Two weeks had passed since Coralina arrived at the Union's Magic Academy. Although she had tried to ignore the constant mentions of her mother, it was impossible not to learn about the impact the "Darkness User" had left in this country.
During the early phases of the U.S. occupation of Mexico in 1847, her mother was absent. She was in Europe, representing the Mexican Military Academy of Magic at a congress of European mages. It was a period of uncertainty for the American mages, who initially faced little magical resistance. Despite the bravery of the Mexican mages, the Americans won every magical battle on Mexican soil.
Discussions about her mother in those days were filled with skepticism. Some American mages dismissed her, arguing that Mexican magical training was lacking. There were claims that Mexican mages were undisciplined, their techniques rudimentary, and that they posed no real threat to an organized army like the United States'.
"They were students going up against soldiers," some would say. "We didn't even have to take them seriously."
Coralina heard these stories repeatedly as she moved through the academy. However, there was always a turning point in the narratives: everything changed when the "Darkness User" returned.
A month after the initial incursion, the U.S. naval fleet began reporting something strange. Captains of ships stationed in the Gulf of Mexico described an unidentifiable presence moving across the sea.
"They say it was like a shadow gliding over the waves," Coralina overheard a group of students discussing in the library. "A dark silhouette that swallowed the light. And no matter how fast they sailed, they couldn't catch it."
"Was it a ship?" one of them asked.
"They say it wasn't. Some believe it was her, running over the water."
At first, Coralina thought it was an exaggeration. However, the accounts were consistent: when her mother learned what was happening in Mexico, she crossed the Atlantic in a single day.
"Impossible," Coralina murmured while flipping through a book on advanced magic in the library.
"Impossible for you, maybe," replied a voice beside her. It was Peter, organizing his own books. "But if she could channel antimagic to move through space… it doesn't sound that impossible."
In magical history classes, her name was mentioned as one of the greatest surprises of the U.S. occupation.
It was said that Coralina's mother was already famous for her mastery of antimagic, a rarely practiced and even less understood art in the Old Continent. During her stay in Austria, at the Kaiserliche Institut für Magische Kriegsführung, she participated in war simulations and astonished everyone with her ability to neutralize Europe's most advanced techniques.
Although not widely known to the general public, Aurora had played a crucial role in Mexico's War of Independence. At the age of nineteen, she was part of a small group of mages who supported Miguel Hidalgo in the early stages of the independence movement.
"Did you know your mother was present at the Cry of Dolores?" Claire mentioned to Coralina one day while they were reviewing a magical history book in the library.
Coralina looked up, surprised. "What? Hidalgo had mages?"
According to accounts from that battle, the Spanish army deployed a small group of mages to eliminate the insurgents. It was the first time the revolutionaries faced magic in combat and would have been defeated if not for Aurora.
Coralina also discovered that her mother wasn't entirely aligned with the insurgents. Although she fought for the cause, Aurora had conflicts with the widespread violence and the reprisals that often followed insurgent victories.
"Some accounts say Aurora left the insurgents after Hidalgo's execution," Peter explained. "Not because she didn't believe in independence, but because she couldn't bear the unnecessary loss of life."
After a while, Coralina closed the book with a sharp thud and pushed it forward, glancing around the shelves.
"Why do they have so many records about my mother here?" she asked loudly, enough for Claire and Peter, who was organizing books in a corner, to turn toward her.
Claire approached, carrying a couple of tomes in her arms. "Well, she's the Darkness User. Her legacy is everywhere. But mostly, it's because she wrote The Book of Antimagic Principles."
Thomas chimed in from a nearby table, where he was reviewing a spell scroll. He propped his elbows on the table and gave a smug smile.
"It's not just because of the book, Ixchel," he said, deliberately using her alias. "It's because she was one of the reasons the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed. It was part of the agreement's conditions."
"What are you saying, Porter? That my mother had something to do with the treaty?"
"Not directly, of course. But one of the clauses was that Mexico share specific magical knowledge with the United States, especially about antimagic. Your mother was the only mage in history to write a complete treatise on how it works."
"You're telling me my mother handed over her knowledge to the U.S. Army?"
"It's not that simple," Peter interjected, adjusting his glasses. "From what I've read, the treaty was a sort of exchange. Mexico agreed to cede certain territories, but the use of magic in future conflicts was also negotiated."
"First, it could only be used for defensive purposes. Second, the book could not be replicated without the Mexican government's permission. And third, no individual could use antimagic offensively without approval from an international council. Essentially, she wanted to ensure her knowledge wouldn't become a weapon of destruction."
Coralina let her thoughts drift to a place she rarely revisited: her time at the Kaiserliche Institut für Magische Kriegsführung in Vienna.
In Vienna, she had excelled from the very beginning. Her ability to neutralize spells and absorb magical energy made her unique among the students but also placed her under constant scrutiny. Her instructors, some of the most respected mages in Europe, were more concerned with controlling her than teaching her.
Whenever she requested to use antimagic in simulations or training, she had to obtain permissions and follow an endless list of conditions.
"You may only use antimagic in designated areas."
"Never use it against your classmates."
"You are limited to three consecutive uses."
"Why so many rules?" she had once asked one of her instructors, frustrated.
"The problem isn't just what you can do," they replied. "It's that no one else can counter you. Antimagic has no balance, and that makes it dangerous."
Antimagic wasn't an open field of study. In fact, it was officially prohibited at the academy, considered an aberration that violated the basic principles of magic. Coralina had only been admitted because of Mexico's negotiations during the treaty. She was the only student with this power.
Her classmates treated her with fear, especially after the first magical combat trials. She had taken down one of the class's top students with a single move.
Rumours about his mother were already circulating in Vienna, which only complicated matters further.
"Your mother was the only one who managed to use antimagic without causing havoc," one of the combat instructors, Baroness Ingrid von Helstein, told her one day. "If you can't demonstrate the same restraint, perhaps you shouldn't use it at all."
No matter what she did, she was always compared to her mother.
Life at the Vienna academy was strict, filled with rigid schedules and rules that Coralina found suffocating. Mornings began with physical training, followed by theoretical lessons in rune calculation, magical history, and war strategies. Afternoons were reserved for supervised duels and group practical exercises.
She rarely worked with her peers. Antimagic wasn't compatible with other magical disciplines, forcing her to practice alone in special areas.
"You're like an island," a young British mage had once told her, trying to get closer. "Incredible to behold, but impossible to reach."
"What do you want, Wright?"
Alexander raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Not much. I just wanted to invite you to the spring ball."
For a moment, Coralina thought she had misheard. She looked at him, her sword resting on her shoulder. "Me?"
Yes. You, the mysterious antimagic user who's always one step away from devouring the world."
"Mysterious? Is that what you think I am? A project to entertain you?"
"No," he quickly replied, stepping closer. "I think you're someone everyone fears because they don't understand you. And that's a shame because I think…"
"Oh?"
Alexander shrugged, keeping his smile. "That's what I'd like to find out. So, what do you say? Will I see you at the ball?"
She studied him carefully, searching for any hint of mockery or ill intent. But Alexander seemed genuine.
"Do what you want, Wright. I'm not promising anything."
From that day on, Alexander began approaching Coralina more often. He wasn't intrusive, but he found opportunities to talk to her during breaks between classes or during practice hours. At first, Coralina thought he was just being persistent, but she soon realized their conversations were… different.
Alexander didn't seem to fear her or be impressed by her antimagic. Instead, he asked her questions about her life in Mexico, her thoughts on the academy, and her interests outside combat.
"Have you always been this serious?" he asked one day as they walked toward the library.
"I've always been realistic," Coralina replied. "Life doesn't leave much room for nonsense."
"That sounds exhausting. Haven't you ever considered that maybe life has room for the little things too? Dancing, laughing… even, I don't know, enjoying a good romantic relationship?"
"That sounds like a waste of time," Coralina retorted, though there was something in her tone that suggested she didn't entirely believe it.
Hours before the ball, Coralina was in the practice room, reviewing notes on rune calculation when her professor, Friedrich Steiner, approached with a stack of documents under his arm.
Steiner was a man in his forties, perpetually disheveled, with slightly crooked glasses. He was a brilliant researcher in magical theory, but his social life was almost nonexistent.
Coralina respected him because he never treated her like an anomaly, just like any other student, though he always had something to say about her attitude.
"Miss Álvarez, you look frustrated?" Steiner asked, sitting in a chair next to her.
Coralina looked up, dropping her pen with a sigh. "Not exactly. I need your help."
"Help? How curious. Until now, you've only asked me to explain why flow rune calculations don't apply to your antimagic. I didn't think anything outside the academy could trouble you."
"It's about the ball. Someone invited me, and I have no idea how to… well, how to dress."
"This is strange. The fearsome Coralina Álvarez, antimagic user, worried about something as mundane as a dress."
"If you're going to mock me, I'll find help elsewhere," Coralina said, standing up.
"No, no, no!" Steiner raised his hands to stop her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Of course, I'll help, though I must warn you: I'm a disaster in social matters. My experience with women is… very limited. But I'll do my best."
That afternoon, Steiner took Coralina to downtown Vienna. The streets were filled with shops boasting dazzling displays, and Coralina couldn't help but feel out of place.
Steiner talked about color and style options that might complement her white hair, though his tone was more academic than practical.
"Your hair is unique, an advantage we should highlight," he said, pointing to a sky-blue dress in a window. "Colors that contrast with white, like this… What do you think?"
Coralina looked at him skeptically. "I'd prefer something simpler. I don't want to look like a porcelain doll."
They continued browsing until, while examining options in an exclusive boutique, Steiner paused. "By the way, who's this young man who invited you? I never thought anyone would have the courage to do so."
"Alexander Wright," Coralina answered without much thought.
Steiner's face changed immediately. His expression went from neutral to alarmed in seconds. "Alexander Wright? The second prince of England?"
"Hmmm, I thought he was just another student."
"He's the Duke of Kent's son and second in line to the British throne. If that young man invited you, you can't just show up in anything. This is… well, significant."
The boutique attendant, who had been listening, approached with a radiant smile. "Did you say you're attending with Prince Wright? Oh, dear, this changes everything! Don't worry, we'll make sure you look absolutely perfect."
In less than ten minutes, an army of stylists, makeup artists, and designers was at her disposal. Coralina, clearly out of her element, tried to protest, but Steiner convinced her.
"If you're going to represent Mexico and yourself, Coralina, you need to make an impression," he said seriously.
For hours, the stylists worked to prepare Coralina. They chose a crimson red dress, cinched at the waist with a skirt that fell in soft layers to the floor, adorned with golden embroidery that evoked the shimmer of stars.
The design highlighted the whiteness of her hair, which the stylists styled into an elaborate low bun, with a few loose strands framing her face.
A light layer of makeup enhanced her dark eyes, and they placed a small golden crown on her head.
When Coralina looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.
"This is too much," she murmured, touching the dress.
"It's perfect," Steiner said from a corner, a proud smile on his face. "Alexander won't know what to say when he sees you."
The grand main hall, usually reserved for conferences and formal meetings, was decorated with floating garlands of magical flowers illuminated by soft golden lights. An orchestra played lively music in one corner, and the students, dressed in their finest attire, filled the room.
Some, who barely dared to look at her during training sessions, now couldn't take their eyes off her. Even the professors exchanged approving glances.
"I knew you'd come," Alexander said at last when Coralina approached, though his voice was softer than usual.
"Don't get any ideas," Coralina replied, though there was a faint trace of amusement in her tone. "I'm only here because I was forced to."
Alexander laughed, regaining his composure. "Well, whoever forced you did an excellent job. May I have this dance?"
"Just one. Don't get used to it."