Chapter 1: Shadows and Invitations
The rain hit the roof in relentless waves, rattling the loose boards above Elara's tiny attic room. The wind howled through the cracks in the walls, sending shivers down her spine as she curled up beneath the thin, moth-eaten blanket.
"Useless girl," her uncle's voice echoed in her mind. "A waste of space, just like your damned parents."
She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm. He was probably downstairs, nursing a bottle of cheap whiskey, cursing the day he took her in. Not out of kindness, of course—he had no love for her. He only tolerated her presence because of whatever arrangement the Academy had with him. A stipend, she assumed. Something to keep him from tossing her onto the streets.
The wind outside shifted suddenly. Not natural. A presence.
Then—a knock.
Not at the front door.
At her window.
Elara sat up sharply. Her attic window was three stories high with no ledge. Nothing should be able to knock.
She hesitated, then crept forward, the floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet. The glass had fogged over, but a dark shape loomed outside. Not human. Not entirely.
A bird?
No.
The thing moved, pressing against the glass. A raven, but something about it was wrong. It wasn't just black—it was the absence of light itself, its feathers shifting like liquid void.
It tapped the glass again.
Click. Click. Click.
Elara exhaled and unlatched the window. The raven darted inside in a flurry of wings, dropping something onto the warped wooden floor before perching on the rafter. Its glowing violet eyes fixed on her.
A letter.
Sealed with a sigil she had only seen in the forbidden books she'd stolen glimpses of in her uncle's study.
The crest of Astralis Academy of Arcane Mastery.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled as she reached down and picked it up. The parchment was thick, laced with veins of shimmering silver. The moment her fingers touched it, warmth spread through her—a pulse, like a heartbeat, like recognition.
She tore the seal. The ink on the page seemed to shimmer, shifting as if alive.
Miss Elara Nightshade,
Your presence has been requested at Astralis Academy of Arcane Mastery.
The night of your initiation draws near.
Fail to attend, and the shadows will reclaim what is theirs.
The choice is yours.
— Headmistress Selene Varathis
Elara swallowed.
The choice? What choice? Refusing didn't seem like an option.
The raven let out a low, guttural caw. Not a bird's call—something deeper. Something knowing.
"Elara!" her uncle's voice boomed from downstairs. "What the hell are you stomping around for?"
She shoved the letter into the pocket of her tattered cloak and bolted down the narrow, spiraling staircase. Her uncle stood in the dim candlelight of the kitchen, his wiry frame hunched over a bottle. His eyes, sunken and bloodshot, locked onto her with disdain.
"Well?" he grunted. "What the fuck do you want?"
Elara didn't speak. She simply pulled the letter from her pocket and slid it onto the table.
Her uncle's expression twisted into something between a sneer and relief. He grabbed the letter, squinting at the sigil. Then he let out a sharp bark of laughter.
"Finally," he muttered. "Good riddance."
Elara's jaw tightened. "You don't care?"
"Care?" He snorted. "I've been waiting for this day for sixteen gods-damned years. Should've known those bastards would come crawling back for you. Your parents left a mess. Let them deal with it."
Her heart pounded at the mention of her parents, but she didn't ask. He never answered, anyway.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Pack your shit. Get out of my house."
It wasn't his house. It had belonged to her parents. But she didn't argue. Instead, she turned and climbed back up to her attic room, stuffing what little she had into a worn satchel. A few books, a dull dagger, and the tattered locket she had never dared open.
By the time she stepped outside, the raven was waiting on the gate.
A carriage—black as night, pulled by creatures that weren't quite horses—stood in the road. The driver, hooded and silent, gestured for her to enter.
She did.
As the carriage pulled away, her uncle didn't say goodbye.
Astralis Academy: A New World
The carriage ride lasted through the night, the scenery shifting in ways that defied logic. At some point, the stars above rearranged themselves. The air grew thick with magic, pulsing through her veins.
And then—looming in the distance—she saw it.
Astralis Academy.
A floating fortress of black stone and silver runes, suspended in the sky above an endless chasm. Bridges of shimmering energy connected the towers. Magic hummed in the very air, thick and intoxicating.
The carriage landed at the entrance, where robed figures awaited. Students, some curious, some indifferent, some watching with predatory smiles.
A tall woman in midnight-blue robes stepped forward. Her presence was imposing—not just because of her height, but because of the raw power radiating from her.
"Elara Nightshade," she said smoothly. "Welcome to Astralis Academy. I am Headmistress Selene Varathis."
Elara's throat felt dry. "What now?"
The Headmistress's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"Now, you face the Vailis Rite."
The Vailis Rite (Sorting Ceremony)
Unlike other academies, where students were assigned houses or factions, Astralis Academy used the Vailis Rite—a test that revealed the truth of one's soul.
A massive, ancient mirror stood at the heart of the hall. The Mirror of Vailis.
One by one, students were called forward.
When they stood before the mirror, their reflection twisted, revealing their true nature—their strengths, their weaknesses, their potential. The mirror then chose one of four orders for them:
Umbra Noctis (The Shadowborn) – Masters of forbidden magic, illusion, and deception.
Lunaris Aeternum (The Moonlit Scholars) – Seekers of knowledge, alchemists, and diviners.
Ignis Dominion (The Fireforged) – Warriors, battle-mages, and spellblades.
Aetheris Pactum (The Dreambound) – Healers, summoners, and wielders of celestial magic.
When Elara stepped before the mirror, she expected to see herself.
Instead, she saw nothing.
A void.
The mirror cracked.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
Selene's eyes darkened with something unreadable.
"It seems," she murmured, "we have a unique case."
Silence stretched. Then—
"You belong to Umbra Noctis."
The Shadowborn.
The ones who walked the line between power and damnation.
Elara exhaled.
Somehow, she knew this was only the beginning.