As dawn broke, Elaine found herself standing in front of a full-length mirror. She was dressed in her new Glyph student uniform, a masterfully tailored ensemble. The navy blazer, fitted and sharp, contrasted elegantly with the crisp, long-sleeved white shirt beneath it, and its lapels bore subtle embroidery that glinted softly in the morning light streaming through her window. Her skirt, which fell delicately to just above her knees, was made from a fine, flowing fabric that swayed gently with her movements. Draped over her left shoulder, a luxurious cape added a dramatic flair to her appearance, its deep hue complementing the overall color scheme. She completed her look with knee-high stockings that hugged her legs snugly, and instead of her usual clunky boots, she opted for the academy's sleek black leather shoes.

  Slowly, Elaine studied her reflection with a frown creasing her brow. She gave an uncertain twirl, the skirt flaring out briefly before settling back against her thighs. Attempting a curtsy, she lifted the hemline with her fingers, but the movement felt clumsy and unnatural, as if she were an imposter in this noble attire. She couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness that crept in as she traced the patterns embroidered into her blazer. This halting mime of elegance felt foreign to her, and an uneasy knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. Would she ever feel truly comfortable in this embellished uniform?

  The uniform enveloped her in an unfamiliar fabric, a far howl from the clothes she usually favored. The material was stiff and scratchy against her skin like a suit of armor rather than clothing, and every movement felt like an uphill battle. As she attempted to raise her arms, the fabric tugged uncomfortably at her shoulders, and when she twisted her waist, she could barely manage a feeble turn. Fear and embarrassment washed over her as she imagined the consequences of a tear—would she be held accountable for repairs to such an expensive garment?

  "Wow, you look great," Fearne exclaimed. Elaine glanced over her shoulder and saw her roommate standing near Gulp the veladora snaptrapper. The uniform looked nice on her, and most importantly, it fit.

  "I don't know," Elaine said, arms stretched before her. "I'll need to have a chat with the front desk. These clothes, they don't quite...match my size."

  Fearne strode over to her, laughing. "That's because you haven't said the magic words, silly."

  Elaine cocked her head. "Magic words? What magic words?"

  "Repeat after me, Elaine," Fearne said, holding a finger. "Stytus Ripare."

  Elaine nodded, looking herself in the mirror again as she recited, "Stytus Ripare."

  Without warning, her uniform began to shift as if possessing a mind of its own. The fabric of her dress softened and draped more loosely around her frame. The sleeves of her shirt elongated, cascading down her arms like gentle waves, while the waistline of her skirt subtly swelled. Each movement felt like a silent transformation, as the once-familiar contours of her outfit morphed into something entirely different, leaving her both intrigued and bewildered. "Now, how does it feel?"

  "Better," Elaine replied, smiling. "A lot better, actually."

  "I bet. These uniforms are enchanted to fit their wearer, no matter their size. It would seem as if Glyph spared no expense."

  Gulp started grumbling—sounding similar to Milo whenever the mutt was hungry—and Fearne hastened for it, carrying a sheet of paper she'd pulled out of her skirt's pocket. A schedule? "Let's see," she said. "We should probably make for breakfast soon. We're expected to report to our respective homerooms at 8:30."

  "Homeroom?" She recalled Raze mentioning her homeroom on their way to the dormitories. Regrettably, she hadn't paid much attention to whatever he'd been muttering. Although, in her defense, she had been overwhelmed at the time, and when she hadn't been gawking at the academy castle, she'd been struggling to ignore her growing drowsiness. "Homeroom Class No. 7," Elaine remembered out loud. "That's where I'm meant to be...I think..."

  "You think?" Fearne asked. The girl had crouched to the floor and pulled out a tiny bag of...dead mice. She held one of the petrified, cold rodents by the tail before tossing it at Gulp. The glutinous plant opened its maw and swallowed its meal, licking its bloated lips happily.

  "It's a long story," Elaine sighed. "By the way, which homeroom are you in?"

  "The same as yours, as a matter of fact," Fearne replied, spinning to meet her with a grin.

  "Great! We can go together," Elaine exclaimed. Praise be to Aeris, we can go together. Hopefully, Fearne knew where precisely that was. She would need to depend on her roommate's directions until she caught her bearings.

  Five more minutes passed, and the two were off. Fearne exited first, giving Gulp a thorough lecture before she did so. Although Elaine couldn't hear the entire conversation, she picked up on a few words, including "behave" and "blood." The context of their discussion remained a mystery, and she held no interest in speculating about what it pertained to.

  Elaine sat perched on her bed, the soft mattress sinking beneath the weight of her lithe frame. She arranged her pens and pencils, sheets of paper, and a duo of miniature booklets, all of which were to be housed in her satchel. She was keenly aware that first impressions were paramount, and she couldn't risk tarnishing her reputation by forgetting to bring a writing utensil on the first day of classes. She adjusted the wand holster strapped to her waist; its unusual angle made her feel like it might slip out, and she knew it would take some getting used to.

  Elaine paused, her heart swelling as she glanced back at the portrait resting on the side table next to her sofa. The frame, slightly worn at the corners, held a cherished moment from a time when laughter came effortlessly. With a tender gesture, she kissed her fingers softly and brushed them against the glass, as if trying to coax the memories back to life. In the portrait, Ellend, full of youthful exuberance, was caught in a playful armlock by Liam, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Elaine stood beside them, her face lit up with joy, pointing at the boys while her laughter rang out—an almost palpable sound. On either side stood her parents: her mother, radiating warmth in her country dress, and her father, attempting a smile that seemed more forced than genuine. Milo lay sprawled and yawning at their feet, his ears flopping lazily.

  The image represented not just a frozen moment but a portal to a more straightforward and infinitely brighter time in her life, one that Elaine often longed to revisit, even if just for a fleeting second. With a small exhale, she let the memories flood her before finally turning to join Fearne, who stood patiently by the doorway. Elaine nodded at the photo, resolute. I'll make you proud; just wait. Strapping her satchel over her shoulder, she strode out of the room, the door materializing back into the frame behind her.

  *

  * *

  After breakfast, which for Elaine consisted of a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, a pair of muffins, and some gownberries—followed by a brief stomachache—she and Fearne were faced with a new predicament. Although Fearne had been on campus longer than Elaine, she wasn't aware of where they needed to go. The campus was like a surging labyrinth, with endless hallways leading to nowhere and countless identical wooden doors spanning either side, each with a room number inscribed above it.

  The scene was chaotic, with herds of students marching in different directions. Elaine attempted to strike up a conversation with a few of them, but none seemed interested in sparing her a moment. She noticed that some of the students were wearing shoulder capes of different colors than her own, which were blue. A boy who marched past her donned a red cape, while two girls who were entering a classroom together had on matching yellow capes. Elaine also noticed several glares and sly nods directed toward them as they traversed the halls. It seemed that some of the more privileged individuals could quickly identify a commoner with just a passing glance. Elaine furrowed her brow at the thought of dealing with such prejudice. However, she took a deep breath and pushed aside her frustration. Don't react, that's what they're waiting for, Elaine reminded herself, diffusing a worn-out sigh.

  "Hmm, perhaps this way?" Fearne said out loud.

  Currently, they were on the third story of a castle possessing more than five. Nothing stood out about this hallway that differentiated it from the others. But the fact that Elaine couldn't spot as many students—three or five drifted in various directions—as she could on the other floors made her mouth twist. This could mean one of two outcomes: The first was that they were more lost than she initially suspected, and the second was that classes had already started without them. What time was it? There weren't any windows nearby, so she couldn't check the sun. And where had the rest of the students disappeared to? Where were the professors?

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Maybe we should try asking the front desk?" Elaine suggested.

  Fearne frowned. "No, we're already late enough as is."

  "I'd rather be late than not show up at all."

  "I suppose..." She sighed as she leaned a shoulder against a wall. "This is my fault. I should have paid more attention during Orientation."

  "Did they explain the layout of the campus then?"

  "No, not that I recall," Fearne replied softly. "But it's apparent that everyone else besides us was already informed of where they needed to be."

  As unsettled as he made her, Elaine longed for Raze's guidance. She'd weather his ferocious scowl if he could guide her to homeroom before roll call. Elaine trailed after Fearne as she strode ahead. The poor girl's face was etched with worry, deflating in on herself as she came to a halt in the middle of an empty hallway. Her shoulders slumped, and she glared at the floor. Perhaps only now did she realize just how lost they were. Yeah, we definitely need to go to the front desk, Elaine thought, smiling in defeat. Wait, where was it again? Wasn't it by the—

  A Pulse.

  Suddenly, a strange pulsation throbbed at the back of Elaine's mind, a subtle yet persistent sensation that made her miss whatever Fearne had been saying. She instinctively covered her temple with her palm, her fingers pressing hard against her skin as she scrunched her face into a strained grimace, trying to will the encroaching discomfort away. It felt as if an unseen force was tugging at her consciousness, trying to pull her into the shadows that seemed to dance at the corners of her vision. Overwhelmed by the eerie sensation, Elaine let out a low groan, her instincts kicking in as she spun around, desperate for clarity.

  At the end of the hallway, he stood there—Custas—his figure relaxed with hands casually shoved into the pockets of his pants. His uniform consisted of a blazer—much like her own—and a pair of straight, gray-colored pants. A red tie hung from the collar of the long-sleeved white shirt he wore underneath the blaze, though the knot wasn't as neatly made as it could have been. All in all, the uniform looked nice on him. At least, she thought it did. “Custas?” Elaine called out, tilting her head slightly, a mixture of relief and confusion swirling within her.

  "The one and only," he joked, his leather shoes tapping on the stone floor as he advanced to them. "Man, is it just me, or is the food here, not all that it's cracked up to be? I've had better grub from street vendors. I suppose I'm just not accustomed to a goldblood's exquisite palette."

  "Custas," Fearne exclaimed, making for him in a hurry. "Not to sound desperate, but we're sort of lost."

  "Hmm? Lost?"

  A blush warmed her friend's face. "We're trying to get to Homeroom Class 7. It's just that we haven't a clue where that could be."

  "Seven, you say? Ah, you're in luck. That happens to be my homeroom as well." He swung both his arms behind his head, painting his previous puzzled expression with an accomplished, almost arrogant smile. "Yup, my instincts have yet to fail me. If it's Classroom 7 you're looking for, please allow me to show you the way."

  "You know where it is?" Elaine asked, hopeful.

  "Of course I do," he cheerfully replied. "I mean, you'd have to be a special kind of sulmo to start a semester without first having...uh..." Custas trailed off as he noticed her fake a chuckle, and Fearne repeatedly stroked her ponytail in embarrassment. "Never mind that," he grinned, shamefaced. "Come on, if time is on our side, we should make it there before roll call starts."

  *

  * *

  They were lost. Again.

  Custas appeared to be a well-meaning person, but Elaine couldn’t shake her nagging doubt about his sense of direction. As they strolled through vacant, identical corridors, he confidently led them inside a classroom, only for them to quickly realize they were in the wrong place. To their astonishment, the room was not empty; instead, it was filled with towering humanoid puppets, each looming an imposing nine feet tall. Their lifelike features were exaggerated, with painted expressions frozen in mid-action, making them all the more eerie. The figures were arranged haphazardly along the walls of the cramped and shadowy space, causing Fearne to shiver involuntarily with fear as she instinctively grasped Elaine's arm.

  Custas, too, was startled by the unsettling sight, letting out an unexpected yelp that echoed in the confined room as he quickly slammed the door shut behind them. Grinning nervously, he led them next into another unfamiliar space, one that turned out to be just as disorienting—it wasn’t their homeroom class either. This new room had a bizarre quality; the faces integrated into the walls seemed to be a grotesque part of the architecture itself, as if they had been molded directly into the cold, gray bricks. Each face had blank eyes and mouths set permanently into a straight line.

  Suddenly, one of the gray faces closest to the front door shifted its red eyes toward them, breaking the eerie stillness. Then, like a sinister wave, the face next to it followed suit, and then the one after that. A ripple of movement spread across the room as countless eyes began to shift and focus on the newcomers, their gaze heavy and unblinking, capturing the attention of every detached expression within the dimly lit confines. The unsettling sensation of being watched enveloped her, tightening around Elaine's throat as she stood frozen, caught in the disturbing web of the room’s silent observers. The room itself consisted of several rows of seats arranged in descending order towards the base floor. There, she discerned standing by the pulpit a tall and lanky gentleman with long, spindly arms. He wore an orange-colored coat as well as a hat that somewhat resembled the berets performers would wear in Urista.

  He was wearing a mask.

  The man was unsettling, to say the least. The mask he wore was a blank canvas, devoid of expression. Two empty eye sockets stared back at them like dark voids, and where his mouth should have been there was only a gaping hole the size of one's fist. Elaine couldn't help but fixate on this chilling creature, wondering how someone so eerie could possibly hold the title of professor at this academy if, indeed, he was one. The silence stretched out into an almost tangible weight, broken only by the soft, raspy sound of the masked man's breath as he scanned them with a lifeless, methodical gaze that sent chills down Elaine's spine.

  "Sorry," Custas stuttered, slowly shutting the door. "Must have got turned around. Apologies for the intrusion."

  Glyph Academy prided itself on its comprehensive studies and education of magic, but that odd encounter had left Elaine more confused than ever before. As she hurried down the corridor, eager to put as much distance from that classroom as possible, she couldn't help but wonder what the so-called "professor" would be teaching. However, she wouldn't be in any particular rush to return to that classroom.

  "Custas, be honest with me," Fearne grumbled. She was a natural sweetheart, but there was no mistaking that annoyed frown she now brandished—eyes that twitched, teeth grating against each other. "You said you knew where the classroom was. Was that a lie?"

  "N...No! Of course not!" Custas blurted in defense. "I just got...err...mistaken, is all. I mean, can you blame me? This surgin' place is larger than a titan!"

  "Right. What was that you said earlier? You know, something about being a sulmo?"

  "Hey, well, at least we're making progress. Beats wandering aimlessly."

  "How is what you're doing any different from what we were doing? We still have no idea where our homeroom is."

  "Eh, I can tell you for a fact that it's definitely on this floor...I think..."

  "Jeez, you're so helpful."

  "Well, you know," Custas snickered, smudging a finger under his nose, "I try my best."

  "I was being sarcastic..."

  Elaine's attention was drawn away from her bickering friends by a familiar sensation—a Pulse. She scanned her surroundings, and her eyes were caught by a glimmering, blue-colored light. It was a tiny, iridescent apparition, no larger than her hand, hovering in midair with wings flapping like a dragonfly's. The being was humanoid in shape, a small woman with glowing blue skin, a curvy figure, and a mane of flowing hair that fluttered in an unseen breeze. It peered its eyes that sparkled like emeralds, and Elaine then realized what she was looking at. "A fairy," she whispered in awe.

  She shifted her gaze back to her two friends, who were still engaged in a heated argument. What was wrong with them? Why couldn't they see the fairy as she could? Were sightings of fairies common in this part of Incante? She knew that the fae were a secretive and ancient race, only revealing themselves to those they trusted or felt comfortable with. Yet, there was a fairy right in front of her. She couldn't explain why she could see it, but she couldn't deny the thrill of witnessing something so unexpected and magical.

  The fairy giggled in its hands and flew off down the hall. "Wait," Elaine called. "Don't leave."

  Elaine's limbs sprang into action without a conscious thought, propelling her forward in a sprint to chase after the fairy. The Pulse, an enigmatic ringing in her ears, grew loudest in the direction the fairy flew. Couldn't anyone else hear it, or was she just going insane? Abruptly, she slid to a halt as the fairy darted through a partially opened doorway at the end of the empty hall ahead. Elaine observed that the door was unlike any other she had encountered so far in the academy, constructed from a dark stone material in place of wood. Onyx perhaps?

  Elaine approached the door with bated breath, her eyes transfixed on the intricate designs carved into its surface. These were no ordinary markings—they seemed to be a language of their own, one that she couldn't quite comprehend. As she grasped the handle, a shiver ran down her spine. Despite its imposing appearance, the door yielded easily, as if eager to reveal the secrets that lay beyond. Elaine stepped inside, her eyes widening in awe as she surveyed the vast expanse. It was an enormous chamber, easily four hundred square meters in size, spacious enough to accommodate a crowd of over fifty people if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. The air was thick with the heady scent of incense, whilst the walls were adorned with stunning, ancient runes gleaming with an otherworldly turquoise hue that cascaded down to the floor.

  A set of steps led up to a square-shaped platform at the center of the room. It was here that an enormous statue of a woman stood, Elaine having to tilt her head back to meet the statue's eyes held ten feet over her head. Her flaccid dress appeared so genuine that it seemed to sway gently in a fabricated breeze, and her hair flowed to her waist, every strand perfectly molded. Tall and proud, her posture exuded an unyielding resolution, and her expression was a tumultuous mix of emotions, capturing the Essence of her powerful character.

  Elaine suddenly got the sense she wasn't supposed to be there. But the Pulse. It had reached out to her for a reason, had it not?

  "Hey, you! What do you think you're doing!" someone shouted behind her. It was a thunderous and heavy bellow, one that reminded Elaine of the fierce growl of an ogrehound, or the way the wind howled and slammed against shutters during a fierce storm. Startled by the noise, Elaine turned quickly and saw a massive man standing at the entrance, staring at her with an intense gaze. He was like a mountain with his imposing size and overwhelming presence.

  And in a meaty fist, he brandished a wand.