We were guided to our respective dorm rooms after the headmistress's chilling warning about the weight of being a witch. To my surprise, I found that I was sharing a room with Elara, the noble girl who had been quiet since the incident with the headmistress. But something was strange—Elara and the other girls in the dormitory seemed to be avoiding me. Whenever I made eye contact, they averted their gazes, as if I had become something they feared.
What did I do?
After the intense rejection from my own family and being returned to this mysterious school, I could understand why some girls were distant. Yet, the way they looked at me, even Elara, was unnerving. I decided I couldn't leave it unaddressed. We were stuck together, at least for the foreseeable future, so I might as well ask.
"Why are they afraid of me?" I asked Elara, my voice low but firm. "Have I done something wrong?"
Elara hesitated, glancing at the other girls before responding. She seemed reluctant to answer at first, as if weighing the consequences of speaking up. Finally, she sighed and met my gaze.
"When you looked into the witches' eyes," Elara explained, her voice barely a whisper, "the ground beneath us trembled. The air around you grew heavy. But the strange thing was, your face remained expressionless, as if you weren't aware of it."
I blinked, processing her words. The ground had trembled? I hadn't even felt it. There had been no surge of fear or anger on my part—nothing that could have triggered such an effect. No wonder the other girls were wary of me. I would've been scared too if someone had unknowingly caused the ground to tremble just by standing there.
"I wasn't aware of it," I said quietly, more to myself than to her.
Elara gave me a small nod. "That's what scares them. If you can do something like that without realizing it, what might happen if you lose control?"
I wanted to ask more, but the exhaustion from the day's events settled over me like a heavy blanket. We were all tired. So, with little else to say, we silently got ready for bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The morning arrived with a distant tolling of bells, pulling me out of a restless slumber. As the early sunlight crept into the room, illuminating the old stone walls, a sinking feeling settled in my chest. Today, we were expected to attend our first lessons. Despite everything that had happened—being rejected by my family, brought to a secret witch school, and learning the terrible fate of the noble girl who had refused her powers—I couldn't deny that a small part of me was curious about what awaited us.
The day began with a simple breakfast, after which we were gathered by one of the faculty members and instructed to attend our respective classes. I couldn't help but think back to how I used to ask my mother about what school might be like, back when I believed I'd grow up as an ordinary girl. The memory brought a bitter smile to my face. I never would have guessed that this was the kind of school fate had in store for me.
As we waited for class to begin, the girls around me started to exchange names and stories, the tension from the previous night slowly easing away. The fear that had gripped them seemed to have dissipated—at least on the surface.
The first girl introduced herself as Iris, the beloved daughter of a baron. Her voice was steady, but there was a sadness in her eyes, like someone who had lost something irreplaceable. Her sister, Laura, followed suit, quieter but clearly trying to be strong for Iris.
Then came Morgan, a commoner like me. She had an easy smile, but her eyes flicked around the room, always watching, always assessing. Something about her told me she was used to reading people.
Ibelia, a former count's daughter, was next. Her voice carried the sharp edge of someone who wasn't used to being treated as anything less than special. And yet, here, she was the same as the rest of us—a witch.
I noticed that while most of the girls shared similar expressions of devastation, one girl, in particular, seemed different. She introduced herself as Felice, and though she appeared worried, it wasn't in the same way the rest of us were. It was as if her fear was for something else, something beyond what we had all just endured.
Just as the last introductions were made, the door to our classroom opened, and a woman with an air of calm authority entered. She was tall and elegant, her robes flowing like water as she stepped to the front of the room.
"Hello, class. I am Livia Bernard," she said with a serene smile. "I'll be teaching you magic theory."
Before any of us could speak, one of the girls raised her hand, curiosity plain on her face.
"Teacher, must we introduce ourselves?"
Livia smiled kindly and held out her hand. A soft light began to glow from her palm, casting the room in a warm, gentle radiance.
"No need," she said with a knowing glance. "I already know your names, Isabel."
Isabel blinked in surprise, her mouth falling open. She hadn't even introduced herself yet, and yet Livia had known her name as if it were second nature.
The rest of us stared in awe. Was this the power of magic? I had heard of witches performing unbelievable feats, but seeing it in person was another matter entirely.
"As you've seen," Livia continued, lowering her hand, "this is just one small example of what magic can do. Here, you will learn not only to use magic but to control it. Magic is not just a weapon, despite what you may have been told before coming here. It's a tool, a force that exists all around us, waiting to be shaped."
She paced slowly in front of the class, her gaze sweeping over us. "Magic is in the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the ground beneath our feet. Everything in this world contains magic, even you."
I felt a shiver run down my spine at her words. Everything contains magic? The very air around me? And we, as witches, had the ability to manipulate that force?
"Witches like yourselves," Livia continued, "have the innate ability to channel magic, to draw it into your bodies and shape it into various forms. The strength of your abilities will vary, depending on your lineage and natural talent."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "Some of you may rise to the highest ranks of our kind, becoming what we call Transcendence Witches. These witches have mastered their magic down to its very essence and can wield authority over elements or forces—an unparalleled control that sets them apart."
The word "authority" hung in the air like a weight. I had never heard it used in such a way before. Authority over elements? What did that mean?
"Second to the Transcendence Witches," Livia continued, "are those who wield lesser forms of authority. We call this 'blessing.' Each of you will have a unique blessing, a connection to a specific element or magical trait, depending on the demonic blood that flows through your veins."
I could feel the tension in the room grow as the mention of demonic blood echoed in our minds. We had all been taught that demons were the enemies of humanity, the source of evil in the world. But now, we were being told that our powers came from that same dark lineage?
Livia seemed to sense our discomfort and smiled softly. "Do not fear your blood. It is part of who you are, but it does not define you. What matters is how you choose to use the power it grants you. That is what you will learn here—to control your magic, to shape it into something meaningful."
As she spoke, I noticed Felice again. She wasn't reacting the same way as the others. While most of the girls looked shaken or confused, she remained calm, though her eyes were still filled with that strange worry from earlier. What was she hiding?
"For now," Livia said, breaking my thoughts, "we will begin with the basics. You will learn how to sense the magic around you, how to channel it, and, most importantly, how to control it."
I swallowed hard. This was real. I was no longer just a girl from a simple family. I was a witch, and this was my life now.
As Livia finished explaining the basics of magic, one of the girls raised her hand hesitantly. It was Iris, the baron's daughter. Her voice wavered slightly as she asked, "Teacher, what do we wield this magic for? What's its purpose?"
Livia turned to face her fully, her serene smile fading slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "We wield magic for one primary purpose: to fight demons. Demons live among us, masquerading as ordinary people. They hide in plain sight, blending in with human society, waiting for the right moment to strike. It is the duty of witches to hunt them down, to protect this world from their influence."
A ripple of unease passed through the room. The idea that demons were not just mythical creatures lurking in the shadows but beings that walked among us—hiding in plain sight—was deeply unsettling. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
One of the girls in the back, Ibelia, the former count's daughter, spoke up, her voice sharp with indignation. "But why should we protect the people who hate us? They're the ones who prejudice us, who hunt us. Why should we risk our lives for them?"
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Ibelia's frustration was something we all felt. After all, many of us had been disowned by our families, cast out simply because of what we were. Why should we care about protecting a world that wanted us dead?
Livia's expression didn't change. She looked at Ibelia with a calm but piercing gaze. "It would be better to protect the world, despite its flaws, than to let it fall into chaos. If the demons were to take over, everything you know—everything we all know—would be consumed by their darkness. The world would turn to hell, and humanity would have no chance of survival."
"But isn't that what they want? To see us destroyed?" Morgan, the commoner girl, chimed in. "What's stopping them from hunting us even after we've saved them?"
Livia's eyes softened, and she crossed her arms, leaning against the desk. "The world has always been complicated. You are right; the people fear us. Some will never understand, and their hatred is born from ignorance. But the role of a witch is not just a choice—it is a duty that has been passed down through generations. We are the only ones who can stand between humanity and the demons. This is the burden we bear."
The room was silent again, the weight of her words sinking in. I glanced around at the other girls. Some had expressions of anger, others of resignation. But no one spoke.
Finally, Livia straightened and continued. "The origin of witches is as old as the fight against demons themselves. Long ago, during the first age of the Great Calamity, when demons walked the earth freely, humanity was on the brink of extinction. The empire fought back, but normal weapons were useless against the demons. They were too powerful, their magic too destructive."
Her voice took on a more somber tone as she recounted the history. "In desperation, the emperor at that time made a fateful decision. When a demon was finally killed, its blood was harvested. But instead of discarding it, the blood was fused with young girls—those who had no future in the war. These girls became weapons themselves, wielding the demon's power against their own kind. That is how witches were born."
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I had heard vague stories of how witches came to be, but the reality of it felt much darker than I had imagined. We were not just born with this power—we were created, shaped by the blood of the very demons we were meant to fight.
Livia let the silence stretch for a moment before continuing. "This was a harsh and terrible time, but it was also necessary. The witches of old stood as humanity's last defense. And that tradition has continued. You, too, are part of this legacy."
One of the girls, Felice, who had been unusually quiet until now, raised her hand cautiously. "So, we're just... weapons?"
Livia's gaze softened again. "You are more than just weapons. You are protectors, guardians of the balance between this world and the demonic forces that threaten it. The blood in your veins is not just a curse; it is a gift—one that allows you to protect others, even if they cannot understand or appreciate it."
The room was still tense, but there was a shift in the air. The reality of our situation was sinking in, and though it was bitter, it was also inescapable. We were witches, bound by a fate that had been sealed long before we were born.
Livia took a deep breath and gave us a reassuring smile. "This is not an easy path, but it is one you must walk with your heads held high. You are part of something greater than yourselves, something that has been protecting humanity for centuries. Never forget that, no matter how the world sees you."
The lesson ended shortly after, and we were dismissed to reflect on what we had learned. As we left the classroom, I couldn't shake the weight of Livia's words. Protectors. Guardians. Weapons. It felt like too much, all at once. But deep down, I knew that this was my reality now. There was no turning back.
After Livia's explanation about the origins of witches, she moved on to something more immediate—the lesson we had all been waiting for. "Now that you understand the origins and responsibilities of witches, it's time for you to experience magic for yourselves."
A ripple of excitement and nervousness ran through the room. We all sat up a little straighter, our curiosity piqued. Livia gestured to the space around her. "Magic is not something you simply conjure from within. It exists all around us, in the air, in the ground, in the very essence of life. You can learn to feel it, to sense it, and eventually, to control it. Close your eyes and try to focus. I want each of you to visualize the magic flowing through this room."
I closed my eyes, unsure of what to expect. At first, there was only darkness, and then… something else. It was as if tiny threads of light began to shimmer in the blackness, delicate and glowing. I could feel them more than I could see them, but the sensation was unmistakable. Magic was all around us, like an invisible web connecting everything together.
When I opened my eyes again, the classroom seemed different—alive, in a way I hadn't noticed before. The strands of magic weren't visible to the naked eye, but I could feel them, tugging lightly at the edges of my consciousness. It was beautiful in a way that words couldn't fully describe.
I looked around and saw that the other girls were also wide-eyed, their faces lit up with wonder. The magic we had sensed was unlike anything we had ever imagined. It was as if the world had suddenly opened up in a new way, revealing its hidden beauty.
Livia smiled, clearly pleased with our reactions. "What you are seeing is the essence of magic itself. Each of you can sense it now, but over time, you will learn to harness it, shape it, and make it your own."
She paused and then added, "There is one more thing you must understand—something that sets witches apart from the rest of the world. The power of a witch is measured by their magical eyes. Each witch is born with a unique ability to perceive magic, and the strength of that ability is reflected in the type of magical eyes they possess, As you grow your magic eyes will be growing too until you reach the peak of what your eyes could be. "
We all exchanged curious glances. Magical eyes? Did she mean mark of the witch?.
"There are eight categories of magical eyes," Livia continued. "Each category determines a witch's potential and mastery over magic. The first seven categories belong to witches who wield blessings. These witches are powerful in their own right, but they do not possess the ultimate mastery of magic. The eighth category, however, is reserved for those who transcend the limits of normal witches—the transcendent witches. They wield authority over the elements and possess power beyond imagination."
She raised a hand, and with a flick of her wrist, a shimmering light filled the air around her. "The categories are as follows, named in the ancient tongue of the Empire."
She began listing them, her voice resonant and commanding:
1. Schleierblick (Veil Sight) – The first category, the most basic of magical eyes, allowing witches to sense the presence of magic in their surroundings.
2. Lichtflimmern (Light Flicker) – The second category, allowing witches to see magic as faint glimmers, indicating sources of power.
3. Wellenauge (Wave Eye) – The third category, enabling witches to perceive the flow and movement of magic through objects and people.
4. Schattenblick (Shadow Sight) – The fourth category, allowing witches to see hidden or obscured magic, even in darkness.
5. Kristallklar (Crystal Clear) – The fifth category, giving witches a heightened clarity in their vision of magical forms, able to see fine details in spells and enchantments.
6. Flammenauge (Flame Eye) – The sixth category, allowing witches to see the destructive aspects of magic, especially in fire or battle magic.
7. Sternensicht (Star Sight) – The seventh category, granting witches the ability to see far-off sources of magic, connecting with the celestial forces of the world.
She paused dramatically before continuing. "And finally, the eighth and most powerful category, which belongs only to the transcendent witches: Götterblick (God's Sight). This eye allows a witch to see the very essence of magic, to manipulate it at its most fundamental level. Those who possess this eye wield ultimate authority over magic."
The room was silent, each of us absorbing the weight of her words. The categories of magical eyes were more than just a reflection of our abilities—they were a measure of our place in the world of witches. I could sense the unspoken question in the room: which of us, if any, would possess one of these coveted eyes?
Livia gave us a knowing look. "As you progress in your studies, you will discover which category your magical eyes fall into, when you awaken yours that is. But remember, no matter which category you belong to, each of you has a vital role to play in the fight against the demons."
Livia paused, letting her words settle before adding, "There is one more thing about the magical eyes—something that is not often spoken of. Under certain mysterious conditions, a witch's eyes can evolve beyond your original limit . No one fully understands why or how it happens,their eyes can shift into a higher category. It's rare, but those who experience it are forever changed."
We all stared at her in awe. The idea that our eyes—our powers—could evolve was both exciting and terrifying. What kind of conditions would we have to fulfill to unlock such potential?
Livia continued, "For now, your goal is to master what you've been given. But never forget: magic is alive, just as we are. It can change, adapt, and grow—just as you will in time."
Livia's smile widened as she looked at us, her eyes filled with approval. "Congratulations, all of you," she said, her voice warm. "You've just unlocked the first stage of your magical eyes. This is no small feat—you are now certified witches."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Certified witches? The weight of her words sank in, and excitement mixed with nervousness filled the air. We had crossed a threshold, one we couldn't return from.
Livia raised her hand and, with a graceful flick, mirrors appeared in front of each of us, floating midair. "Go ahead," she urged, "take a look. This is the mark of your awakening."
I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, I leaned forward and peered into the mirror. At first, I only saw my reflection—the same girl who had boarded the carriage just a few days ago. But then, my gaze shifted to my eyes, and I saw it.
A faint glow, like a shimmering thread of light, danced within my irises. It wasn't overpowering, just a subtle flicker of magic. But it was unmistakable. The first stage of my magical eyes had manifested—Schleierblick, the Veil Sight.
Around me, I heard the gasps and murmurs of the other girls as they took in their reflections. Each of us had unlocked our eyes, the mark of our new reality as witches.
I glanced at Elara, who was staring wide-eyed at her own reflection. She looked both terrified and awestruck at the same time. "So, this is it," she whispered, her voice shaky. "We really are witches now."
Livia nodded, her expression serious. "Yes, you are. But this is only the beginning. The path ahead will not be easy. As witches, your powers will grow, and so will your responsibilities. Remember what you've learned today—magic is both a gift and a burden. The eyes you possess are the key to that power, and as you grow, so too may your eyes . You are now bound to the destiny of all witches."
I looked back into the mirror, still captivated by the faint glow in my eyes. A small part of me wondered—what would it take for them to evolve? What kind of trials would I have to face?.