It was finally time.
The hands of the clock crept toward the hour like the closing of a spell. 8:55 p.m. I sat alone in the living room, eyes locked on the ticking second hand, waiting for it to reach the top.
9 p.m. on the 9th of January.
The date echoed in my head—engraved ever since Mr. Koivisto told me and Ms. Penelope that he'd be coming to pick me up for the journey to his mysterious academy.
I hadn't moved from the couch in over an hour.
Soft footsteps broke the silence.
Ms. Penelope came down the stairs slowly, holding a folded handkerchief in one hand. "Are you ready, Orien?" she asked gently.
"I am, Ms. Penelope."
She tried to smile, but tears had already started forming in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice quivering, "I didn't want to cry before you left, but... I'm going to miss you. And so will the other kids. You were like a big brother to them—especially little Gracy."
I stood from the couch and stepped forward to hug her, barely reaching her waist. She was wearing heels again, but even without them, she always seemed to tower like some warm, untouchable fortress.
"It's okay, Ms. Penelope," I murmured. "I'll be back during winter recess. It's not like I'm gone forever. I'll get two months off to visit."
"Oh, my sweet boy," she said, cupping my cheek. "You've always looked on the bright side… even when the world didn't deserve it."
She kissed my forehead, trying not to let the tears fall.
Knock. Knock.
We both turned toward the sound of the front door.
"That must be Mr. Koivisto," she said, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath, placed a smile on her face, and opened the door.
"Welcome, Mr. Koivisto."
"Hello, Ms. Penelope." He gave a respectful nod. "Evening, Orien. Are you ready?"
"Yes," I said with a calm breath.
"Good. We need to leave right away—we're on a tight schedule. Did you get to say your goodbyes?"
"I talked to the kids earlier," I said. "And just now with Ms. Penelope."
"Perfect," he said, stepping inside. "I'll take your luggage."
He walked over to the couch, grabbed my single packed bag, and slung it over his shoulder without effort.
Just as I was about to step outside, I stopped.
I turned back around and rushed into Ms. Penelope's arms one more time, hugging her tightly.
"Bye, Ms. Penelope… I mean—Mom," I said, smiling through the crack in my voice.
She fought to hold in her tears. "Take care, my son."
She hugged me tightly, then let go with trembling hands. I stepped out onto the porch, waving. She stood at the door, waving back with a bittersweet smile.
"You better take care of Orien, Mr. Koivisto!" she called out, trying to sound stern.
He gave a thumbs-up. "Don't worry. He's in good hands. I promise."
We both got into the car. I buckled in, then looked over at Mr. Koivisto behind the passenger seat.
"You're not driving?"
"No," he said. "A friend of mine is giving us a lift. Orien, this is Kevin. Kevin, meet Orien."
The driver turned slightly, offering a warm smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Orien."
"The pleasure's all mine," I said, returning the smile.
"I'll also be teaching at the academy," Kevin added. "So it made more sense to drive us both to the airport tonight."
"Oh, cool," I said, a flicker of excitement creeping into my voice. "That's… actually really cool."
The car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the night—toward the unknown.
A few minutes into the drive, my curiosity finally got the better of me.
"So… what part of Canada is this school in?" I asked, glancing over at Mr. Koivisto. "Because I just realized I didn't pack anything for the cold." I smirked. "Guess I'll be freezing in style."
He chuckled. "Oh, about that… I may have lied."
My eyebrows raised. "Lied?"
"I didn't want to say too much in front of your caretaker," he said, keeping his tone casual. "It was easier to tell her it was in Canada."
"Ah. Makes sense," I said. "So where is it really? China? South America? Oh—wait, wait, Japan, right? Please tell me it's Japan. I've always wanted to go."
Koivisto laughed. "Those are all great guesses, Orien. But… no."
He looked out the window, then leaned back with a subtle smile.
"Umbra Arcanum Academy isn't located anywhere on Earth."
I blinked. "Wait… what?"
"It's in another plane of existence entirely," he said calmly, as if he were discussing the weather.
I stared at him. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious."
"…Then why are we going to the airport if it's not on this planet?"
He smirked, eyes glinting in the dim light. "You'll see."
"So… which terminal are we heading to?" I asked, glancing around the airport buzz.
"Terminal 4.5," Mr. Koivisto replied casually.
"Oh, okay," I nodded—then paused, squinting at him. "Wait, what? That's not even a real terminal. Why would a terminal be numbered four point five? That doesn't make any sense."
He smirked and looked down at me. "It doesn't exist for the average person. But we're not average, now are we?"
"I suppose not," I muttered, heart starting to race a little.
We kept walking until we reached the space between Terminal 4 and Terminal 5. It looked like nothing special—just a quiet corridor most travelers ignored.
"We're here. Gate GH," he said, pointing to a set of unassuming double doors nestled between the two terminals. I looked around. People passed by them without a second glance, as if the doors didn't even exist.
"What, people just walk past these and don't notice anything strange?"
Mr. Koivisto gave me a knowing look. "Remember what I told you about the Shadow Ink Barrier? That's why they don't notice the magic. They can't perceive it. But we can."
I stared at the doors again—this time, feeling something pulse behind them.
Something real.
Something waiting.
As soon as we stepped through the gate, what I saw quite literally stole the breath from my lungs.
We emerged into a vaulted corridor flanked by towering obsidian stone walls, each glinting faintly with veins of silver and blue light. On either side of us were eleven identical pairs of tall, arcane-carved doors—each one quietly sliding open to reveal travelers stepping through just like we had. People of all ages flooded in: teens with suitcases and gear, older men with walking sticks, parents with enchanted carts, and children herding cages filled with owls, crows, and even stranger creatures that whispered in clicks and hisses.
The floor beneath our feet gleamed like polished onyx, so smooth and reflective I could see my own face staring back up at me—eyes wide, mouth half open in awe.
Directly ahead, three wide staircases curved upward into the unknown. As we approached, they remained perfectly still—until we stepped onto one. Instantly, the stairs began to rise on their own, carrying us gently upward. It felt like being on an ancient elevator powered by thought.
As we ascended, I caught sight of an arched hallway branching to the right. Inscribed across the wall above it were glowing runes, shifting and dancing in a language I didn't recognize. But as I watched, the letters twisted—morphing, reorganizing themselves—until they spelled something I could read:
Welcome to Eclipsara, Land of Boundless Thauma.
That word—Thauma—sent a chill down my spine. I didn't even know what it meant, but it felt... sacred. Ancient.
And suddenly, I felt it.
A low vibration in my chest, as if something inside me had been asleep and was now stirring awake. My hands tingled. My vision seemed sharper. My thoughts clearer. It was like I had shed a heavy skin I didn't even know I'd been wearing.
"I feel... different," I said, glancing down at my hands, flexing my fingers slowly. "Like I'm being pulled into something deeper. Like... like part of me's syncing with the world around me."
Koivisto stepped beside me, hands folded behind his back, his cloak fluttering gently in the magical breeze.
"That's because here in Eclipsara," he said, voice calm and certain, "magic isn't scarce. It's not hidden. It's in the very bones of this realm. It breathes in the air, thrums in the stone. And now that you're here—your body remembers. Your blood recognizes it."
"It's... it's like I belong here," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He smiled faintly. "You do. When a soul marked by ink steps into the land of living Thauma... it does not enter quietly. It awakens."
And standing there, under runes that bent language and stone that hummed with power, I realized something:
This was the beginning.
As we stepped off the obsidian platform and into the heart of the station, I caught my reflection in the polished stone beneath me—my face half-lit by flickering inklamps above, half-shadowed by the unknown.
The air here tasted different. Sharper. Fuller. It wasn't just magic in the atmosphere—it was anticipation, humming like a chord waiting to be struck.
I turned to Mr. Koivisto. "So… where now?"
He smiled, that same unreadable smirk he always wore when he knew something I didn't.
"Now," he said, nodding toward a distant platform veiled in mist, "we catch the train."
The words echoed in my mind like prophecy.
The train. The academy. The truth.
I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
The ink hadn't even begun to dry—and already, I was stepping into the first line of a story far stranger than fiction.