The storm broke over Jericho like an omen. Dark clouds smothered the spires of "Nevermore Academy", thunder rolling low across the forest. Students gathered in corridors, faces pressed to the rain-streaked windows. Word had spread already—another new student had arrived.
Transfers weren't rare, but this one carried whispers. His parents had once studied here. His name alone unsettled some of the faculty.
The iron gates creaked open. A carriage, black as obsidian, rolled through. From it stepped a boy—tall, but carrying himself without confidence. His hair fell over his eyes, his bag nearly slipping from his shoulder. He tripped on the first stone step, catching himself with an awkward stumble.
"Sid Edward."
Most of the students snickered quietly. He looked clumsy, unthreatening. But others frowned, feeling something in the air bend around him—a heaviness, invisible yet undeniable.
Inside his sleeve, scales shifted. A voice hissed softly against his skin.
"Calm yourself, Sid. They smell weakness. Don't give it to them."
The serpent, Ryuchi, curled tighter against his arm.
At the top of the steps, "Principal Barry Dort"waited. His tone was clipped, formal. "Sid Edward. You're late. But you will find Nevermore… has a place for everyone. Even those with difficult legacies."
Sid bowed his head, mumbling, "Yes, sir."
The other students expected him to be led to the usual dormitories. Instead, Dort gestured to the far tower—an old wing sealed for decades, its windows like hollow eyes.
"You'll stay there. The North Spire dormitory. It's unused, but you… may find the solitude beneficial. Others are not permitted there. Do not question my decision."
Murmurs broke out among the watching crowd. No one had ever been placed there. Sid didn't protest.
The storm did not pass quickly. It lingered, pressing down on Nevermore like an iron shroud. The lightning painted the old stone walls white for brief moments, then left everything in heavy shadow. Sid Edward felt each rumble of thunder echo in his chest as he carried his bag up the winding stairs of the "North Spire".
The staircase was narrow, dust swirling with every step. No footsteps but his own echoed there. By the third landing, his legs burned, his clumsiness almost sending him tumbling down more than once. He muttered curses under his breath, gripping the railing until splinters dug into his palm.
"Pathetic," Ryuchi hissed softly from beneath his sleeve. "You should walk with your head high, like your mother. Not like a boy dragged by the storm."
Sid glanced down at the serpent's pale scales. "You always compare me to her," he whispered. "But I'm not Marry Eve."
"No. Not yet."
The serpent's voice carried the kind of weight that pressed against Sid's ribs. He quickened his pace.
At last, they reached the top. The door groaned open to a room untouched by time. Dust lay thick on the floor, cobwebs hanging like banners from the beams. But it was spacious, larger than any of the normal dormitories. A bed carved from dark wood leaned against the wall, a desk stood beneath a narrow window, and heavy balcony doors faced the storm.
Sid dropped his bag, coughing into the stale air. He wiped his hands on his shirt, then began unpacking.
The first object he placed was the "Ryuzen" Book. The moment it touched the desk, the dust recoiled, as though it feared the relic. Its cover shimmered faintly, runes crawling across its surface like living veins. To any other eye, it would appear blank, heavy, maybe even ordinary. But Sid knew better. This book carried the entire history of everything it had touched. It spoke when he opened it, whispered truths, bled secrets.
Second was "Ryuchi". The serpent slid down his arm and coiled upon the bedpost, scales glowing faintly in the candlelight. Its golden eyes gleamed, unblinking.
And finally, the "Ryuken"sword.Sid set it carefully in the corner, still wrapped in black cloth. Even so, he could feel its hum in the air, like a predator breathing in its sleep. The urge to touch it was there, always, but he resisted. Ryuken was a last resort. His burden, not his weapon.
Sid collapsed into the chair by the desk, exhaling. The storm raged beyond the balcony, but silence ruled the room. For a moment, he let himself feel it—the loneliness of the North Spire. He had been placed apart from everyone else, and though part of him welcomed the solitude, another part ached.
The storm rattled the spire windows, thunder clawing at the sky. Sid pushed open the heavy balcony doors, letting the rain-soaked wind blast into the forbidden dorm. The night was alive with lightning, painting Nevermore in stark flashes of silver and black.
From his high vantage point in the "North Spire", he saw the rest of the school laid out below like a chessboard of stone towers and courtyards. But one place drew his eyes immediately.
Across the courtyard, far away in the opposite tower, two figures stepped onto their balcony. Their dorm's light glowed against the storm.
Even at that distance, Sid recognized "Enid Sinclair" — all brightness and color even in the chaos of the storm. She leaned far over the railing, cupping her hands around her mouth to shout something across. The words scattered in the wind, fragments of cheerful noise that barely reached him.
Beside her stood "Wednesday Addams". Unmoving. Her black dress clung to her in the wind, her pale face sharp and cold in the lightning. She didn't wave. She didn't call. She only watched. Her dark eyes locked on Sid's balcony, as though the storm itself couldn't pull her gaze away.
Sid gripped the railing, the serpent Ryuchi coiling tighter around his wrist.
"She sees you," the serpent hissed. "Even from across the storm, she sees more than most ever will."
Sid didn't answer. He felt something in that look — an assessment, a weighing. It was not friendliness. It was not hostility. It was curiosity, sharpened like a blade.
Enid tried again, shouting something like "Hey, new guy!" but her voice broke against the thunder. She waved both arms, but the distance made her gesture look small, like the flapping of a bird.
Sid did not wave back. He simply stood there, letting the storm whip his hair, the "Ryuzen" Book pressed against his chest.
And below, in the courtyard shadows where the rain ran like rivers, a flicker appeared. A shape. A girl.
"Agnes DeMille."
Her invisibility faltered, body half-shimmering, half-exposed in the stormlight. She cursed under her breath, clutching her arms. But when her eyes rose and found Sid silhouetted on the balcony, her fear paused. For a heartbeat, she forgot her trembling power. She forgot the storm.
Sid Edward. The strange boy in the forbidden dorm. The one everyone whispered about already. Something about him drew her like gravity.
She stayed in the shadows, hidden as best she could, watching him as he unknowingly became the first page in her story.
The rain softened into a whisper by midnight, leaving only the sound of dripping water and the restless wind. Sid sat at his desk, a single candle lighting the room. Its flame wavered as if afraid of the darkness it was meant to fight.
He opened the "Ryuzen"Book , and the blank pages rippled like water touched by invisible hands. Slowly, letters surfaced—ancient, black as ink drawn from shadows. The book never spoke aloud, yet Sid could hear it. Each word pressed directly into his thoughts.
"Welcome back, child of Eve."
Sid frowned. "You always say that."
The serpent "Ryuchi" uncoiled from the chair's leg, gliding onto the desk. Its scales shimmered white-blue beneath the candlelight.
"The book remembers blood, not faces," it murmured. "And your mother left her blood in its spine."
Sid's fingers brushed the text. "She was a student here too… and somehow, she hid all this from them."
"No," hissed Ryuchi. "She protected them. Black Magic is not evil—it is eternal. Creation, destruction, healing, rebirth… only fools called it forbidden."
Sid leaned back, staring at the sword wrapped in cloth in the corner—"Ryuken". The stormlight made the cloth glisten faintly, as though something beneath it pulsed. "Then why do I feel like it wants to devour me?"
The serpent gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Because it remembers what you do not."
Thunder rolled again, distant now, but heavy enough to shake dust from the beams above. Sid turned to the balcony. Across the courtyard, a single window still glowed faintly. Wednesday's room.
He could just make out a silhouette framed in dim light—still, small, precise. Maybe she wasn't looking at him now, but her presence lingered in the air like a silent challenge. Sid felt it pull at him, the way a storm pulls at the sea.
He whispered to no one, "Why does it feel like she's reading me?"
Ryuchi tilted its head. "Because she is. That girl is made of questions. But be careful, Sid—some eyes can see what even magic hides."
Sid smiled faintly, exhausted. "I'll deal with her tomorrow."
But sleep didn't come easily. When he finally closed his eyes, he dreamed of a white serpent coiled around Nevermore, whispering words he couldn't understand, while a girl in black watched from afar with a dagger-shaped smile.
At the same time, in the lower dormitory across the courtyard, "Agnes DeMille"lay awake. Rain slid down her window like tears she couldn't shed.
She turned invisible and visible again—each flicker a reminder of her failure to control it. Her teachers called it "instability." She called it fear.
When she closed her eyes, she saw him—the boy in the forbidden spire. The one with eyes like midnight ink. She didn't know why she'd followed him through the storm earlier, or why her heart had raced when she saw the serpent on his arm.
Something about him felt… wrong. But beautiful.
Her fingers tightened around her bedsheet. "Sid Edward," she whispered to the night. The name itself felt like a curse and a promise.
Lightning flashed, and her reflection vanished again—half there, half not.
And somewhere far above, in the North Spire, the Ryuzen Book turned its own page on its own. The words that formed there glowed faintly:
> "The storm brings three together.
> One sees the dark.
> One fears it.
> One was born from it."
The candle went out.
The sun rose pale and cold, pushing the last of the storm away. Nevermore Academy shimmered under a thin mist, its stone towers dripping with rain, the forest beyond cloaked in silver fog.
From the highest room of the North Spire, Sid stood before the mirror, trying to make his hair obey gravity. It refused.
He sighed. "Great. First day, and I already look like a sleep-deprived crow."
Ryuchi slithered lazily around his shoulders, scales reflecting light like frost.
"You look like a scholar, not a fighter. That is good. They will underestimate you."
Sid fastened his shirt collar, grabbed his bag, and paused at the desk. The Ryuzen Book rested there, silent. He hesitated, then tucked it carefully under his arm. Its weight was more than physical; it pulsed faintly, alive.
The hallways outside were quiet—too quiet. Dust motes danced in the sunlight. No other students lived in this part of the spire; the air itself seemed to hold its breath. Sid descended the long staircase, the echo of his steps fading into the hum of waking life below.
When he reached the main floor, the atmosphere changed entirely. Nevermore was alive again—students filling corridors, laughter and chatter echoing through the halls, the scent of coffee and old wood mingling in the air.
Sid felt the familiar awkward weight of being "the new kid." His calm eyes darted around, observing everything—the gargoyle statues, the shimmering stained glass, the feeling that this school itself was watching.
A loud voice broke through the noise.
"Mr. Edward, I presume?"
Sid turned.
At the end of the hall stood Principal Barry Dort—a tall man in his forties with sharp glasses, a posture too straight, and a kind of seriousness that could silence an entire crowd without a word. His coat was long, dark blue, perfectly pressed.
"Yes, sir," Sid replied quickly.
Principal Dort studied him for a long moment, his eyes lingering on the serpent coiled around Sid's wrist. Ryuchi froze, unmoving.
"You'll find Nevermore to be… accommodating," Dort said carefully. "Even for students with unusual companions. But remember—rules exist for a reason."
"Yes, sir," Sid repeated.
"Good. Your placement in the North Spire is temporary. You're there because of a housing shortage—"
Sid almost smiled. That was a lie, and they both knew it.
"—but I expect you to keep to yourself. No wandering the restricted grounds, no unsanctioned spellwork. Understood?"
"Understood."
Principal Dort's gaze softened slightly. "You're marry's son, aren't you?"
Sid's hand tightened on his bag. "…You knew her?"
"Everyone did," Dort said, turning to leave. "Marry Eve was brilliant. And dangerous. Try not to follow both paths."
He left before Sid could reply.
Sid exhaled, pulse racing. "They remember her."
The bell rang.
Sid made his way toward his first class—Alchemy of Shadow and Flame, taught by Professor Morton. Students whispered as he entered. His name had already spread faster than truth.
"Is that him?" someone murmured.
"The boy in the forbidden tower?"
"I heard his dorm is haunted."
Sid ignored them, taking the seat at the back. Ryuchi hid beneath his sleeve, its faint hiss audible only to him.
"They smell fear. You smell curiosity. Dangerous mix."
Then, the door opened again.
Wednesday Addams entered, her presence turning heads as always. Cold, composed, expression unreadable. Behind her, Enid Sinclair bounced cheerfully, colors bright against the gray morning.
Wednesday's eyes scanned the class—until they found him. Sid felt the air tighten for a second.
She didn't say a word. She just walked past, took her seat two rows ahead, and began unpacking her books. But Sid noticed something strange: she carried a vial of black mist at her desk—part of her latest investigation, perhaps—and it flickered slightly when he passed.
Then came "Agnes"—quiet, nervous, clutching her notebook to her chest. Her eyes darted between the teacher, Wednesday… and finally, Sid. When their eyes met for the first time, she froze. Her power flickered again—her body blurring faintly, then snapping back.
Sid blinked. He noticed—but didn't react. She turned red instantly, gripping her seat as if to anchor herself.
Professor Morton cleared his throat. "Settle down, everyone. Today, we begin with elemental resonance. Those with unstable energy, please refrain from—"
He didn't finish. The candle at the center of his desk suddenly flared bright blue, nearly exploding. Gasps filled the room.
Morton spun toward the class. "Who did that?!"
Every eye turned toward Sid.
But Sid just stared at the candle, the faint glow of the Ryuzen Book visible through his bag. His expression didn't change. The flame dimmed instantly, back to normal.
Professor Morton frowned but said nothing. Wednesday's gaze lingered longer this time. And Agnes, from the far row, couldn't decide whether to be scared… or amazed.
The rest of the class passed in tense silence.
By the time the bell rang, Sid was already packing up. As he slung his bag over his shoulder, Enid called out cheerfully, "Hey, North Tower guy! You eat with us today!"
Sid looked up. "I—uh—"
Before he could finish, Wednesday stood up and walked past him, coldly muttering, "He doesn't look like the social type."
Sid smirked faintly. "Neither do you."
For the first time, Wednesday stopped mid-step—her eyes narrowing. Enid's jaw dropped. Agnes, across the room, felt her heart skip.
Professor Morton's voice broke the silence. "Dismissed!"
Sid walked out, leaving a low hum of whispers behind him.
And as he passed the hall window, he caught his reflection beside the faint image of Ryuchi. The serpent's voice whispered:
"You have drawn three gazes, Sid Edward. None will let you go easily."