Chapter Three – The Headmaster's Warning
The Headmaster's office was on the top floor. The lift required a fingerprint, and I was only allowed in after the orb on my wrist flashed green. A staff escort walked beside me in silence. The hallway was wider here, colder too. The walls were pure black, lit with faint gold symbols that shifted like shadows.
Everything about this floor felt... different. Heavier. Like the air had memory.
We stopped at a wide door. It was tall and smooth, no handles, no hinges. Just a surface that shimmered faintly. It opened without a sound when I stepped closer.
Inside was quiet. Not silent—but quiet in a deep, heavy way. Like the walls were thinking.
The office was round and high-ceilinged. Bookshelves lined one half, filled with thick volumes wrapped in silver thread and sealed with wax. The other half was pure glass—only, there was no view. The window displayed spinning constellations instead of sky. Floating stars circled slowly, as if locked in their own orbit.
In the center of the room stood a wide silver desk. Behind it, the Headmaster.
He was older than I expected. Not hunched or fragile, though—his back was straight, his jaw square, and his robe shimmered like armor. The material was black with glowing runes stitched into every seam. His white hair was combed back tightly, and his pale blue eyes held no warmth.
He didn't smile.
"Scarlet Stormborne. Sit."
I sat.
He didn't speak immediately. Just studied me with an unreadable expression before tapping twice on the surface of his desk. A floating projection blinked into life above it. My rune tablet, cracked from earlier, rotated in slow motion.
"This rune shouldn't have activated," he said finally.
"I didn't mean to. It just lit up when I touched it."
He tapped again. Another projection appeared beside the rune image. This one showed a long string of data. My name. Date of birth. ID number. Then the last line:
DNA Match: Not Found.
The words glowed red.
I leaned forward slowly. "What... does that mean?"
"It means your DNA doesn't match any known record. Not wolf, not elemental, not sorcerer. Not even human. According to the system, you don't exist."
My stomach dropped. "But that's not possible. Everyone has something."
"Exactly."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers pressed together. "Normally, students' scans tie them to a rank, bloodline, or heritage. Yours is blank. It's not even blocked or falsified. It's just... empty."
I stared at the image. My name hovered above a long chain of blinking question marks.
"So what does that make me?"
"An anomaly. A question with no answer."
"And that scares people?"
"It confuses them first," he corrected. "Then, yes. It scares them."
He stood and crossed to the wall of constellations. His hands clasped behind him, his reflection flickering across the stars.
"This academy was built to house and shape the bloodlines of power. Every student here belongs to something. A family. A species. A bond. You? You are unreadable."
I rubbed my palms together beneath the desk.
"That doesn't mean I'm dangerous."
He looked over his shoulder. "It doesn't mean you're not."
I felt a cold knot twist in my chest.
"I didn't ask to be like this. I didn't even know I was—whatever this is."
"And that makes it worse," he said calmly. "Power that doesn't know itself is often the most destructive."
"I don't have power. I've never had any. I'm just... weird."
He raised an eyebrow. "The rune tablet you shattered with your touch would disagree."
I flinched.
"What was that rune anyway?"
He hesitated. Then, quietly: "A royal sequence. One that hasn't been used in over a hundred years. Not even taught anymore. And certainly not programmed into basic student tablets."
My skin prickled. "So why was it there?"
"It wasn't. You didn't find it. You unlocked it."
He turned fully now. "That kind of reaction can't be faked. And our tech doesn't make mistakes."
I tried to speak, but my voice caught.
"You said the system only responds to bloodlines. So mine is just... missing?"
"Blank," he said. "Like someone scrubbed you out. Or like the system wasn't built to read what you are."
The room felt colder. The stars in the glass behind him spun a little faster.
"What do I do now?"
"You stay calm. You stay quiet. You don't use runes again—not without supervision."
"And if something else happens?"
He gave me a steady look.
"If the air shifts. If the walls listen. If a name whispers into your mind—ignore it."
I frowned. "What name?"
He spoke slowly. "Drakora."
The word hit like a drop of ice down my spine.
"What does it mean?"
He didn't answer.
"You're dismissed, Stormborne. Keep your head down. For now."
I stood up slowly. My heart was racing, my thoughts scattered. As I turned to leave, I glanced back once.
The projection above his desk had changed.
My profile was still there. But now, flashing in red:
Scan Incomplete. Unknown Type.
And
underneath that:
Monitored.
The door opened on its own as I approached.
The hallway outside felt even colder than before.