3
Alina.
There was a moment after I stepped through the portal when I wasn't sure I had a body at all. Up and down vanished. For a few heartbeats, I felt stretched thin and see-through, like I might dissolve into air. Then I landed, hard, on cold stone, with my knees stinging and my mind scrambling to catch up.
Umbra Noctis was the first real thing I saw. At first, I thought I'd landed in the wrong story. It was too much… too beautiful, too dangerous, too alive. Towers reached for the sky, impossibly tall, their stained glass windows catching the sun and throwing shards of color onto the marble courtyard. Stone gargoyles perched everywhere, and the shadows beneath them looked like they could swallow a person whole. Ivy crawled up every wall but never covered the carved runes that ran in lines across the stone.
The air itself hummed, alive with a charge that felt like standing under a thunderstorm. I tasted it in the back of my throat; strange and sharp, like biting into a copper coin. Even the sky looked more vivid, the kind of blue I'd only ever seen in storybooks. Every sound was louder: the chatter of voices, the slap of boots on stone, the distant howl of something that wasn't quite a wolf. I wanted to stare, but I knew I couldn't look lost.
A cluster of students passed me, all in uniforms that were crisp, elegant and expensive. Most of them didn't look human. One had silver eyes that glowed in the sunlight. Another had pointed ears poking through a tumble of black hair. Someone laughed, and I saw fangs. Real ones.
For a second, I almost turned around and tried to force myself back through the portal. The urge to run was as sharp as a blade against my back, but my feet stayed rooted. I thought about my mother's voice; 'if you mess this up, you'll get us all killed', and forced myself to move.
A woman waited for me at the bottom of the steps. She wore black robes, and her hair was pinned in a knot so severe it looked painful. She glanced at the paper in my hand, barely sparing me a look.
"Elowen?" she said, sharp and efficient.
I swallowed and nodded. "Adrian Elowen." The name felt wrong in my mouth, but she didn't notice. Or care.
"Follow me," she said. "Don't lag behind."
We moved through the grounds at a brutal pace. The buildings got taller, the crowds thicker. I passed a group of girls in blue sashes, their faces too perfect to be real. A boy with antlers. Someone with wings, folded tight against their back. No one looked twice at me, and I realized I was invisible here, too. It was comforting and terrifying at the same time.
The woman led me into the main hall which was a cavernous space that could have swallowed my whole house. High arched ceilings, banners draped in every color, a thousand candles floating above our heads. The walls shifted when I tried to look too hard, runes writhing and fading into new shapes. My head spun. I was still adjusting to the light when she stopped short in front of a desk.
A bored-looking clerk scanned a parchment and handed over a key. "Dorm assignment," he said, not meeting my eye. "You're in Vale, Draven, Thorne; North Tower. Good luck."
It took me a second to realize he'd just listed my new roommates, not places. I clutched the key in my hand, my palm slick with sweat.
The woman marched me up a staircase so winding I lost count of the turns. My chest ached from the binding. Every step felt like a test.
She stopped at a heavy oak door and nodded at the number carved in the frame. "You'll find your uniform and schedule inside. Classes begin at dawn. If you're late, don't bother coming back."
I opened my mouth to thank her, but she was already gone.
The hallway was silent. I waited, letting the echoes fade, and pressed my forehead to the door for a second, just to feel something solid. Then I turned the key and stepped inside.
The room was enormous compared to my old bedroom, but it felt smaller, somehow; like all the air had been sucked out and replaced with the scent of stone, old wood, and something metallic. Three beds, all perfectly made, lined one wall. Heavy curtains blocked out most of the light. A long desk ran beneath the windows, covered in books, quills, and what looked like a wickedly sharp dagger stabbed through a stack of notes.
The silence didn't last long.
Someone cleared his throat behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned, careful not to let my panic show.
Three boys stood in the doorway. Not boys, really. They looked my age, but there was something about them; something hungry, sharp and a little too still. I knew, with the same certainty I knew to flinch from my father's voice, that these were the monsters from my stories.
The first was tall and pale, his hair so dark it looked almost blue in the light. His eyes were cold and unreadable, the kind of gaze that made you want to check your reflection for bruises. He looked at me like I was something unpleasant he'd stepped in.
The second had a wild, restless energy with broad shoulders, callused hands, and a glare that could set fire to dry grass. His eyes were gold, almost wolfish, and he sized me up like he was already imagining how hard he'd have to hit me to make me stay down.
The third lounged against the doorframe, all lazy grace and too-bright eyes. He smiled, but there was a dare in it, the kind that made you check your pockets for missing coins.
No one spoke for a long moment.
Finally, the first one with dark hair and cold eyes, tilted his head. "You're the new human."
It wasn't a question.
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Adrian Elowen."
He didn't offer his name. Instead, he glanced at the others, as if to confirm a suspicion. "Try not to touch anything," he said. "And don't make noise when you breathe."
The wolfish one stepped forward, crowding my space. He looked me up and down, sneering. "You're smaller than I thought. You run slow, too?" His voice had a rough edge, as if every word cost him patience.
I tried to steady my breathing. "I don't run at all."
That got a low, surprised laugh from the fae-looking one. "Careful, Adrian. Kael likes a challenge."
So that was Kael. The name fit him. He looked hard, sharp, just a little bit dangerous. He crossed his arms, muscles straining against his sleeves, and looked at me like I was prey. I forced myself not to step back.
The one at the door, the one with the teasing eyes, grinned wider. "Rowan Thorne," he said, with a little mock bow. "Resident troublemaker, in case the accent didn't give it away."
He looked fae, in the way storybooks described; too pretty, too strange, with a smile that promised nothing good. He looked at me like he already knew what I was hiding, and he was just waiting for the show to start.
The cold one: Lucien, I realized, because I'd heard the name in a hundred whispered warnings, didn't bother to introduce himself. He just moved to the farthest bed, sat, and stared at the window like he'd already forgotten I existed.
Kael stalked past me, dropping his bag onto the bed nearest the door. "Stay out of my way," he said. "Or don't. I don't care."
I made for the last empty bed, closest to the window. I set my trunk down and started unpacking, hands shaking only a little. I could feel their eyes on me, but I kept my head down and pretended not to notice.
Rowan wandered over, leaning against the post at the end of my bed. "First time away from home?" he asked, voice too soft to be innocent.
"First time in a place like this," I said, which was true in every possible way.
He watched me unpack for a minute, as if expecting me to slip up and reveal a secret. I wondered if he could smell my fear. I wondered if he liked it.
Lucien's voice cut through the silence. "You're here to make up the numbers," he said flatly. "Don't get comfortable. Humans don't last."
Kael snorted. "If he dies, I'm not cleaning it up."
I kept my face blank, remembering my mother's advice; don't fidget, don't look down. But it was hard. My chest was tight from the binding, my scalp itched from the dye, and my head spun with exhaustion and nerves. I tried to look at the room, not at them, cataloguing every exit.
They argued about something; schedules, training, who got the hot water in the mornings. I tuned it out, focusing on the rhythm of folding clothes, stacking books, arranging my things. It was the only thing I could control.
Eventually, Rowan wandered back to his side of the room, flopping onto his bed with a sigh. "Don't worry, Adrian. They're only like this with new blood. Survive a week, and they might learn your name."
Kael muttered something under his breath that sounded like a threat.
Lucien didn't say anything at all.
For a while, I just sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands. I tried to breathe slow and steady, like Maris had taught me. In, out. In, out. I told myself I could do this. I'd survived worse. Maybe.
I looked around at my new roommates; one ice, one fire, one mischief, aand felt a knot of dread twist in my stomach. I was supposed to be Adrian. I was supposed to blend in, to survive, to make it through the year with my secret intact.
But as I sat there, listening to the monsters bicker, I realized something horrible and exhilarating.
For the first time in my life, I was nobody. I was just a shadow in someone else's story. And maybe, if I was lucky, nobody would notice what I really was.
At least, not yet.