⋅•●⋅ ✶ ─── {⋅. ❧ .⋅} ─── ✶ ⋅●•⋅
— 𝖈𝖍𝖕. 𝟏: 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗
⋅•●⋅ ✶ ─── {⋅. ❧ .⋅} ─── ✶ ⋅●•⋅
You weren't sure if you were alive or not. You finally got your freedom, only to have it taken again. What a cruel twist of fate indeed—or at least, that's what you thought. You groaned in pain as you tried to register what had happened before you found yourself in this predicament.
You remembered being chased by that terrifying black carriage while walking through the forest that night. Somehow, you were still alive. You thought you had been crushed by the carriage, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Your eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself standing in front of a mirror—a room full of mirrors. What stood out the most was the giant oval-shaped mirror in the center. Suddenly, an eerie black mist spilled from it. You tried to step back, but your body wouldn't obey, holding you in place. The mist dissipated, and for a moment, all was quiet. Then, green flames erupted from the mirror, illuminating the darkness, and a voice boomed across the room:
"Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor..."
"My proud, beautiful flower of evil."
Despite the ominous words, you felt compelled to move closer to the mirror, mesmerized by the flames that danced and slashed across the floor, licking tapestries and leaving charred trails in their wake.
"You are truly the fairest one of all."
"O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat..."
"Reveal unto me the visage I seek..."
Your vision went dark again, shifting to a vivid scene. Evening had fallen over a dark, gloomy forest. You heard the familiar rumbles of wheels—the black carriage! Inside, a large black coffin lay ominously. The carriage made its way toward a massive, dark castle. Dread pooled in your stomach as the scene faded back to the mirror room.
"You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth..."
"If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror."
The green flames vanished, revealing a hand reaching out to you. You hesitated, studying its features: slightly long nails, small wrinkles, a presence both strange and familiar. Before you could react, the surroundings blurred, shifting again.
Seven crests appeared around you, each bearing a unique figure, each golden ink swirling in the air with words that described their spirit.
Your vision blurred, and golden ink swirled in the air, forming the first crest before you. A stern queen appeared, her high crown gleaming, and in her grasp, a heart-tipped scepter bore a faint fracture, as if echoing the harshness of her reign.
"A strict queen who ruled over a kingdom of madness."
The scene shifted, revealing a vast manor bathed in red and black. Rose bushes twisted along whimsical hedge mazes, and oversized teacups dotted the grounds. The sunlight—or what seemed like it—caught on the glossy leaves, and the crest shimmered at the center of the manor, casting its golden glow across the scene.
"Heartslabyul. A dorm based on the Queen of Hearts' spirit of strictness."
The golden ink swirled again, and a proud lion with a scar on its left eye appeared before you, its lean, muscular form exuding determination and strength.
"A persistent king who overcame his background to claim the throne."
The scene shifted to a rocky savanna, where tiered cliffside dens and scattered bones hinted at trials endured and victories won. The sunlight glinted off the rugged stones, emphasizing the raw, untamed energy of the land.
"Savanaclaw. A dorm based on the King of Beasts' spirit of persistence."
Your vision blurred, and golden ink swirled in the air, forming the next crest before you. A voluminous figure emerged, her long, twisting tentacles curling elegantly around her, yet her eyes radiated a gentle, almost maternal warmth.
"A benevolent witch who helped lead even the most hopeless romances to a happy ending."
The scene shifted, revealing an underwater lounge bathed in soft, ethereal light. Stained-glass windows scattered refracted colors across art deco furniture, and the walls seemed to shimmer like the sea itself. Everything felt simultaneously luxurious and comforting, as though the ocean cradled the space.
"Octavinelle. A dorm based on the Sea Witch's spirit of benevolence."
Golden ink swirled, forming the fourth crest before you. A calm, intelligent man appeared, draped in long robes, his meticulously trimmed beard framing a placid expression. One hand was raised as if conjuring unseen light, radiating wisdom and patience.
"A mindful sorcerer who supported his kingdom by sharing words of wisdom with the sultan."
The scene shifted, showing a magnificent desert palace. Thick walls with gold inlays protected the central courtyard, where fountains and palm trees surrounded an oasis-like swimming pool. The air shimmered with warmth, and the grandeur of the palace spoke of centuries of careful stewardship.
"Scarabia. A dorm based on the Sorcerer of the Sands' spirit of mindfulness."
The next crest appeared, a serene yet determined queen clutching a small, gleaming apple. Her soft smile and focused eyes hinted at tireless ambition and meticulous care.
"A tenacious queen who toiled tirelessly in pursuit of perfection."
The scene shifted, revealing a towering Gothic castle adorned with sharp spires and sprawling botanical gardens. Elegant fountains sparkled in the light, and a research laboratory peeked from the corner, blending knowledge with beauty.
"Pomefiore. A dorm based on the Fairest Queen's spirit of tenacity."
Your vision swirled once more as golden ink formed the next crest. A lean, gaunt figure appeared, face twisted in worry and concentration, wreathed in faint, curling wisps of energy, embodying diligence in its purest form.
"A diligent king who carried out all of his duties, even the tasks that everyone else feared."
The scene shifted, revealing a sleek, modern fortress with neon-blue flames flickering against dark walls. Massive holographic gates projected holograms into the air, and the technology-laden environment conveyed discipline and a relentless pursuit of order.
"Ignihyde. A dorm based on the King of the Underworld's spirit of diligence."
Finally, golden ink swirled to reveal the last crest. A tall, majestic fairy appeared, her severe gown flowing like shadow, black horns curving elegantly from her crown. Her piercing gaze commanded both respect and awe.
"A noble fairy who employed many servants, yet still retained a proud independence."
The scene shifted, showing a grand, dark castle of heavy stone and stained glass. Spires rose into the sky, and expansive courtyards stretched beneath, exuding an air of ancient nobility and elegant isolation.
"Diasomnia. A dorm based on the Thorn Fairy's spirit of nobility."
The vision faded, leaving only the mirror chamber and the echo of the voice:
"As flame reduces even the stars to ash."
"As ice seals away even time itself."
"As great trees swallow even the sky."
A blinding light erupted, and the voice called once more:
"Fear not the power of darkness."
"Now—demonstrate your power."
Your heart pounded as the air thickened around you, heavy with a metallic tang that felt too sharp for a dream yet too unreal for waking. The void rippled like the surface of a disturbed lake, and from those shifting shadows, a chimera stepped forward. Its fangs gleamed in fractured light, its eyes burning with a hunger that flickered like reflections on a cracked mirror.
Your instinct screamed to run. But your body stayed still—as if unseen hands pressed down on your limbs.
The monster moved closer, its steps echoing strangely, like footsteps in a vast, empty hall. When sensation finally snapped back into your body, you broke into a run, though it felt more like drifting, like your feet barely touched the ground. Tears slipped down your cheeks, warm and real against the cool, unreal world.
Only then did you feel your satchel and bow—familiar anchors in a place that didn't obey the laws you knew.
A soft breath of relief escaped you, but your body kept moving as if pulled by invisible strings.
"What's happening...?" your voice echoed oddly, splitting faintly, as though two versions of you spoke at once.
"If this is a bad dream, please let me wake up... I just want to live peacefully... not die here... I just wanted freedom... please... give me a chance! I don't want to be weak... I don't want to be controlled... I don't want to be perfect... I want to live—please!"
Your cry drifted upward, scattering into golden motes that dissolved like dust.
A tremor whispered through your spine as elements burst into existence: fire, flora, water, cosmic light—each forming like shards of a broken mirror rearranging themselves into glowing constellations.
They circled you with soft crackles, humming in tones that felt both ancient and familiar.
Behind you, the monster's presence blurred, its growls echoing like a distorted recording.
The elements floated, waiting.
You reached out, and a wand coalesced into your hand—light at first, then solidifying with a gentle pulse.
Its gemstone resembled a tiny moon trapped within glass, gold flecks swirling like drifting stardust.
You waved it, and sparks fluttered out in lazy arcs, like petals caught in slow-motion.
You stopped running and turned to face the chimera.
Your first swing released fire, blooming outward like a fiery flower, its petals curling as it struck the chimera's chest. The impact rippled through the space, warping it for a heartbeat.
Both you and the beast froze in surprise.
Another wave—vines spiraled forward, but they grew in graceful curves, twisting into patterns reminiscent of sigils and ancient scripts before slamming into the chimera.
It inhaled sharply. Blue flares poured from its mouth, moving like liquid light. You dodged, the heat brushing your arm like a passing ghost.
Water erupted next—not in a sudden burst but as a flowing ribbon, shimmering like a river reflecting a fractured sky. It wrapped around the chimera's head before crashing against it.
The dream—or whatever it was—seemed to pulse with urgency.
You reached for your bow.
Light seeped into it, soft and radiant, and your arrow glowed with a gentle gold that felt like hope made solid. Dreamlike or not, instinct guided your hands.
Even the chimera's roar stretched into a warped echo.
The arrow streaked forward, trailing gold dust like a comet, embedding itself into the creature's chest.
The dust scattered, drifting upward like freed fireflies.
"I... I did that..." you whispered, your voice small, almost swallowed by the void.
You let out a breathless laugh, lifting yourself lightly, almost weightless.
Then the ground trembled—not violently, but like a warning.
The chimera rose again, the wound closing as if time rewound itself. Your breath hitched—if even your strongest strike couldn't stop it, then what hope did you have?
Fear prickled along your skin.
"...I just have to defeat him, right...? But what if this never ends...? Is this an endless battle I'm meant to be trapped in...?"
Attacks blurred—fire blooming like burning lotus petals, flora twisting into spirals, water flowing in impossible shapes, cosmic sparks shattering like glass.
But each collision drained you further, while the chimera grew sharper, clearer, more solid—as though your weakness made it stronger.
"Please... stop... I can't... please... wake me up... someone..."
Your legs gave out. Cold numbness crept up your fingertips, and the world warped at the edges, colors bleeding into one another like wet paint.
You fell softly—as though the world cushioned your fall—your wand slipping away and rolling with a faint, chiming echo.
The chimera lunged. Its roar fractured the darkness like a shattered mirror, the sound warping into echoes that didn't match its mouth.
Silence swallowed all sound.
You weren't falling anymore—just floating, suspended in a quiet so vast it felt like a dream remembering itself.
And in that silence, a voice whispered—gentle, echoing, familiar—as golden ink spilled across the void, forming a final message that faded like a dream slipping from your grasp.
"To me. To them. To yourself."
"The hour grows long, and time is scarce."
"Keep steady your grip, no matter what may come..."
The golden ink formed one last message:
"Welcome to the Villains' World."
The letters crumbled into dust.
That felt too real for it to be a dream. You remembered battling a strange chimera monster. Surely, it had been a nightmare... until now. But as you drifted again into darkness, a faint rattling sound snapped you fully awake, making your pulse spike.
The heavy, grounded weight of my own limbs felt like lead compared to the airy, powerful spark you had felt in your dream. It was a cold, bone-deep reminder that here, in this world of magic and monsters, you were just human.
"What's that noise?" you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut, a shiver running down your spine as your mind struggled to catch up.
"I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me..." said a sharp, high-pitched voice, echoing through the confined space.
"Urgggh... This lid weighs a ton!"
Lid? What did it mean, "lid"? Your thoughts scattered as your heart thudded, ears straining for any hint of movement in the shadows.
When you opened your eyes, you realized you weren't dreaming. You were standing upright in a dark, narrow space. The air smelled faintly of smoke and dust, and a low creak beneath your feet echoed ominously.
The torn wedding gown was gone. Instead, you were draped in highly formal, gothic black garments trimmed with gold embroidery, the high collar brushing against your neck and a large hood falling over your face. The fabric felt unexpectedly heavy yet smooth, almost impossibly fine, and the weight of the hood pressed slightly against your forehead, narrowing your vision and forcing you to focus.
Every movement felt deliberate, the silence around you thick and almost suffocating, as if the shadows themselves were watching.
Suddenly, a squeaky voice erupted from outside.
"Try this on for size! Mya-ha!"
Blue flames burst, licking the edges of the lid, and the air instantly thickened with heat and the sharp scent of burning wood. You stumbled backward, skin tingling as if tiny sparks had brushed against your arms, and the narrow walls pressed in from all sides, making every movement feel constrained.
"F-fire?!" you cried, heart hammering in your chest, each rapid beat echoing in the upright, confined space. Sweat pricked your temples, and your breath came in shallow, panicked gasps as your eyes darted between the lid above and the dark interior surrounding you.
After the fire died down, you finally pushed the lid upward, straining against its weight. The coffin towered over you like a narrow cage, and only then did it hit you—you were trapped inside a coffin?!
"Now to grab the goods..." the squeaky voice said, peering down at you.
You pinched yourself hard, blinking rapidly. Yes, it was real. You were alive, and the strangeness of it all made your head spin.
"What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!" the voice squeaked in shock.
You spun around, muscles tense, to find a creature standing before you, chest puffed in outrage. Its eyes seemed to bore into you, daring you to move, and every instinct screamed that it was far more dangerous than its comical voice suggested.
"A talking... weasel?!" you blurted, still struggling to believe what you saw.
"How... How DARE YOU! I am no WEASEL! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!" he shrieked, flaring his nostrils and nearly toppling over a loose scroll.
"Tch. Whatever. You... human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!" Grim took a dramatic stance, blue flames flickering wildly around him.
"'Cause if you don't...you're gonna regret it!"
Still in disbelief, you muttered under your breath.
"Getting roasted alive by a weasel? Great. What will I dream of next?"
"Well, keep dreamin', 'cause I ain't no weasel!" Grim barked, eyes narrowing, sparks snapping and dancing around his tiny claws. The heat was sudden and intense, licking at your arms, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.
You vaulted out of the coffin, adrenaline jolting every muscle as you darted down the narrow hallways. The echo of Grim's claws behind you was relentless, reverberating off the stone walls like rolling thunder. You twisted sharply around corners, nearly losing your footing on the cold, slick floor. A loose banner smacked against your face, sending you staggering—Grim's shrill cackle rang in your ears, mingling with the crackle and flare of his blue flames.
Each hallway you passed felt tighter, each turn more dangerous, the shadows deepening like living hands trying to slow you down. Your heart pounded so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your own breaths, and every glance over your shoulder revealed Grim closing the distance, eyes blazing, sparks flicking dangerously close. Panic and disbelief collided, leaving you trembling with a mix of fear and absurd awe—how had your life come to this, running from a furious, flame-wielding, talking sorcerer in a coffin-filled labyrinth?
Finally, you reached the library, lungs burning, chest heaving with every step. Dust motes danced in the dim light, and the tall shelves cast long shadows that seemed to stretch toward you.
"If this is a dream, I'm ready to wake up now," you muttered, panting, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
"Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME?" Grim roared, cornering you. Sparks from his blue flames flickered wildly, illuminating his tiny, furious figure.
Before he could advance, a force gripped him tight, lifting him effortlessly off the floor. The flailing familiar squeaked and thrashed, smoke curling around his claws, while the library seemed to hold its breath.
"Consider it tough love," said a deep voice. A man in an ornate mask held Grim firmly, his grip calm yet unyielding. Every movement was precise, measured, radiating authority that made the walls themselves feel smaller around you.
He turned to you, and the sound of his voice seemed to echo softly in the high, vaulted room. "Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students?"
"My, were you ever eager to make your debut," he added, his tone sharp, calculating, as if weighing every word you might utter.
"And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules," he tutted, as Grim flailed helplessly, sparks flying dangerously close to his own tail.
"As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now lemme go!" Grim yelled, thrashing against the firm grip.
"Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?" the masked man said, amusement dancing in his tone, tightening his hold just enough to remind Grim who was in control.
You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. Unease curled in your stomach, a mixture of fear and awe rooting you to the spot.
"Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you?"
Nothing came out. Your hands fidgeted, your mind racing, your eyes fixed on the calm figure in the mask who seemed to measure every ounce of your hesitation.
"No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber," he continued, turning away, the sound of his boots echoing faintly against the polished stone.
"Mirror Chamber?" you whispered, unease twisting through you like a cold vine.
"Student...?" you ventured, voice trembling slightly.
"You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All students arrive by passing through such gates. Typically, they have restraint enough to wait until I open them," he explained, calm, authoritative, each word precise.
"So those coffins are like... gateways?" you murmured, still trying to process the strange logic of it all.
"The design is intended to symbolize a parting with your former world, and a rebirth into a new one," he replied, voice smooth, measured, almost ceremonious, leaving you both awed and uneasy.
He patted your back, then beckoned you forward. The two of you walked through hallways, stone surfaces cold beneath your boots. Light flickered from enchanted sconces, shadows dancing along the walls in intricate patterns, and a faint magical hum seemed to resonate with each step.
"But now is not the time for such prattle. You've a student orientation to attend! Make haste," he said, urging you forward.
You finally found your voice. "First, just tell me one thing. Where am I?"
The man paused, tilting his head. "Hm? Have you not fully regained consciousness? Timespace teleportation must have addled your memories..."
Timespace teleportation? The words made your head spin. What about the black carriage? The one that practically swallowed you?
"Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless," he said, with a proud lift of his chin.
Eventually, you reached a courtyard. The cool air brushed your face, carrying scents of stone warmed by sunlight and faint traces of magic. Your boots crunched softly against the cobbled surface, and the expanse of the courtyard stretched before you like a promise of unknown possibilities.
"Ahem," he said, drawing your attention.
"This is Night Raven College. An institution for students the world over who demonstrate rare magical aptitude. It is the most prestigious academy of its sort in all of Twisted Wonderland," he declared.
A college? You had never imagined yourself to end up in a school like this. Your pulse quickened, a strange mix of awe and disbelief settling in your chest.
"And I am Dire Crowley. Having been entrusted with its care by the chairman, I serve as Headmage," he introduced himself, voice reverent but commanding.
Headmage... the one in charge. The title alone made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and nervousness as you looked at him.
"Magic?!" you gasped, stepping back, the word tasting strange on your tongue. You were human. That much you knew. You couldn't help but shiver. None of your world's logic seemed to apply here. If magic chose its masters... where did that leave you?
"Only those the Dark Mirror perceives as having a talent for magic are admitted. Those selected are summoned through gates," he explained, gesturing back toward the forest path.
"A black carriage bearing one such gate should have come to meet you," he added, voice calm yet unmistakably authoritative.
Black carriage... so it really did brought you here. You shudder at the thought of your body inside that coffin when you remembered that vision in your dream. The reality hit hard, your mind racing to reconcile this new world.
“That black carriage serves to receive a student chosen by the Dark Mirror. It too bears a gate that connects to this campus,” the Headmage explained.
“And as you know, sending a carriage to meet someone on a special day is a time-honored tradition.”
Your mind whirled. "Uh... a time-honored tradition WHERE?"
"Mmfff! Mmmmmmfff!" Grim's muffled voice protested, indignation clear even through the muffling, as if he refused to accept your newfound reality.
"Now, let us attend to your orientation," the Headmage concluded, walking toward the grand gates of the Mirror Chamber. Each step echoed through the courtyard, carrying both authority and the quiet thrill of the unknown ahead.
The walk to the Mirror Chamber was awkward, to say the least. Your boots echoed softly on the stone floors, and the faint hum of magic seemed to vibrate under your feet. You had never imagined ending up here, far from the quiet life you had pictured in a small, cozy cottage.
As the Mirror Chamber drew closer, a nervous anticipation stirred in your chest. The massive mirrored doors reflected the flickering light in strange, warped angles, and shadows seemed to shift just beyond your vision.
Upon entering, hundreds of students lined up before corresponding mirrors. Whispers echoed across the room, and eyes turned toward you and the Headmage. Your stomach twisted as you noticed something unsettling—there were only boys. The room's vastness and the murmuring students made it feel strangely alive, and an uneasy sense of being watched settled over you.
Just then, you hear someone's voice.
"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments? All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!"
Off with your head? Now that's a bit too much, isn't it? Is he just exaggerating? You hope so. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought.
"Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me," another voice said, yawning from exhaustion.
Seems to not care about this orientation at all, huh? He must've slept through the whole thing. He sounds too tired. Or maybe he was just really bored.
"New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience," a lively voice called out, although you caught a hint of something scheming in his tone. He sounded like someone who would be a good example to his fellow classmates, but you couldn't shake the feeling that a hidden motive lingered beneath his words.
"Hey, does anyone know where the Headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony..." said a graceful voice, calm but curious.
"Some Headmage he is," a voice droned, monotone, almost mechanical, setting your teeth on edge.
"Maybe he had a tummyache?" a bright voice said, curious and concerned. You couldn't help but laugh quietly at the assumption.
"I most certainly did not!" cried the Headmage from your side. You finally looked up, hood still partially shading your face, catching sight of him and Grim, who squirmed helplessly in his tight grip.
"Ah, speak of the devil," the boy with red hair said. He must be the one who had been adamant about the rules earlier.
"If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show for orientation," the Headmage said, turning to you and gesturing toward the platform at the center. As you stepped closer, you noticed that the dorm houses they had mentioned—Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle—suddenly seemed familiar, names that resonated as if you had heard them before somewhere in passing.
"You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel." he said, snapping your attention toward the massive structure ahead.
Your feet stayed rooted to the floor. A cold hesitation crawled up your spine. You weren't supposed to be here—of that much you were certain—but the pressure in the room made retreat feel impossible. Do the ceremony, get it over with, and then... what? Walk out and declare you were "in the wrong location"? That sounded ridiculous even in your own head. And even if you tried, you didn't know how to get home from here.
Great. You'd have to figure that part out later.
Lost in your spiraling thoughts, you didn't notice the many eyes fixed on you—some confused, some curious, some almost sympathetic. You'd been spacing out a lot ever since you arrived, hadn't you?
"Ahem! If you please..." the Headmage cut in sharply, dragging you back to reality.
Before you could form a single word, a firm hand nudged you forward onto the platform. You stumbled, biting back the instinct to whirl around. Seeing their faces would only make this even more overwhelming.
You drew in a long, steadying breath and stepped toward the towering mirror. You had seen this mirror before, but this seems different. A face—or perhaps more like a mask—materialized within its depths, green flames blazing inside the glass. The sight made your pulse quicken. In your dream, the mirror had shown crests and golden ink swirling around you, though the mask had never appeared then.
Golden symbols flitted before your mind's eye—Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia. So those were the crests you had glimpsed in your dream, now given context by the students' dorms.
Then the mirror spoke—and your blood ran cold. It was the same voice from your dream.
"State your name." the Dark Mirror commanded.
You flinched, your voice catching. "I'm Y/N..."
"Y/N," it echoed, the deep tone vibrating through your bones.
A long, heavy pause followed. You could feel everyone watching, waiting. Expecting an answer you already knew wasn't coming.
Finally, the Dark Mirror spoke again.
"The nature of your soul is...unclear to me."
Your stomach twisted at the words, a cold knot of unease settling in your chest. The silence stretched, and for a moment, you couldn't even breathe, frozen under the piercing gaze of the green flames.
Noises rippled behind you—surprised gasps, murmurs, and whispers spreading like wildfire through the room.
"What did you just say?" the Headmage asked slowly, voice tight with disbelief.
The Dark Mirror glowed ominously as it delivered its final verdict.
"I sense no magical power from her. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate."
"Her..?!" the Headmage shouted in shock. His exclamation reverberated through the room, and the students inside went rigid, astonished.
The Headmage strode forward, pulling down your robe to reveal long, luscious hair and bright, vivid eyes. You spun around in surprise at his action. The room fell utterly silent. A girl of ethereal beauty, with delicate features that seemed almost otherworldly—right there in front of them—and yet they seem too stunned to react.
"O-okay... Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot even use magic?" he said, staring at the mirror, disbelief clear in his tone.
"But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! How could this have happened?" His confusion seemed to grow with every word.
While he panicked, you became acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes on your small frame—just for a moment. Your gaze swept over the students: a boy with red hair, a boy with short braids framing his face, a boy with light-grey hair and glasses, a boy with white hair and a turban-like headband, and a boy with light-blonde hair and a strikingly handsome face. You even noticed a floating tablet—something entirely new.
Then Grim saw his chance and wriggled in the Headmage's grip.
"Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... ME! Let ME have this student's seat!" he practically meowed, struggling.
"Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!" The Headmage yelled, tightening his grip.
With a mighty wiggle, he leapt from the Headmage's arms, landing in the center of the room. Blue flames danced along his tiny form.
"Myahh! Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!" he boasted, huffing and puffing flames in all directions.
The room erupted into chaos. Screams, shouting, and the crackle of flames surrounded you. Heart hammering, stomach twisting, you ducked behind a pillar, trying to keep yourself out of the worst of it. Sparks hissed around your hood as panic spread like wildfire through the room.
"Everyone, get down!" the boy with red hair yelled.
A small spark landed on the white-haired boy's back, igniting his garments.
"AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!" he screamed, running frantically as flames licked at him.
The Headmage spun in panic, surveying the room now alive with fire.
"Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!" he bellowed.
"Ugh. Can I go now, or...?" The boy with braids yawned, taking a seat on a chair that hadn't yet been scorched.
The handsome blonde leaned beside him. "Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!"
The boy only opened one eye lazily before snoozing again. "Too much effort. Do it yourself."
Everyone was running in frantic circles, trying to find the nearest exit as the room filled with smoke and blue flames. The sharp crackle of magic echoed off the walls, mixing with panicked shouts. Amid the chaos, the boy with glasses suddenly materialized at the Headmage's side—calm, collected, and looking terribly unbothered by the pandemonium around him.
"Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are up to the task of catching a small animal, I will accept the responsibility," he said, with the tone of someone offering to straighten a crooked picture frame, not chase down a fiery menace.
The floating tablet hovered behind him, bobbing lazily as a voice crackled through its speakers,
"WTG Azul. Rackin' up those participation credits."
Somewhere across the room, the boy with the turban screamed, spinning in frenetic circles as the flames on his clothes refused to die down.
"Hey, um, my butt's still on fire... Could someone maybe put this out?!"
"I'm sorry, were my instructions unclear?!" the Headmage barked, his voice breaking halfway between frustration and despair.
From the sidelines, the braided boy slumped deeper into a chair that miraculously hadn't caught fire.
"Preeetty sure you can handle catching one mangy weasel all on your lonesome there, headmage," he sighed, stretching like someone seconds away from napping.
"How many times do I gotta say it? I'm Grim, spellcaster extraordinaire! I am NOT a weasel!" the creature shrieked, blazing hotter by the second.
Flames danced across the floor, licking up tapestries and leaving charred trails. Grim darted between students' legs, his blue fire swirling behind him in erratic bursts. You could barely keep track of him—just flashes of light, claws, and indignation.
Despite your shock, your instincts kicked in when you spotted a large ball of flame barreling straight toward a student who wasn't paying attention.
Without thinking, you sprinted forward, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him out of the way. The fireball whooshed past as the two of you toppled to the ground.
"Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" you panted, finding yourself practically on top of him. Heat rushed to your cheeks as the student beneath you went stiff, face flushed for a completely different reason. He stuttered something you couldn't quite hear over the roar of flames.
You dusted yourself and him off, ushering him toward the exit before he could combust a second time.
When you turned back, Grim was being cornered by the red-haired boy and the one with glasses—moving with a precision that made it clear they'd done this sort of thing before.
"Aren't you a spunky little fellow? Riddle, would you be so kind...?" the light-grey haired boy said, stepping aside just enough for his partner.
"Furry miscreant. I will abide no rule-breaking. You will be judged by my hand," the redhead declared. So his name was Riddle. A unique name... fitting for someone who radiated authority.
Grim shrieked gleefully and puffed more flames into the air, the heat shimmering across the chamber.
"Check it! See how strong I am?!"
Riddle's wand flashed forward in a quick, practiced movement, a spell shooting toward Grim—only for him to hop out of the way with a smug snigger.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the creature gasped, dodging again.
"How very brazen of you to go on breaking the rules in my presence," Riddle said, unwavering.
The boy with glasses raised his own wand, its lavender glow swirling elegantly.
"Shall we make this quick, then? I'm afraid we don't have much time to spare."
They chased Grim through the burning chamber, spells crisscrossing in controlled bursts, until finally—
"Gah!" Grim squealed as a spell connected, singeing his fur.
"Must you relish playing with your quarry, Azul?" Riddle said, sounding mildly exasperated.
"Heh. And here I thought we were both the sort to enjoy this," Azul replied, adjusting his glasses with a sly glint.
"Please. I'm not like you, so spare me your drivel," Riddle huffed.
"Eeep!" Grim squeaked—then somehow wriggled between them, dashing off with a triumphant snicker as he narrowly escaped the corner they'd trapped him in.
The fire continued to spread. The room continued to burn.
You spotted the boy with the turban still running in frantic circles, flames licking at the back of his robes. Instinct overrode fear as you sprinted toward him.
"Stop! Stay still! Running around is only going to make things worse!" you shouted.
Your eyes darted around the room—nothing. No water, no blankets, nothing you could use to smother flames. So you chose the only option left.
You grabbed the fabric of his burning robes, tugged sharply, and tore the flaming garment off his back before the fire could spread. The immediate rush of heat singed your hands as you slammed the burning scrap to the floor, pinning it under your palm.
The boy froze where he stood, stunned—not just by the sudden help, but by you. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he stared, taking in your determined expression, your hair falling forward as you worked, your face illuminated by the flicker of dying flames.
"Ouch!" you hissed when a spark nipped the edge of your hand. Still, you forced your hand to hold the smoldering fabric flat against the stone until the last ember died and the smoke faded.
"Oh no, are you hurt?!" he cried, immediately grabbing your hand to check the burn, eyes wide with worry.
"It's okay! I'm fine," you reassured him, pulling back gently. "The fire's out. You're going to need a patch for your back, but you're safe now."
"Thank you..." he breathed, dazed, completely forgetting the chaos around him as he stared.
You ran off to check if there were any more students still trapped inside the room.
"Myah! It's a dead end!" the creature said, cornered once again by Riddle and Azul.
"Poor soul. Ran yourself straight into a corner, did you?" Azul said, twirling his wand, pointing it at him with an air of casual control.
"I suggest you surrender. Otherwise..." Riddle said, his wand steady and unwavering as he aimed at Grim.
"NO! I'm gettin' into this school, and that's FINAL!" Grim puffed up, launching balls of flames above him. One shot struck a chandelier dead center, sending shards of metal and crystal flying as it swayed violently above their heads. Sparks rained down, adding to the already frenzied chaos of the room. Students ducked, stumbled, and shouted over the din, trying to avoid falling debris and stray embers.
"Stand aside, Azul!" Riddle shouted sharply.
"MYAAAH!" Grim screamed in shock, scrambling under the flickering firelight.
A burst of red light shot from Riddle's wand, striking Grim squarely on the neck. A collar suddenly materialized, snapping around him in an instant.
"MYAH?! What are you doing?!" Grim shrieked, tugging desperately with his tiny paws, but the collar held fast.
"The Queen of Heart's Rule 23: 'One must never bring a cat to a formal affair.' Your very presence here is a violation of order. You will vacate these premises immediately," Riddle stated, his voice calm but commanding.
"But I ain't a cat either! Don't try to collar me! I'll burn it right off! Huh...? Wh-what gives? My fire ain't workin'!" Grim cried, trying and failing to ignite the collar.
"Until I deign to remove that collar, you won't be using any magic. You're naught but a pet cat now," Riddle said, crossing his arms.
"M-meoWHAT?! I ain't nobody's pet-NOTHING!" Grim yelled angrily, indignation flaring in every word.
"Oh, you've nothing to worry about there. I certainly have no interest in having you as a pet. The collar will disappear once you're removed from campus," Riddle added, narrowing his eyes.
"Ha-HA! Good show as always, Riddle. Your signature spell locks down any magic. It's quite handy. I've just got to have it—ah, I mean, I've just got to have respect for it," Azul said, stepping up beside Riddle, though a slight falter in his expression revealed the calculated care behind his words. You could see right through him—this was someone not to trust that easily.
You watched the scene unfold, both amazed and terrified. Magic you had only read about in books now danced violently in front of you—fireballs, sparks, and spells colliding in chaotic arcs. Riddle's control over the situation, Azul's calm efficiency, Grim's reckless defiance—it all combined into a spectacle that left your heart hammering. Smoke curled around the ceiling, embers floated lazily in the air, and the shouts and panicked movements of students filled the space with a frantic energy.
Your mind raced as you imagined the possibilities of this place. This wasn't the quiet, orderly world of your studies or private libraries. This was alive, wild, and unpredictable. Every flicker of magic, every burst of flame, hinted at just how vast and dangerous this school truly was.
You heard a snap from above. The chandelier was falling, bits of glass and metal spinning through the air.
"Riddle, watch out!" Azul yelled, eyes wide as he darted to the side, trying to anticipate its crash.
Riddle looked up, frozen in shock as the chandelier plummeted toward him. Before he could react, a weight hit him and knocked him to the floor. Blinking rapidly, he looked up to see who had landed on top of him—only to find the girl from earlier, her colored orbs shining with concern and worry as she panted from exhaustion.
"Are you okay?!" she gasped out.
Riddle was too stunned to speak, captivated by her presence. She stood, brushing dust off her clothes and offering her hand to him. After a moment, he took it and pulled himself up, a light blush creeping across his cheeks.
"I'm alright... Thank you for saving me," he said, glancing to the side, trying to avoid her eyes while crossing his arms.
The Headmage approached, his frustration evident.
"Y/N! Was I not clear that you are expected to take responsibility for your familiar? Now discipline your—"
"He's not mine for goodness' sake!" you interrupted, voice raspy from shouting over the chaos to keep everyone safe.
"What's that? It isn't yours?" he paused, looking at you in confusion and surprise.
"I've told you repeatedly that it isn't mine!" you said, exasperated.
"Oh...Is that so? Then I shall have it expelled from campus. I shall even spare it from being served as dinner. My, but I AM kind. ...Someone take this away, please." The Headmage called, and staff members came in to remove the poor creature.
"Nooooo! Let me gooooo!" Grim yelled as he was dragged away, his final words echoing through the room.
"You fools better remember my name! Cause I'm gonna go down in the annals of magic history! Just you wait!"
You watched the door, feeling a pang of worry.
"I feel kind of sorry for him," you whispered to yourself.
"Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms," the Headmage announced.
"Y/N, please stay with me as we have important matters to discuss regarding your... predicament," he told you, and you nodded along.
He paused, hand on his chin, looking puzzled.
"...Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere," he noted, earning awkward looks from the other housewardens.
"And that surprises you? Dude's a total recluse," the boy with braids yawned, voice lazy.
"Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?" the boy with the turban asked, tone curious.
"If you're that worried about him missing out, maybe you should have told him yourself," the boy with light-blonde hair said, lightly sarcastic.
"Maybe, but I don't know him too well either..." the white-haired boy admitted, a twinge of guilt in his voice.
The crowd murmured, whispers ricocheting across the room.
"Draconia... Like, Malleus Draconia? THAT Draconia?" one student asked.
"So it's true? He really does go to school here?" another whispered.
"Yikes," someone shivered.
"Ah. Just as I'd expected. I figured I'd come down and see for myself whether Malleus had made an appearance. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony," a deep voice cut through the chatter. It belonged to a short boy with pink highlights in his hair.
"You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was in no way intended as a snub," Azul bowed to him.
"I mean, you must admit, he's not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with," Riddle added, unease flickering in his voice.
"No matter. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn't sulk about this," the short boy said, gesturing to the students of that house.
The crowd began to disperse as they exited the Mirror Chamber.
"Hey!!!" yelled the boy with white hair, running toward you at high speed. He took both your hands in his as he shook them vigorously with excitement.
"Thank you for saving me! I owe you one, pretty miss!" he smiled at you, eyes shining with genuine admiration.
"It's no problem... I was only trying to help. Please take care of yourself," you uttered, taking both hands from his grasp as you bowed with graceful courtesy. He noticed your bow and straightened, returning the gesture and bowing in turn, though not before taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it.
His actions made your cheeks warm. No one had ever done something so sincere for you before. Most had acted out of formality, but this felt genuine. Your heart fluttered briefly at the unexpected intimacy.
The other housewardens noticed the interaction, the boy's enthusiasm drawing their attention. The handsome boy approached, his gloved hand gently lifting your chin.
"Your face looks so delicate and doll-like. Once you're done with whatever meeting you have with that Crowley, come find me and I'll give you a makeover. This makeup on you seems okay, but we could improve it a bit," he said, his tone gentle yet teasing, clearly captivated by your features.
You felt your face heat up at his close proximity. From this closer view, it was evident that he was strikingly handsome. After a moment, he let go and turned to exit the room.
"Kalim! You shouldn't run off like that. The new students are already heading to the dormitories. Let's go!" called a voice. Following him was another boy with a long ponytail, braids decorating the left side of his hair.
"Oh, okay! Till we meet again, pretty miss! You should come to Scarabia some time! We can have a huge party there!" Kalim smiled, releasing your hands.
“Kalim!!” The boy yelled, pulling him by his wrist.
You smiled and waved in return. He stuttered slightly as his companion tugged at his robes, practically being dragged towards the door.
Riddle approached you next, and for a moment, you worried he might be upset. Instead, he patted your head gently.
"Thank you for what you did earlier... I should have been more careful of my surroundings... but thank you for saving me. That was very brave of you..." he muttered, his gaze averted from your teasing eyes.
"You're welcome. I'm just glad that you're okay is all..." you replied with a small curtsy, manners intact despite the chaos.
"I must be off. Thank you again..." he said, turning toward his mirror before stepping through it.
Once everyone had left the Mirror Chamber, only you and the Headmage remained.
Breathless, you sank to the floor for a brief moment, surveying the smoke-filled chamber. The shards of glass glinted in the dim magical light, and somewhere in the distance, Grim's muffled squawks faded.
"Well, Y/N. This is a most unfortunate turn of events. I'm afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I cannot very well admit a student with no magical ability to my academy," he said, placing a small hand on your back as you walked together toward the Dark Mirror.
"But worry not. The Dark Mirror will see you safely home. Now, step onto the platform, and visualize the place you whence you came," he instructed, gesturing to the center.
"What a long dream this was," you murmured, voice laced with tiredness. You closed your eyes, imagining the cozy life in your cottage near the lake, the gentle ripples of water, and the warm sunlight filtering through trees.
"O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!" the Headmage's voice echoed within the room.
"Ahem... L-let us, er... try this again. O Dark Mirror! Return this soul—"
"There is no such place," the Dark Mirror declared.
"...What?" the Headmage whispered in disbelief.
"There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. None." It bellowed.
"How can that be? My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena!" he cried, shocked.
Turning to you, he asked, "This has never happened throughout my long tenure. I must confess that I am at something of a loss. Tell me: From what land do you hail?"
"I'm from Vesperia. It's a kingdom located in the south of this country," you replied.
"Vesperia? I haven't heard of that kingdom before..." he pondered aloud.
"What...? What do you mean?" you asked, turning in shock.
"I haven't had a student enrolled here from that kingdom you mentioned. I'm afraid I am not familiar with such a place. I am intimately acquainted with the origins of every student who has ever come here, and yet... this mysterious homeland of yours eludes me," he said, curiosity evident in his tone.
"Let us go to the library and look it up, shall we?" the Headmage suggested, and you followed him back, your mind still reeling from the events in the Mirror Chamber.
You both rummaged through the library, scanning shelf after shelf. Books, scrolls, and maps were sprawled across the long tables, some stacked haphazardly as you flipped through them frantically. Every corner of the room seemed to hold something, yet nothing—no map, no chart, no record—showed any trace of your homeland.
"Just as I'd suspected. Nothing. Not only is your homeland not listed on any map from any point in history," the Headmage sighed, exasperated, rolling up another map and tucking it away.
"Now, are you QUITE sure that you come from such a place? That wasn't some sort of lie, or jape?" he asked, leaning forward, curiosity sharpening his tone.
"Please believe me. I know my homeland and its locations by heart. Looking at these different maps, I couldn't find any traces of them," you said softly, worry furrowing your brow.
"Because if so... The only explanation is that you've come from another planet. Or perhaps you were summoned here from another dimension?" he murmured, as if thinking aloud.
"A-another dimension..?!" you exclaimed, slamming your hands lightly on the table in shock.
"Show me everything that you brought here with you. Do you have some form of identification, a driver's license perhaps? Or even a... shoe? You do seem a tad bit... empty-handed," he continued, raising an eyebrow.
"D-driver's license? I'm not familiar with what that is, but I only have my satchel with me..." you muttered.
"Wait! Is my coffin still there? I think I left it inside..." you added, a hint of worry in your voice.
"Let's return to the Mirror Chamber," he said, standing and gesturing for you to follow.
Back in the chamber, you went straight to the coffin. Relief washed over you when you found your satchel safely stored inside. Carefully, you rummaged through it and displayed its contents: your swivel-seal ring, a charm bracelet vial, a banker's bar, a weighted pouch, a girdle-pouch with gear-lock, a needlework scroll, a Sunstone brooch, a hairpin dart, an earpiece jewel, a pocket flint igniter—and finally, your ring bearing your kingdom's symbol.
"These are all I have with me..." you said softly, worry still shadowing your expression.
"Well, this is quite the predicament. I cannot have someone with no aptitude for magic bumbling about my magic academy," he remarked. The weight of his words hit you, and for a moment, panic set in. No magic. No way home. You were utterly unprepared for this strange new world.
But the Headmage's voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.
"And yet, as an educator, I am loath to expel a young person without a cent to their name, or any ability to contact their guardian... Truly, my grace is boundless," he said, his tone lightening as if to reassure you. You exhaled a long, trembling sigh of relief.
"Thank you, sir!" you said, bowing deeply in gratitude.
"No need to thank me, my dear! Now let's see... Hmmmm... Ah! There is a vacant building on this campus. It was, in fact, used as a dorm a long time ago. With proper cleaning, it should be habitable enough. Out of the profound kindness of my heart, I will allow you to live there for the time being," he said, a pleased expression softening his features.
"In the meantime, we will investigate other ways to send you home. Dear me, but I am a gracious man indeed! A model educator, one might say. Well then, I shall take you to your dorm straight away. It is an older building, but it has plenty of... character, one might say," he added, a slight hesitation betraying the care with which he chose his words. A vacant building? Your temporary dorm sounded promising, but a small voice in your head warned you: unoccupied does not mean safe.
You didn't know whether to be thankful or afraid of whoever had brought you to this world. On one hand, you were relieved to have escaped your family, free from their constant watch, free from their expectations. On the other, you were now trapped in an unfamiliar realm where magic flowed freely through the air, through everyone around you.
You would have to make use of your time here, though a quiet voice inside warned that a return to your old life might not come anytime soon.
One girl steps forward… and the threads of fate twist around her.
⋅•●⋅ ✶ ─── {⋅. ❧ .⋅} ─── ✶ ⋅●•⋅
— 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐡! 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐭! 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥! 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫! 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬! 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!
⋅•●⋅ ✶ ─── {⋅. ❧ .⋅} ─── ✶ ⋅●•⋅
