Chapter One: The Raven That Caught Fire
Elara Wynn had survived many humiliations in life — falling face-first into the school fountain, accidentally texting her teacher "I love you" instead of her mom, and once mistaking a mannequin for her crush and asking it to prom. But none of those compared to the moment a raven flew into her bedroom, dropped a letter, and exploded into flames.
Yes. Flames.
It wasn't a normal fire either. It was blue. Sparkling. Whispery. The bird disintegrated into glittering ash midair and vanished into her rug like it had never existed.
Elara stood frozen, toothbrush still in her mouth, mint foam dribbling down her chin as she stared at the place the bird had just been. Her brain helpfully offered up the only reasonable response:
"...What the hell?"
The letter it had dropped lay smoking on her carpet, the edges pulsing with faint golden light. It didn't burst into flames, thank God. Instead, it shimmered like it was dipped in stars. The envelope was black, sealed with wax — a glowing moon and an eye beneath it.
Elara spat into the sink, wiped her mouth, and poked the envelope with her foot.
Nothing happened.
She picked it up.
Something definitely happened.
The moment her fingers touched it, her vision twitched — like reality hiccupped. Her room flickered. For half a second, the walls bled into black stone, candles flickered where her LED lights were, and her reflection in the mirror... blinked at her.
It wasn't her blink.
Then it was gone. Just her messy room again. Just her weird life. Just her, holding a letter from a flaming raven.
The letter read:
---
> Nymeria Arcane Academy
To the recipient of this letter —
You have been Selected.
You are required to report to the Gate Mirror before sundown on the seventh day from today. Pack only what you can carry. All else will be provided.
This is not a request. The Veil is thinning.
Come quickly.
— Headmistress Arvyn
---
Elara read it three times.
Then, for good measure, banged her head gently against the desk.
She didn't believe in magic. Sure, weird stuff happened around her — lightbulbs flickering when she was mad, doors unlocking when she was desperate, the time her cat glowed for no reason (Mittens was fine, mostly). But this? A secret magical school?
"Absolutely not," she muttered. "This is what happens when you mix sleep deprivation with internet rabbit holes."
She tossed the letter on her bed, fully intending to pretend it never happened.
That lasted about five hours — until the second raven showed up during dinner.
This one didn't explode. It dropped a black pouch into her mashed potatoes, cawed dramatically, and stared at her with its glowing purple eyes like, Seriously? You're still here?
Inside the pouch was a silver crescent moon pendant. Cold as ice. And a map — inked in blood red, showing the layout of a floating castle that definitely didn't exist on Google Maps.
That night, she dreamed of fire, snow, and a woman with no face whispering in her ear: You were never supposed to be ordinary.
---
Three days later, Elara stood in front of a cracked antique mirror at the back of her grandmother's attic, suitcase in hand, hair frizzy, heart pounding, and eyes wide.
The mirror shimmered.
A doorway opened in the glass.
And without really knowing why — without fully believing this wasn't a hallucination — she stepped through.
---
On the other side was Nymeria Arcane Academy.
Floating in the clouds. Laced with bridges of light. Towers rising like spires from dreams. Bats bigger than crows swooping across glowing skies. The scent of magic thick as cinnamon and moonlight.
It was terrifyingly beautiful.
And standing at the gate, arms folded, was a woman in blood-red robes and very sensible boots.
"Miss Elara Wynn," she said, "You're late."
Elara blinked. "Sorry. I had to pack snacks."
"Of course," the woman said, not smiling. "Welcome to Nymeria. Try not to die."
---