”

She paused, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile.

“…this knowledge is not optional. Power is not confined to titles and crowns. True power lies in understanding the rules that govern those who wield it.”

A ripple of silence settled over the room, thick with the weight of her words. Miruna’s quill moved with quiet precision, capturing each carefully crafted phrase as shimmering letters formed midair, visible to all.

“Over the coming weeks,” Lady Lysandra continued, her voice softer now but no less commanding, “you will explore the origins of magical law, the evolution of governing bodies, and the intricacies of magical ethics. You will learn not only what the laws are, but why they exist—and what happens when they are broken.” Her gaze sharpened slightly. “Ignorance,” she added softly, “has never been a shield against consequence.”

Miruna’s quill stilled for a moment, the weight of Lady Lysandra’s words settling in her mind. She was no stranger to consequences. Her life had been shaped by them—by the choices of others and by the misunderstandings that had cast her into the shadows. But here, in this hall, she would not be defined by what others saw.

Lady Lysandra resumed her measured pace, her staff tapping gently against the floor. “In time,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing the future that lay before them, “you will each confront the question of where you fit within this structure. Some of you will claim your rightful places. Others may be thrust into positions you never sought. But whether by birth or by choice, you will all play a part in shaping the future of magical society.”

Her gaze lingered on Miruna for a fraction longer than necessary before sweeping across the room again.

“Today,” she concluded, her voice softer but no less firm, “we begin with understanding. For only those who truly understand the weight of power can wield it without being consumed by it.”

The air in the room seemed to hum softly as her words settled into the silence that followed.

For a moment, Miruna’s thoughts wandered— what place would I hold? —but she quickly refocused, her quill tracing her thoughts onto the floating page. That moment of discovery would come in due time. For now, there was much to learn, and Miruna intended to master it all.

Lady Lysandra’s voice echoed softly as the lecture continued, her words weaving together history, duty, and the delicate threads that bound magical society. And as Miruna’s quill moved, capturing every nuance of the lesson, a quiet determination settled within her. The answers would come.

But first, she had to understand the game.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The chime of the bell echoed softly through the stone corridors as Miruna stepped out of Lady Lysandra’s lecture hall. The weight of the morning’s lesson still lingered in her thoughts as she made her way to a quiet corner near the main hall, her mind busy organizing the complex principles of magical governance they had just covered.

Settling onto a cushioned bench tucked away from the bustling crowd, she opened her notebook and let her quill float effortlessly above the page. Her handwriting was neat and deliberate as she reviewed her notes, adjusting phrases and tidying up points Lady Lysandra had emphasized. Governance, magical law, and the unspoken weight of power—it was a lot to process.

As she brushed her fingers over the smooth parchment, her mind drifted for a moment. Where do I fit into all of this? Her family had never prepared her for this world. Everything she was learning now was new, unfamiliar… and she was left to navigate it on her own.

“Lost in thought already?”

Miruna blinked, her gaze lifting as Alaric approached. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his uniform was tidy—though a slight wrinkle on the hem of his robes suggested he hadn’t been standing still for long. He gave her a small, hesitant smile, his green eyes curious but soft.

“Just trying to organize my notes,” Miruna murmured, closing her book with a quiet snap .

Alaric shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking down briefly before meeting her gaze again. “What’s your next class?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.

Miruna glanced down at her schedule. “Elemental Manipulation and Energy Convergence.”

Alaric’s expression brightened slightly, though there was still a hint of something guarded behind his eyes. “I’ve got that too,” he said, his tone a little more sure now. “Want to walk there together?”

Miruna hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. “Okay.”

They fell into step beside each other, the noise of the other students fading as they moved toward the outer edge of the main cavern where the Elemental Pavilion stood.

“So… you’re excited for the class?” Miruna asked, trying to fill the quiet that had settled between them.

“Yeah,” Alaric said, but the enthusiasm in his voice felt… off. “My family’s full of fire elementals. It’s sort of expected, I guess.” He gave a small shrug, his hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Expected?”

Alaric’s gaze stayed fixed on the path ahead. “They’re all fire elementals—my parents, my grandparents… everyone. I’ve been waiting for my affinity to show for years.” His voice was steady, but there was a tightness in it that Miruna couldn’t ignore.

“Does it… always follow family lines?”

“Most of the time,” Alaric murmured, his tone quieter now. “But… sometimes…”

“Sometimes it doesn’t,” Miruna finished softly.

Alaric nodded, his jaw tightening. “It’s rare, but…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Miruna didn’t press, sensing that whatever weighed on him wasn’t something he was ready to share just yet.

“What about you?” Alaric asked suddenly, his gaze shifting back to her. “You don’t seem too excited.”

Miruna’s fingers brushed lightly against the edge of her robe. “I don’t know much about elementals,” she admitted softly. “They don’t teach it in magical Britain.”

Alaric’s brows knit together in confusion. “Why not?”

“Safety concerns,” Miruna said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Or… at least that’s what they claim.” She kept her gaze forward, not wanting to see the pity or confusion she knew would be in his eyes.

Alaric was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his tone gentle. “You’ll catch on. It’s not as complicated as it sounds.”

Miruna gave him a small, grateful smile.

By the time they reached the Elemental Pavilion, the tension between them had eased slightly.

The pavilion was breathtaking. Circular and grand, it stood on the edge of the underground lake that bordered the main cavern. Smooth white marble pillars stretched toward the ceiling, supporting a stained-glass dome that scattered colorful patterns across the polished floor. Hanging baskets of vibrant flowers and trailing vines dangled from above, and torches lined the perimeter, their flames flickering gently in the cool, damp air.

At the center, a ring of cushions was arranged neatly on the floor, with four larger, elaborately embroidered pillows placed in the heart of the circle.

“Wow…” Miruna murmured, her eyes wide as she took it all in.

“Yeah,” Alaric agreed softly, though his gaze wasn’t on the pavilion. His eyes lingered on the stained glass above, but the shadow of unease had returned to his expression.

“Come on,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Let’s grab a seat.”

They settled onto two of the outer cushions as more students trickled in. Their conversation turned to the previous week’s examinations, Alaric speaking with quiet confidence about his results, though Miruna sensed he was holding something back.

As more students filed into the pavilion, the hum of voices filled the space, anticipation thick in the air.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The murmurs of conversation faded as four figures entered the pavilion, each one cloaked in robes that shimmered with the colors of their respective elements.

The Master of Fire was a woman with fierce eyes and an air of quiet command. Her robes glowed in hues of red, orange, and gold, the very air around her feeling warmer as she stepped forward.

Beside her, the Master of Earth was a broad-shouldered man whose presence exuded calm stability. His robes were a blend of green, brown, and bronze, and his gaze was steady and unyielding.

The Master of Water moved with a grace that mirrored the ebb and flow of the tide. His blue and silver robes shimmered like moonlight on the surface of a lake, and his expression was unreadable as his eyes scanned the students.

Finally, the Master of Air stood with an ethereal lightness, her robes of pure white streaked with shimmering grays and purples giving her an almost otherworldly presence.

“Welcome,” the Master of Fire began, her voice smooth but carrying undeniable authority. “We are the Masters of the Elements. Each of us embodies one of the four primary forces that shape the world around us.”

“Only those with an affinity for elemental magic are permitted in this class,” the Master of Earth continued, his tone measured and firm. “Though uncommon, CPSAM has long been a haven for elementals of all kinds.”

“Today,” the Master of Water said, his voice smooth as silk, “we will determine which element calls to you.”

The Master of Air stepped forward, her voice a gentle breeze that carried across the space. “Each of you will approach the crystal and place your hands upon its surface. Listen closely, and you will hear the voice of the element that resonates within you.”

Miruna’s gaze lifted toward the massive crystal sphere suspended high above the center of the pavilion. It pulsed softly, its glow shifting as though responding to the energy within the room.

“One by one,” the Master of Fire instructed, “you will come forward and seek the element that answers your call.”

The line moved steadily as each student approached the crystal, their hands brushing the cool surface. The sphere responded with vibrant hues— red for fire, green for earth, blue for water, and white for air.

Miruna and Alaric stood near the back, watching in silence.

When Alaric’s turn finally came, Miruna caught the flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he stepped forward. His hands pressed against the crystal, and after a moment, the sphere lit up with a deep, vibrant blue .

Miruna saw the way his expression shifted—shock, followed by a flicker of disappointment that he tried to hide.

“No…” Alaric whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I should be a fire elemental,” he murmured, his voice strained. “It… it has to be wrong.”

The Master of Water stepped forward, his expression unreadable.

“The crystal is never wrong; it reveals what must be known,” he intoned, his voice calm but carrying an edge of finality that sent a chill down Miruna’s spine.

Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he followed quietly as the Master of Water led him toward the group of students gathered by the blue tapestry.

“Next,” the Master of Air called softly.

Miruna stepped forward, her heart pounding in her ears. Her hands brushed against the cool surface of the crystal, and almost immediately, she felt it—a gentle, playful breeze brushing against her senses, light and carefree.

But then—

A second voice echoed, steady and powerful, like the rhythm of waves against the shore.

Miruna’s breath caught as the crystal responded. A swirl of blue and white danced together, twining and twisting like threads of silk.

The Masters exchanged a glance.

“You have an affinity for two elements,” the Master of Water said softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Such a thing is… rare.”

“Very rare,” the Master of Air added, her gaze thoughtful. “Most families who carry dual affinities train their own.”

Miruna’s pulse quickened. “What does that mean?”

The Master of Water’s expression softened. “It means you have a choice.”

“You may choose one path to master,” the Master of Fire explained, her tone respectful, “or split your time between the two.”

“I’ll study both,” Miruna said without hesitation.

The Master of Water gave her a small nod. “Then you will join the water group today. You will alternate between water and air each week.”

Miruna’s steps were steady as she crossed the pavilion, her eyes finding Alaric’s the moment she reached the group. His expression was neutral, but the tightness in his jaw and the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes spoke volumes.

“Gather around,” the Master of Water instructed, his tone softer now. “Introduce yourselves.”

Miruna and Alaric exchanged a glance before turning toward the other two students.

“I’m Nadia,” said a girl with sleek black hair and a quiet intensity in her blue-gray eyes. Her posture was poised, her movements graceful and deliberate.

“Felix,” said a boy with wavy brown hair and an easygoing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His expression was calm, but Miruna sensed something guarded beneath the surface.

“Miruna,” she said softly, offering a small nod.

Alaric’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Alaric.”

The Master of Water stepped forward, producing a series of small, shimmering conch shells.

“These,” they explained, “will hold more water than their size suggests. Fill them from the lake surrounding the pavilion, and hold them there for one minute without dropping them. They will become attuned to your magic and serve as a vessel for your training.”

Miruna knelt by the water’s edge, dipping her shell carefully into the lake. As she held it steady, the cool sensation of the water pulsed against her palm. When she pulled it free, the shell gleamed with a faint sheen—cool and dry despite the liquid it contained.

After a moment’s thought, Miruna pressed the shell gently to her prosthetic limb. The enchanted metal shifted, molding around the shell to create a small divot where it could rest securely while still remaining visible.

As she finished, she noticed the rest of her group place their shells on a chain and then hang them around their necks. 

The Master of Water stood before the small group, his expression calm but commanding as he gestured for them to settle on the cushions he had levitated over. The air in the pavilion seemed to cool slightly as his voice carried across the space, smooth and steady like a stream flowing over polished stone.

“Before we begin formal training tomorrow,” he began, his eyes sweeping over the four of them, “it is essential that you understand the legacy you now carry. Water is more than a force—it is a reflection of balance, change, and persistence. It carves mountains and reshapes the land over time, yet it can also soothe and sustain life.”

Miruna’s gaze was drawn to the ripple of the lake just beyond the pavilion, its surface shimmering under the stained glass reflections.

“Water elementals have shaped the course of magical history more than most realize,” the Master continued. “One such figure was Isolde Tysara, whose control over the tides during the Great War of Aether kept entire fleets from advancing on our shores. She could summon storms that would crack the very sky, but her greatest strength was her ability to still the chaos with a single command.”

Miruna’s brow furrowed slightly, her mind trying to recall any mention of Isolde in her previous studies, but her memory yielded nothing.

“Another name you should know,” the Master went on, “is Lord Cedric Valen, a master of convergence who was said to have merged his magic with the ocean itself. His control over water was so profound that he could pull moisture from the air, turning barren deserts into thriving landscapes.”

The quiet reverence in the Master’s voice was unmistakable as he spoke, and Miruna felt the weight of these names settle around her like an unseen current.

“Such mastery,” the Master said softly, “is not achieved overnight. It is earned through discipline, understanding, and respect for the element’s true nature.”

He paused, his gaze shifting between them, his tone growing more serious. “Training begins tomorrow, but do not expect to be coddled. Mastering water—or any element—requires more than raw talent. It demands knowledge. You will be expected to read and understand the histories of our kind in your own time. Class time will be devoted to honing your skills, not teaching you what should already be known.”

Miruna’s stomach tightened at the subtle warning in his tone. More reading. She had already been devouring texts since her arrival, and now another layer of study was being added to her ever-growing list of responsibilities.

“You will receive a list of recommended texts after today’s session,” the Master concluded, his eyes narrowing slightly as they swept across the group. “Fail to understand where you come from, and you will never fully grasp where your power can take you.”

A heavy silence followed his words, the weight of responsibility settling on Miruna’s shoulders.

As the lesson concluded, Miruna felt a growing sense of anticipation. Her gaze lingered on the shimmering conch shell now securely nestled in the molded groove of her prosthetic. Its iridescent sheen caught the light, reflecting a faint ripple of magic that pulsed softly in sync with her own.

But before she could gather her thoughts, the Master of Air stepped toward her. Her robes, shimmering with hues of gray and faint purple, gave her an ethereal presence as she moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.

“Miss Potter,” she murmured, her voice as soft as a breeze stirring through leaves. “A moment, please.”

Miruna followed her to the edge of the pavilion where the light from the lake danced across the marble floor. The Master extended her hand, and resting delicately in her palm was a windchime charm—small, intricate, and shaped like a silver cloud. Three slender crystals, each no longer than her smallest finger, dangled from the metal cloud, catching the light and scattering fragments of color across the marble floor. The charm was delicate, but Miruna could sense the quiet pulse of power radiating from it—a breath of wind trapped within metal, waiting to be set free.

“Add this to your shell,” the Master said softly, her tone gentle but laced with quiet purpose. “This windchime will serve you as the conch shell does. Where the shell carries the water’s strength, the windchime holds the memory of the air that has passed through it. Both will aid you in your training.”

Miruna’s fingers brushed against the cool surface of the charm. The moment her skin made contact, a faint hum resonated through her palm—a soft, airy pulse that danced like the touch of wind against her skin. It was light, playful even, but beneath that was something older, something that spoke of currents that had carried whispers through the ages.

“Why both?” Miruna asked softly, her brow furrowing as she studied the charm.

The Master’s gaze was calm, her pale eyes shimmering with quiet understanding. “One need not master both,” she said gently, “but learning from one can often strengthen your grasp of the other. Air and water… they may move differently, but they share more than most realize. Understanding their nature can deepen your control and intuition.”

Miruna nodded, her mind already turning over the possibilities. Carefully, she affixed the windchime beside the conch shell. As the charm settled into place, the crystals chimed softly, their delicate notes carried by the gentle breeze that stirred through the pavilion.

Yet even as the chime clicked into position, Miruna’s thoughts drifted. She glanced down at the charm, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. The windchime was beautiful where it was, but…

This belongs closer.

A quiet certainty settled over her, and she made a silent vow to herself.

I’ll make it into an earring.

It made sense. She would feel the air’s pulse at her ear, the gentle chime a reminder of the strength she was learning to wield. And deep down, there was a sense that keeping it close—near her mind, where instinct and intuition met—might offer her something more.

I’ll find a way to pierce my ears, she resolved quietly. It’ll be worth it.

As if sensing her decision, the windchime gave another soft chime, the crystals catching the light and scattering it like tiny stars.

“Good,” the Master of Air murmured, a small smile ghosting across her lips. “You’ll find that the windchime responds to subtle shifts in the air. Pay attention to it, Miss Potter. It will teach you as much as any textbook.”

Her heart thudded softly in her chest as the Master’s words sank in.

“Thank you,” Miruna murmured, her voice barely louder than the breeze that stirred around them.

The Master of Air inclined her head slightly before extending her other hand, offering Miruna a small, neatly bound packet.

“These are your introductory notes,” the Master explained, her voice still carrying that soft, airy quality. “They cover the foundations of air manipulation—concepts you’ll need to grasp before you join the group next week.”

Miruna accepted the packet, the crisp parchment cool against her fingertips.

“Read through them carefully,” the Master continued, her gaze steady but kind. “When you return, you’ll be expected to keep pace with the others. And though you may not need to master both elements, understanding air will grant you greater insight into the fluidity of water… and vice versa.”

Miruna nodded, tucking the packet securely under her arm.

“Thank you, Master,” she murmured again, her voice carrying a weight of genuine gratitude.

The Master’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before she stepped back, her presence fading like a breeze that had fulfilled its purpose.

As Miruna stood there, the cool breeze from the lake stirring her hair and the faint hum of magic vibrating through her prosthetic, she took a steadying breath. The weight of her new responsibilities pressed down on her shoulders, but beneath that… there was a flicker of something else.

Anticipation.

She was no stranger to hard work, and this?

This was just the beginning.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The walk back to the castle was quiet, the air between Miruna and Alaric heavy with unspoken thoughts. The faint echoes of footsteps against the stone path filled the space where words should have been, but Miruna didn’t push. She could feel the tension in Alaric’s posture—the way his shoulders were slightly hunched, and his gaze remained fixed on the path ahead.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” Miruna said softly after a while, her voice barely louder than the breeze that stirred around them.

Alaric’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t respond. But when he finally spoke, his voice was strained—barely above a whisper.

“I’m fine.”

Miruna glanced sideways at him, her expression soft but knowing. “You’re not,” she murmured gently. “And that’s okay.”

Alaric’s steps slowed, his fingers curling tightly at his sides. For a heartbeat, he seemed to be waging a silent battle within himself, his emotions flickering just beneath the surface.

“They were all fire elementals,” he finally said, his voice barely steady. “Every single one of them. And now…” He trailed off, his eyes darkening as they fixed on some distant point.

“Now you’re not.”

Alaric didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tightened told Miruna everything she needed to know.

“I know what it’s like,” she said softly, her tone laced with quiet understanding. “To not be what they expect.”

Alaric’s gaze flickered to her then, his green eyes searching hers as if trying to gauge whether her words were hollow. But all he found was sincerity.

“You’re not alone in this,” Miruna whispered, her voice barely above the wind that stirred through the cavern.

Alaric didn’t speak, but some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

As they drew closer to the castle, the soft glow of enchanted lights illuminated the path ahead. The familiar warmth of the dining hall beckoned from beyond the grand archway, and as they approached, Miruna’s roommates spotted her from across the hall.

“Miruna!” Thalia called out, waving her over with a bright smile. Aurelia and Seraphina stood beside her, their faces full of curiosity and excitement.

Miruna hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering back to Alaric.

“See you later?” she asked softly, her tone laced with quiet hope.

Alaric gave a small nod, though the guarded look in his eyes hadn’t completely faded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now.

As Miruna watched him turn away and disappear into the crowd, her heart tightened.

Something’s wrong.

Alaric was holding something back, something that weighed on him more than he was willing to admit.

But for now…

Those answers would have to wait.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Lunch was a lively affair, the clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation filling the grand dining hall. Miruna and her roommates had claimed their usual corner of the long table, their plates piled high with roasted vegetables, savory meats, and warm rolls that practically melted in their mouths. Aurelia, ever the quiet observer, listened attentively as Seraphina animatedly recounted her morning in Magical Combat Theory. Thalia chimed in with her impressions of their shared Ethics of Magic and Enchantment Law class, her gentle tone laced with thoughtfulness as she reflected on Lady Lysandra’s words about power and influence.

Miruna listened, adding her own comments here and there about her morning classes while carefully avoiding the topic of her unexpected dual affinity. She wasn’t ready to share that just yet.

“So what’s next?” Thalia asked as she stabbed a piece of roasted carrot with her fork.

“Advanced Glyphwork and Runic Theory,” Seraphina replied with a grin. “I’ve been looking forward to this one.”

“Wait,” Miruna blinked, her eyes darting between them. “You’re all in that class too?”

“Looks like it,” Aurelia said softly, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Perfect,” Miruna murmured, a warmth settling in her chest. At least I won’t be alone for this one.

The four of them finished their meal with a bit more excitement, exchanging guesses about what the class might cover. Miruna found herself relaxing in their easy company, the steady rhythm of conversation grounding her as they prepared for the afternoon ahead.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The classroom for Advanced Glyphwork and Runic Theory was tucked deeper into the academic wing of the castle, its walls lined with ancient texts and enchanted scrolls that buzzed faintly with latent magic. The large room was filled with round tables, each with enough seats to accommodate four to six students comfortably. The polished wooden surface of each table was etched with faint runic patterns, worn down by years of eager hands tracing their shapes.

Miruna and her roommates settled at a table near the middle of the room. She was about to ask Seraphina something about the course when a short man with graying hair and bright, inquisitive eyes strode into the room. His robes were slightly rumpled, as though he’d been too busy with his work to bother smoothing them out.

“Good afternoon, students!” he greeted cheerfully, his voice carrying easily across the room despite his stature. “I am Professor Rathborne, but…” He paused, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Just call me Mr. R. Titles make me feel old.”

A ripple of quiet laughter spread across the room, and Miruna found herself smiling despite the weight of the morning still lingering in her mind.

“Now,” Mr. R continued, clapping his hands together. “Welcome to Advanced Glyphwork and Runic Theory. This class is not for the faint of heart.” His eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement. “Runes and glyphs are more than just symbols carved into stone or etched onto parchment. They are the language of magic itself—a bridge between thought and reality, binding intent to action.”

As he spoke, he waved his hand, and the runes carved into the tables began to glow softly, casting a warm golden light across the room.

“Grab a notebook from the front,” he instructed, gesturing toward a wooden shelf where neat stacks of blank journals rested. “You’ll use these for all your notes and exercises. At the end of class, leave them in the cubby labeled ‘2 PM - 3:30 PM’ by the door.”

The students shuffled to the front of the room to collect their notebooks. Miruna flipped through hers as she returned to her seat—the pages were thick, the parchment high-quality, perfect for sketching intricate glyphs and making detailed notes.

Mr. R wasted no time diving into the basics, explaining the foundational principles of runic structures and the importance of intent when carving or inscribing symbols. Miruna’s quill scratched softly across the parchment as she took diligent notes, occasionally exchanging quiet whispers and commentary with her roommates.

“Imagine getting one of these wrong,” Seraphina murmured, her brow furrowing as she traced a rune with her fingertip.

“Explosion,” Thalia replied with a wry smile.

“Or worse,” Aurelia added softly, her tone laced with quiet caution.

The lecture was engaging, and before they knew it, the last fifteen minutes of class arrived.

“Now,” Mr. R said, leaning casually against his desk, “I want you all to spend these last few minutes writing about one of the most important uses of runes. It could be anything—protection, communication, even binding magic. There’s no wrong answer. I just want to see where your thoughts take you.”

Miruna’s quill moved fluidly across the page, her mind drifting to the delicate wards carved into the enchanted doorway of her hidden sanctuary back at home. Protection… but also secrecy.

When the bell finally rang, the girls gathered their things, leaving their notebooks in the designated cubby as instructed.

“That was… a lot,” Seraphina said as they made their way out of the classroom.

“Fascinating though,” Aurelia murmured, her eyes thoughtful.

“Definitely,” Miruna agreed, her mind already buzzing with ideas about how she could incorporate runes into her enchantments.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The magical greenhouses were a short walk from the castle, nestled along the outskirts of the main cavern where soft sunlight filtered in through crystal-lined openings in the ice. The air inside was warm and thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming flora.

“Welcome, welcome!” A round witch with short, graying hair and a dirt-stained apron greeted them enthusiastically, her bright eyes twinkling with warmth. “I’m Professor Halloway, but none of that formal nonsense here. Just call me Maggie.”

Her warm smile immediately set Miruna at ease.

“Find a seat anywhere,” Maggie instructed, gesturing toward the wooden workbenches that circled the large open space.

Miruna settled at a bench near the center, joining a group of two girls and three boys. The twins—tall, freckled, and identical down to the mischievous gleam in their eyes—introduced themselves as Elias and Ethan.

“Double trouble,” one of the girls murmured with a grin, earning a laugh from the group.

The other two introduced themselves as Imara and Felix, both seeming friendly and curious about the class.

Once everyone had found their places, Maggie clapped her hands together, drawing their attention.

“Today’s lesson is simple,” she began, her voice carrying easily despite the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of magical wards protecting the greenhouse. “We’ll be going over expectations—safety, procedures, and all that necessary business.”

She launched into a speech about the importance of wearing closed-toe shoes, keeping gloves on at all times, and being prepared to get their hands dirty. But before she could finish, a knock at the door interrupted her.

“Hold that thought.” Maggie bustled over to the door, pulling it open to reveal a large wooden crate. She dragged it inside effortlessly, her wand guiding it to the front of the room.

“Gloves,” she announced, lifting the lid to reveal neatly folded pairs of dragon leather gloves. “Grab a pair that fits and keep them close. You’ll need them.”

The students dutifully found gloves that fit snugly over their hands. The dragon leather was supple but strong, and Miruna was relieved to find that they weren’t too stiff for delicate work.

“Now,” Maggie said as she returned to the center of the room, her hands on her hips. “Let’s talk plants and their uses.”

She passed out small potted plants to each table—lush green leaves with vibrant purple veins pulsing softly with latent magic.

“Meet the Moonleaf Vine ,” Maggie said with a grin. “Excellent for healing salves and potions that require moon-aligned energy. But don’t let its beauty fool you—its sap can be mildly toxic if mishandled.”

Miruna’s quill scratched across her parchment as she took detailed notes, sketching the delicate veins and marking down key points about its properties, habitat, and uses.

By the time they had finished, Maggie glanced at the enchanted clock near the door.

“Well,” she said, her smile warm as ever, “since you’ve all done such a splendid job today, I’m letting you out twenty minutes early.”

A ripple of quiet excitement ran through the class.

“Finish any reading or notes you need to,” Maggie added, her voice softer now. “Rest up. The real work begins soon.”

As they packed up, Miruna and Imara lingered for a moment, sharing quiet thoughts about how warm and motherly Maggie felt.

“She’s… different,” Imara murmured with a thoughtful smile.

“Yeah,” Miruna agreed softly, her gaze lingering on the greenhouse where Maggie stood by the door, waving goodbye with that same gentle warmth as the students dispersed.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

With her free period ahead, Miruna made her way to the library, her steps light despite the weight of her growing workload. The library’s vast shelves stretched endlessly, and she instinctively found herself drawn to the second floor where quieter alcoves and private study nooks waited.

She pulled a few books from the shelves—one on air elemental magics, another on water, and a third that caught her eye: A Guide to Basic Cosmetic Charms.

Settling into a corner where the light pooled gently across her desk, Miruna lost herself in her reading. The pages whispered secrets of elemental control and intricate charm work. When she stumbled across a charm for ear piercing— Piercere Auris —she lingered on the page, her mind already circling back to the windchime charm resting safely in her prosthetic.

Later, she promised herself, closing the book with a quiet thud.

Time slipped away faster than she expected. The soft chime of the library’s enchanted clock pulled her back to the present, and she scrambled to gather her things.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

By the time she made it back to the castle, the dining hall was already filling with students. The scent of roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and buttery rolls filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of vegetable stew and warm apple tarts.

Her roommates spotted her immediately, waving her over with knowing smiles as they eyed the small pile of books cradled in her arms.

“Lost in the library?” Seraphina teased, her eyes twinkling.

“I wasn’t that late,” Miruna muttered, though the warmth in her cheeks gave her away.

“Barely made it before the good rolls were gone,” Thalia teased gently, passing her one with a wink.

Miruna couldn’t help but laugh as she settled into her seat, the familiar comfort of their easy banter wrapping around her like a protective shield.

This… this feels right.

As she filled her plate and joined the conversation, the tension that had lingered from the morning slowly faded. For now, surrounded by warmth and laughter, Miruna let herself breathe.

Tomorrow would bring more challenges—but right now?

Right now, she was home.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Dinner was winding down when a small folded note appeared beside Miruna’s plate, shimmering faintly before settling onto the smooth surface. She blinked in surprise and picked it up, her eyes scanning the elegant handwriting.

Fourth floor, east corridor. Classroom 417. 7 PM sharp.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Miruna murmured, setting the note aside and finishing the last bite of her roasted chicken.

“What’s that?” Seraphina asked, leaning in with mild curiosity.

“Tutoring session,” Miruna replied, her tone light but her stomach twisting slightly. She hadn’t been expecting anything so formal on her first day.

“We’ll be in the library if you’re free after,” Thalia said softly, her expression gentle as always.

“Yeah, come find us,” Aurelia added with a small smile.

“Will do,” Miruna promised, giving them a parting grin before slipping away from the dining hall.

The castle was quieter in the evenings, the hum of daytime activity replaced by the soft echoes of footsteps and the occasional flicker of torchlight dancing across the stone walls. Miruna’s path led her to the fourth floor, where Classroom 417 waited at the end of a dimly lit corridor.

The room was empty when she entered. Rows of wooden desks lined the space, each one polished but worn with the marks of years of magical instruction. Large windows along one wall overlooked the cavern below, where the lake’s shimmering surface reflected the crystalline glow of the enchanted ceiling.

Miruna sat near the front, her fingers lightly drumming against the desk. The quiet stretched on, and after a moment, she pulled out one of the books on air magic she’d borrowed from the library. Her eyes scanned the ancient script, losing herself in the intricate theories of air manipulation until—

BANG!

The door flew open with a loud crash, slamming into the stone wall with enough force to rattle the desks. Miruna jumped, her heart pounding as her head snapped up.

“I’m so sorry!” came a familiar voice, breathless and full of panic.

Miruna blinked, her surprise giving way to stunned recognition.

“Ivan?”

Standing in the doorway, panting and looking utterly disheveled, was Ivan Dragomir. His usually neat robes were slightly askew, and his dark hair was messier than usual. His staff, which was typically tucked neatly across his back, was half-dragging behind him.

He froze the moment he saw her, his eyes widening as his face broke into a sheepish grin.

“Oh,” he breathed, straightening with an awkward laugh. “It’s you.”

Miruna raised an amused eyebrow.

“Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen,” he added quickly, flashing her a grin that was part charm, part desperation. “I’d rather not ruin the first impression.”

Miruna’s lips twitched before she let out a soft laugh. “Too late.”

“Damn,” Ivan muttered with a mock sigh, finally stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “I just came from one of the classes I help with for my apprenticeship. Got a little… delayed.”

“Clearly.” Miruna’s amusement lingered, but her curiosity was piqued now.

Ivan shook off his frazzled state, pulling a thick stack of papers from his bag. He dropped them onto the desk with a dramatic thud.

“Okay,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, though his grin remained. “You’re not allowed to hate me for this.”

Miruna eyed the pile warily. “What is that?”

“A placement test.” Ivan smirked. “To see where you stand.”

Miruna groaned, letting her forehead drop onto the desk.

“Come on,” Ivan teased, nudging the papers closer to her. “It’s not that bad. I promise.”

“Liar,” she mumbled, but she grabbed a quill and pulled the packet toward her.

The questions were challenging but fair—covering a range of magical theory, spellwork, alchemy, and even elemental magic. Miruna worked diligently, her quill scratching softly across the parchment as Ivan settled across from her, watching with a mix of curiosity and quiet amusement.

When she finally finished, Ivan waved his staff over the papers. The stack lifted, pages flipping in midair as the answers sorted themselves into neat piles. Each question glowed—green for correct answers, red for wrong.

“Not bad,” Ivan murmured as he scanned the results. “Really not bad.”

He pulled a few books from his bag, setting them down beside her. “These are the updated versions of the texts you probably read before. They’re self-updating with the latest theories and advancements. Should keep you from falling behind.”

Miruna stared at the four hefty tomes and groaned dramatically. “You’re trying to drown me in books on my first day.”

“Guilty.” Ivan grinned, but there was genuine warmth in his expression.

“Fine.” She relented with a mock sigh.

As Ivan flipped through the papers, he paused at a section on transfiguration.

“You missed a few questions here,” he murmured, his brow furrowing slightly. “Want me to walk you through one of the theories?”

“Sure.”

Ivan explained the concept with ease, his tone animated and filled with a passion that made the complex theory easier to grasp. After a few minutes, he paused, his gaze shifting to her staff, still in its bracelet form.

“Want to give it a try?” he asked, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

Miruna didn’t hesitate. She tapped her bracelet, feeling the familiar pulse as her staff extended outward.

“Alright,” she murmured, focusing on the wooden block Ivan placed on the table.

Her intent was clear, her focus steady—but the moment her magic surged forward, something… shifted.

The block didn’t just transfigure.

The entire table exploded into a cascade of feathers that filled the room, scattering in every direction.

For a long moment, both of them just… stared.

“Uh…” Ivan blinked, his expression caught between awe and disbelief.

Miruna’s eyes were wide, her breath caught in her throat.

“I think,” she said cautiously, “this might have something to do with what my healer mentioned…”

Ivan’s brow lifted. “Funky magic?”

“Funky magic,” Miruna confirmed with a sigh.

Ivan’s grin returned, this time tinged with dry humor. “Well… at least you’re not boring.”

With a flourish, Ivan waved his staff, and the feathers reversed course, reforming into the wooden table with practiced ease.

“Let’s work on regulating your magic,” he said, his tone more serious now.

The rest of the session was spent refining Miruna’s control—focusing on the amount of magic she poured into her spells. By the end, she had improved… marginally. The block now turned into one large feather instead of an entire flock.

“Progress,” Ivan teased as he gathered his things.

“Barely,” Miruna grumbled, but her lips quirked into a smile.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Ivan gave her a quick nod, his expression warm. “Good night, Miruna.”

“Good night, Ivan.”

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Miruna headed straight for the library after leaving her tutoring session, her mind still buzzing with the events of the evening. She found her roommates tucked into one of the cozy alcoves on the first floor, surrounded by stacks of books.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, slipping into the seat beside Thalia.

“Survived your tutoring session?” Seraphina asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Barely,” Miruna murmured, her lips tugging into a tired smile.

They sat together, chatting quietly and sharing snippets of their evening experiences. The comfort of their easy companionship soothed Miruna’s frazzled nerves, and by the time the clock struck nine, she felt more grounded.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The Astronomy Tower was breathtaking at night. The enchanted glass ceiling opened up to the vast expanse of the sky beyond, where countless stars shimmered like scattered diamonds.

The class, Celestial Cartography & Astronomical Magic, was held in one of the upper observation rooms, where wide telescopes lined the walls, and enchanted star charts floated in midair.

Professor Vega, a tall, willowy woman with silver hair and eyes that reflected the stars themselves, stood at the front of the room.

“Tonight,” she began, her voice calm and melodic, “we will discuss the alignment of celestial bodies and their impact on magical currents.”

Miruna’s quill moved swiftly across her parchment as she took notes, her mind already captivated by the intricate connections between the stars and the flow of magic. Professor Vega guided them through charting constellations, identifying star patterns, and understanding how the movement of the heavens influenced spellwork.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Miruna met her roommates outside the Astronomy Tower, their faces reflecting the quiet awe that lingered after a night spent gazing at the stars.

“That was… incredible,” Aurelia murmured softly.

“Beyond,” Thalia agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they made their way back to the dorms, their conversation shifted to their evening classes, laughter and quiet musings filling the cool night air.

When they reached the common area, Miruna spotted Alaric sitting alone in one of the chairs, his head bent as he tucked a letter into his robes.

“Hey,” Miruna greeted softly, her steps slowing as she approached.

Alaric looked up, his expression guarded but softening when he saw her.

“Family?” she asked gently.

Alaric’s jaw clenched, but he gave a slight nod.

Miruna didn’t push. She just sat beside him, her presence steady and patient.

“You don’t have to tell them yet,” she said softly after a moment. “But… don’t wait too long either. They should know—when you’re ready.”

Alaric’s lips pressed into a thin line before he exhaled slowly. “I want to… I just… need to find the right way.”

“Then take your time,” Miruna murmured, her voice filled with quiet understanding. “But make sure they know, Alaric. When you’re ready.”

A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “I will.”

They parted with quiet goodnights, and Miruna made her way upstairs to her dorm.

The shower washed away the fatigue of the day, and by the time she slipped into her nightgown and crawled into bed, exhaustion weighed heavily on her limbs.

Her mind barely had time to replay the events of the day before sleep claimed her.