The sky above the academy hung heavy and gray, thick with clouds as though reflecting the grim fate that awaited her.
The academy's grand gates—black steel laced with enchantments—creaked open with solemn weight.
In the courtyard, students gathered. Not because they were ordered, but because curiosity had pulled them there.
Everyone wanted to see the moment.
The moment of her fall.
Selina moved slowly along the long stone path, the academy's black cloak dragging across her shoulders. Once it had been a badge of honor. Now it felt like a burden.
Every step rang louder in her chest than on the stones beneath her.
The Grand Hall of the Elite Academy buzzed like a hive.
The elite students—rarely gathered all at once—were here today, witnesses to a trial the academy had never seen before.
At the center of the hall, beneath the glittering crystals that lit the domed ceiling, Selina stood alone.
Every eye fixed on her—some sharp as blades, some clouded with confusion, others wavering in hesitation.
Whispers spread like sparks in the air.
One boy, often her rival, sneered:
"I always knew it. She never got this far on talent—only through trickery."
Scattered laughter followed.
But another girl cut in sharply:
"Don't be ridiculous… Whatever our differences, nobody can deny she's the hardest worker among us. This accusation is bigger than student rivalry."
A few heads nodded, reluctant but touched by her words.
Selina held herself steady, though fire roared in her chest.
She heard their whispers but refused to bow to them.
The banners along the walls shimmered under the crystal lights. Tonight, however, they carried no glory—only dread.
The Headmaster entered, old and imposing, with several professors at his side. His presence alone silenced the hall.
Moments stretched thick with tension, broken only by murmurs from the towering seats.
Hundreds of eyes locked on Selina, standing solitary on the platform.
The Headmaster's voice cut the air like ice:
"Selina Ashfall… You are accused of stealing the secret manuscript from the academy's vault. Traces of magic left behind match your own power exactly."
The professors sat unmoving, their faces carved from stone. They offered no opinions aloud, yet the weight of their fleeting glances was harsher than any spoken judgment.
Whispers surged again.
"I knew it! Finally exposed."
"She doesn't deserve to be here at all."
"Come on—it's only an accusation, that doesn't make her guilty."
A boy raised his hand timidly.
"Headmaster… forgive me, but couldn't there be hidden hands behind this? The manuscript isn't left unguarded. Breaking into the vault isn't something even a professor could do easily."
It was the question simmering in many minds.
But a professor slammed his palm on the table.
"No empty excuses! The evidence is clear. Everyone here knows a magical imprint cannot be forged."
The boy tried again:
"But what if—"
The Headmaster silenced him with a single gesture.
The hall fell quiet, tension burning like embers under ash.
His cold eyes locked on Selina.
"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
This was the moment they had all waited for.
The urge to speak nearly tore her apart—to shout, to declare her innocence.
But words would change nothing.
She knew the accusation had not been conjured in a moment. It had been planned, crafted carefully.
If she spoke now, every word would sound like desperate denial.
She raised her eyes to the sea of faces staring at her.
Every sentence she might say froze on her tongue.
So she clenched her fists and chose silence as her last defense.
Murmurs rippled, questioning her quiet, her refusal to fight.
The Headmaster raised his hand, and silence fell again.
Then, with unnerving calm, he declared:
"By the council's decision… Selina Ashfall is expelled from the Elite Academy.
All honors revoked. She is forbidden from ever setting foot on academy grounds again."
His words landed like boulders on her chest.
In a single moment, all her glory, her struggle, her years of relentless effort—shattered.
She drew a heavy breath, scanning their faces one by one.
She memorized each expression: those who rejoiced, those who faltered, those who avoided her gaze.
And under her breath, too soft for any ear but her own, she whispered:
"If this is what it means to fall… then so be it."
When the so-called trial ended and the hall emptied, Selina walked out as well.
Her steps were steady, her face composed—
a mask hiding the storm within.
She carried nothing but a small bag of essentials… and her sword.
Students had gathered outside, eager to watch her leave. She ignored them, striding toward the gates.
Waiting there was Isaac—her closest, and only, friend.
The same boy who had dared to speak out.
As soon as she reached him, he pulled her into a firm embrace.
"I swear this whole thing is nonsense. The verdict is even worse."
She gave him a faint smile at his bluntness.
"No need to say it aloud. We both know, and that's enough. Careful, or you might find yourself outside these walls tomorrow."
At the edge of the crowd, two figures watched.
Maria—one of her fiercest rivals—and her companion.
Maria leaned close, whispering:
"It's a farce, isn't it? A manuscript like that… no student could steal it so easily."
Her friend hissed back:
"Don't defend her. You hate her more than anyone."
Maria smirked coldly.
"Exactly. And that's why I know—she's not that foolish. Dark, yes. But never stupid."
She stepped forward, approaching Selina, who was still speaking with Isaac.
Maria's voice dripped with mockery:
"I feel sad. Who's going to push me to train harder now that you're gone, Selina? Whatever shall I do?"
Selina looked at her calmly.
"That's simple, Maria—don't feel anything."
Isaac burst into laughter, and even Maria cracked a smile.
"Seriously? I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I'll miss you, rival. May you have the worst luck out there—you'll need it."
Selina smirked in return.
"And the worst luck to you, too. Sorry to say, Maria, but I'll sweep you away even without an academy."
Isaac laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.
Even after all their years together, he had never gotten used to their strange brand of banter.
They walked together until they neared the gates.
Selina stepped away from them, approaching the enchanted guards who stood waiting. They bowed slightly—not out of respect, but as part of procedure.
One of them raised his hand and murmured the final incantation. The golden insignia on her cloak—the emblem of her belonging to the academy—ignited.
The symbol crumbled into ash, falling into her hands.
She stared at it for a heartbeat… then let the ashes scatter with the wind.
At last, she stepped through the gates.
The sound of them closing behind her rang like a final verdict—a wall sealing off her past, all she had known… and the unknown future waiting beyond.
She lifted her gaze to the road ahead, the distant forest looming at the horizon.
Inside, she whispered to herself:
"I will not return as a student…"
And she walked on.
Alone.
But not broken.