The hallway curved like a serpent, its walls humming faintly with threads of glowing script. I followed the silver-eyed boy without speaking, each footstep echoing too loudly in the quiet, rune-lit space. The walls whispered things I couldn't catch. My name flickered in the patterns, disappearing the second I tried to focus.
Moonfang Academy was alive.
"You're assigned to Moon Hall," the boy finally said, stopping before a tall door made of pale wood veined with silver. "Third floor. Room 317."
I stepped forward, but he placed a hand on the door before I could open it. "Not everyone will be happy you're here. Not everyone thinks Moonborns should come back. Keep that in mind."
"Thanks for the warm welcome," I muttered.
He tilted his head, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. But then he vanished down the hall, melting into shadow like he'd never been there at all.
The door opened soundlessly.
Inside, the air shifted. It smelled like old paper, lavender, and the coldness before a storm. The staircase spiraled upward, lit by orbs that drifted beside the walls like lazy stars. Paintings blinked as I passed. One winked.
Aerie was quiet inside me, but I felt his tension like static under my skin.
"You okay?" I whispered.
This place remembers you.
"I've never been here."
No. But Selene has.
I didn't answer. I wasn't sure I had one.
Room 317 was at the end of a narrow corridor that looked like it had no floor—only mist. My boots made no sound when I walked across it.
The door to my room opened before I touched it.
Three beds. Three desks. Three wardrobes. And no corners.
I blinked.
The room had no corners. The walls curved, seamless, like we were inside a pearl. Soft light spilled from the ceiling in a gentle silver glow. Floating crystals bobbed near each bed.
Two of them were already occupied.
The first girl sat cross-legged on her bed, a glowing book hovering in front of her. She had rich, deep brown skin, hair in galaxy-colored braids, and silver cuffs on both arms that shimmered faintly. Her gaze flicked to me, assessing.
The second was lounging upside-down on her bed, feet hooked on the headboard, a constellation of freckles across her nose like stardust. Her eyes were gold. Not yellow. Gold. Like actual metal.
"Well, well," she said. "The Moonborn arrives."
I froze. "How do you—?"
"Everyone knows," the freckled girl said, flipping upright in a single, fluid motion. "You showed up with a Gate test and a shadow. You made an entrance."
"Ignore Riss," the girl with the book said. "She likes to talk. I'm Illyra. You get the middle bed."
"Uh, thanks. I'm R—"
"Selene," Riss finished. "We know."
I stared. "Is this normal? For people to just know everything about each other?"
"Only when the Academy whispers your name," Illyra said calmly. "You're not the first mystery to walk these halls. But you're the first Moonborn in decades. People talk."
I dropped my bag on the bed.
The sheets were soft as mist. The pillow exhaled the faint scent of night-blooming flowers.
Riss plopped beside me. "So. What powers do you have? Can you shift? Do you see dead people? Hear trees? Summon stars?"
I blinked. "None of those."
Yet, Aerie whispered.
Illyra snapped her book shut. "Give her space, Riss. The change will come when it's ready."
I wasn't sure what change they meant. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
That night, I sat by the round window while my roommates slept. Outside, the academy shimmered like a dream made real. The towers, the floating bridges, the occasional burst of light from the training field far below.
I couldn't sleep.
Not with what I'd seen.
That shadow.
It hadn't been a trick.
It had been real.
"Aerie," I whispered, pressing my palm to the window. "What was that thing in the mirror?"
...
But he didn't answer.
He was gone.
I spun.
The room was dark. Too dark. The crystals above the beds had gone out. Even the moonlight had vanished.
Then I saw it.
A shimmer in the far wall. A seam where there hadn't been one.
I crept forward, breath shallow, and touched it.
The wall rippled.
Then opened.
Beyond it was a staircase that spiraled down into blackness.
And from far, far below—
—I heard my name.
Not Selene.
Not Rory.
Something older.
Calling me home.