*Selene's words echoed in her mind: *Five powers inside you. Things even you can't comprehend.* The weight of those words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on her chest. She was trying to digest everything—the mystery, the danger, and the undeniable truth that her life had changed forever.
Headmistress Selene walked back to her desk, her heels clicking sharply against the cold stone floor. Her movements were smooth, graceful, but there was something unsettling about the way she observed Elvira, as if she were studying her every reaction.
"Well, that will be all for today," Selene said, her voice cool, commanding. "The figure will show you to your room. Rest. You'll need it."
Elvira blinked, surprised by the sudden dismissal, but she quickly composed herself. She was far from at ease, but she didn't want to appear vulnerable in front of the Headmistress.
The figure who had escorted her to this office earlier—tall, silent, and ominously impassive—motioned for her to follow. Elvira hesitated only for a moment before stepping out of the office. The door closed with a heavy thud behind her, the sound almost final, like the last echo of her old life.
As she walked down the hallway, her eyes roamed the high, darkened windows, the flickering lights casting long, distorted shadows on the walls. Everything about this place was strange, foreign, and unnerving. It felt like the very walls were alive with secrets.
The figure ahead of her didn't speak as they walked in silence, but Elvira's mind was racing. She couldn't get the Headmistress's words out of her head. Five powers. What did that mean? What kind of magic was she even capable of? And more importantly, *why* her? Why had she been chosen for this school?
Her steps faltered when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.
A figure—dark, tall, and imposing—stood at the end of the hallway, his back slightly turned as he leaned against the stone wall. The light from the nearby sconces barely illuminated his face, but Elvira could make out the glint of dark, unruly hair and the slight curl of smoke drifting upward. The scent of tobacco mixed with the cool air of the hallway, sharpening her senses.
He was smoking.
But it wasn't the cigarette that caught her attention—it was *him*. There was something magnetic about his presence. He had an aura of quiet danger, an intensity that seemed to draw her in despite her better judgment.
His eyes flicked toward her for just a moment—his gaze cold, calculating. A flicker of something dark, something unknown, passed between them before he turned his gaze back to the dim hallway. It was brief, but it was enough to make Elvira's heart race.
The figure who had been escorting her took a step, his face hard, but he didn't say anything. He just kept walking, and Elvira followed, her mind swimming with unanswered questions.
Who was that? Why did he make her feel so unsettled? And why did it seem like he was waiting for her?
As the pair turned the corner and left him behind, Elvira tried to shake the unease gnawing at her. The figure didn't seem to notice her lingering thoughts, his focus solely on the path ahead. But Elvira couldn't push the image of the dark-haired stranger out of her mind.
They reached a small, unremarkable door at the end of the hallway. The figure knocked twice, and the door creaked open.
"This is your room," he said flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You'll stay here for the duration of your stay at Mystic Crest. Rest, and prepare for what's to come."
Elvira didn't respond. She didn't trust her voice, and she didn't want to say anything that might show how confused and frightened she really felt.
The door closed behind her with a soft click, and Elvira stood alone in the dimly lit room.
Her room was small, but it had a certain cold elegance. The walls were dark wood, adorned with antique furniture—an old-fashioned vanity, a four-poster bed with heavy curtains that blocked out the light from the outside. The floor was covered in a dark rug, and a single window allowed a faint stream of moonlight to trickle through the blinds.
She walked slowly, almost mechanically, to the center of the room. For a moment, she just stood there, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and dread. The weight of what had just happened—her arrival at Mystic Crest, the terrifying revelations about her powers, the unsettling encounter with the stranger—was too much to bear all at once.
She sank to the floor, her legs buckling beneath her. Her hands trembled as they pressed against her face.
*Why am I here?* she thought, her chest constricting with pain. *Why does it feel like I don't belong?*
Tears started to blur her vision, falling in slow, steady streams down her face. Elvira curled up on the floor, her body trembling as sobs wracked her chest. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care that she was in a strange place, in a school full of people she didn't know. She didn't care about the powers she couldn't control. All she cared about was that she was alone. Alone in a place where no one understood her, no one cared for her. Not like they did for her step-siblings.
Her mother's cold words echoed in her mind—*We are not your family.* The truth of it stung deeper than anything she had experienced before.
*Why can't I be like them?* she thought bitterly, her tears falling faster. *Why can't I be the perfect daughter they wanted? Why is my power so... dangerous?*
And then, out of nowhere, an idea struck her—a realization that made her heart skip a beat. She looked up, her tear-streaked face pale and hollow.
*The guy. The one I saw earlier... he knows something. I feel it.*
Before she could dwell on it further, the door to her room creaked open. Elvira quickly wiped her face, trying to compose herself.
But it wasn't the figure from before. It wasn't the Headmistress. It wasn't even one of the students.
It was *him*.
The dark-haired stranger.
He stepped into the room, the door closing quietly behind him. He didn't say a word. His gaze fixed on her, and Elvira couldn't help but feel her heart race again.
The guy's voice came , low and certain. "You're loud, you know."
Elvira turned sharply.
He wasn't even looking at her — but somehow, she felt *seen*.
"I didn't say anything," she muttered.
He smirked without facing her. "You didn't have to. Your thoughts are screaming."
Her blood ran cold. "What?"
He finally turned, eyes glowing faintly gold, sharp and unreadable.
"I see people," he said softly, stepping closer. "Their minds. Their fears. Their truths. I know what they hide from the world... even from themselves."
He looked her straight in the eye.
"You've always felt small. Broken. Afraid they were right about you. That's why the power scares you."
Elvira's lips parted, breath caught in her throat.
He leaned a little closer, voice smooth and haunting. "But you'll learn. You'll be useful to me eventually."
A flicker of energy pulsed in the air — then vanished.
He turned, walking off without a glance back. "See you in class, Elvira."
She stood frozen.
Useful… to him?
What did that even mean?
And how the hell did he know her name?