Magemore Academy was the pinnacle of magical education, nestled on the edge of the mystical Everfall Forest. Its towering spires gleamed against the enchanted sky, where dragons occasionally flew by like it was just another Tuesday. This wasn't just a school—it was a battleground for the elite ranks of magic users. Here, everyone was classified by their power level, a system that ranged from Angelic Ascendants at the top, to Cruel Embers at the bottom. Naturally, it was a place of chaos, drama, and, for some reason, a lot of underground pranks involving enchanted pudding.
Maximus—or Max, as he insisted people call him because "Maximus sounds like I'm a 12th-century gladiator"—wasn't your average 17-year-old. He was the son of the Victor Drayden, a billionaire CEO who had more magical patents than most people had socks. Max, however, was better known for his terrifying power: Shadowflame. It was the kind of ability that made seasoned sorcerers double-check their life insurance.
But Max had a secret goal: to avoid being seen as just the terrifying rich kid. So, when his father announced he was going to Magemore for "a bit of character building," Max reluctantly packed his custom black leather suitcase (complete with a floating charm) and hoped no one would recognize him. Spoiler alert: They did.
Lyra was… different. To most of Magemore, she was just "the powerless girl." She was unranked, which meant she officially had no magic—something unheard of at Magemore. But Lyra didn't mind. In fact, she reveled in the anonymity. What no one knew was that her power wasn't just rare—it was dangerous enough to make every headmaster of Magemore since its founding spin in their graves.
Lyra's best friend, Ivy, often joked, "One day, Lyra, you'll either save the world or burn it to the ground. Either way, I'm bringing popcorn."
The Welcome Party was nothing short of magical mayhem. Floating lanterns lit the enormous Grand Hall, where students—dressed in robes enchanted to sparkle in their house colors—buzzed with excitement. The Headmaster, a perpetually grumpy man named Professor Wrathstone, stood at the front, holding a long scroll.
"Welcome, magelings," he grumbled, his voice carrying across the hall. "Tonight, we form your teams. These will be your comrades in battle, your partners in study, and—if the past years are any indication—the ones most likely to prank you in your sleep."
Lyra nudged Ivy. "Why do I feel like we're going to end up with the weirdos?"
"Speak for yourself. I'm hoping for the hot ones," Ivy replied, winking at a passing Angelic Ascendant who promptly tripped over his robe.
Max stood near the back of the room, arms crossed, trying to look inconspicuous. His best friend, Aiden, who was also heir to a magical pharmaceutical empire, leaned over and whispered, "Bet we get stuck with the duds."
Max smirked. "Better than being with someone who can't keep their cauldron from exploding."
Professor Wrathstone cleared his throat. "And now, the team selections! First up: Team De-Hellers."
The hall went silent. "It's pronounced De-hellers," someone corrected, earning an icy glare from the Headmaster.
"Whatever. The team consists of Maximus Drayden, Aiden Vale, Lyra Evershade, and Ivy Mosswood. You will share a dormitory, train together, and—for the love of all things enchanted—try not to destroy the campus."
The dorm assignment was, to put it mildly, a disaster.
"Co-ed rooms?" Max asked, staring at the door marked De-Hellers – Dorm 7A.
Aiden grinned. "Relax, Mr. Shadowflame. What's the worst that could happen?"
Inside, Lyra was already unpacking, her trunk floating beside her. Ivy, sprawled on the couch, raised an eyebrow as the boys entered. "Oh great, we're living with the magical mafia."
Max's shadowy aura flickered slightly. "Excuse me?"
"You know, broody rich guy with a dangerous power? Total mafia energy," Ivy said, unfazed.
Aiden burst out laughing. "She's got a point."
Max glared at him. "You're not helping."
Lyra, who had been silent up until now, glanced at Max. "You're the Shadowflame guy, right? Don't set the curtains on fire. I like them."
Max blinked. "Noted."
Aiden flopped onto the other couch, clearly amused. "This is going to be fun."
By the time night fell, the group had already encountered three magical mishaps. Ivy's potion to "freshen the air" had exploded, coating the room in a layer of glitter. Max accidentally activated a shadow portal while reaching for a book, and Lyra had mysteriously avoided every single mishap, despite standing right in the chaos.
Max narrowed his eyes at her. "How are you so calm? And clean?"
Lyra shrugged. "Skill."
"Or magic," Aiden added with a smirk.
"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, though her eyes sparkled with something more than amusement.
As they settled in for the night, Ivy declared, "If we're going to survive this year, we need a team motto."
"How about 'Don't Die'?" Max suggested dryly.
Lyra smirked. "I like it. Simple, effective."
Aiden raised a mock toast with his water bottle. "To Team De-Hellers: May our chaos never kill us. Or at least, not immediately."