The gates of the school rose like black spires against the pale sky, their ironwork curling into shapes that looked almost alive. Beyond them, stone towers vanished into drifting mist, and the air itself felt charged with something old, heavy, and unseen. Aira stopped at the threshold, her hand tight around the strap of her bag. Just two months ago, she had been an ordinary girl. Now she was standing in a place her great-grandmother used to whisper about, the school for those with powers.
She had never known she had any. Not until the fire. Not until the girl at her old school who pushed her too far, and anger had flared so hot inside her that it spilled out of her hands. She hadn't meant to hurt her, hadn't meant to burn her. But the screams still echoed in Aira's dreams. That was the day she understood—whatever this power was, it was dangerous. And so was she.
Her parents had wanted to come with her, but they couldn't. Humans weren't allowed past the gates, and hers were as human as they came. Her grandparents too. Only her great-grandmother had been different—living unnaturally long because of her abilities, telling Aira stories of this place when she was small. Back then, Aira had imagined soaring halls and secret magic. But standing here now, the dream felt like a trap closing around her.
Inside her head, the voice whispered again.
"They're all looking at you. Weak. Pathetic. Burn them before they burn you."
Aira's throat tightened. She shook her head sharply as if she could rattle the voice loose. It had been there since her power awakened, dark and persuasive, pushing her to lash out. Sometimes she thought it was part of her magic; other times, she feared it was something else entirely.
No one came to guide her. In this school, you had to find your own way. But even the simple act of asking someone for help felt impossible; her social anxiety pinned her in place. She hated how small it made her feel. She hated how much the voice inside seemed to enjoy it.
Then, a voice—real, not in her head—cut through the mist.
"Hey! You're new here, aren't you? You look totally lost."
Aira turned sharply. Standing a few steps away was a girl with sunlight in her hair—bright blonde, eyes an unreal shade of blue. She was smiling like she'd never had a dark thought in her life.
"I—I'm… Aira," she said, her voice low, unsure how to speak to someone who felt so opposite to her.
"I'm Zara!" the girl said cheerfully, stepping closer. "First day? Don't worry, I've got you. This place is crazy, but you'll get used to it."
Aira hesitated. She wanted to say I'm fine. She wanted to turn and run. But the voice in her head hissed instead:
"Push her away. She's nothing. You don't need anyone."
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. She hated how heavy the words felt.
"I'm… looking for the principal's office," she managed.
"Then come on," Zara said, reaching out as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "I know the way."
Zara led Aira through a maze of corridors, the stone walls seeming to hum with energy, faint runes glowing along the edges. Candles floated in the air, flickering without a breeze, casting shadows that twisted like they had a life of their own. Every step Aira took made the voice in her head stir, whispering again, darker this time:
This is your world now. Everyone will fear you soon.
Aira pressed her arms against her chest, forcing herself to breathe normally. She wanted to ask Zara if this always happened, if every corner of this school was alive like this, but the words stuck in her throat.
Zara didn't notice her hesitation. She chattered happily, pointing out doors and archways, describing classrooms that brewed potions, libraries with floating books, and a training yard where sparks of magic danced in the air. Aira tried to follow along, but her mind kept returning to the memory of her power, the burning girl, the sharp edge of the voice in her head.
Finally, they reached a massive oak door carved with shifting symbols. "Principal's office," Zara said, smiling. "You'll love it… maybe."
Aira swallowed. Something about the door felt… wrong. The runes pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, and she felt a cold tingle run down her spine.
She glanced at Zara, whose face was still bright and carefree, and then back at the door. Her hand hovered over the handle. She wanted to turn and run, to escape into the corridors that twisted endlessly behind her—but curiosity, that sharp, gnawing curiosity, won.
Aira grasped the handle. The door swung open with a groan, revealing a room shrouded in shadow. Shapes moved inside, but the shadows didn't belong to anyone she could see. A faint glow traced the outlines of figures, and she could feel magic—power unlike anything she'd ever sensed.
A soft, metallic click echoed from behind her. She turned—and froze.
Someone—or something—was standing in the hallway, watching her.
And Aira knew, with a sudden, icy certainty, that whatever it was… it wasn't human.