Page 11 of Magical Mayhem


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One woman leaned close to me, whispering, “Do we get one of these in the dormitories?”

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. “No. Absolutely not.”

Still, as I watched them marvel and chatter, I felt something loosen in my chest. This was what the Academy needed: laughter, wonder, a little chaos that didn’t carry malice.

For a few blessed moments, the world beyond the Wards could wait.

Chapter Four

The bramble mule basked in attention as though it had been born for the stage, but the longer I stood there, the more my skin prickled.

Something about the mule was… off.

Its eyes were too sharp, not soft and liquid like an ordinary creature’s, but crystalline, with amber facets that caught the light and threw it back in ways that felt unnatural. And while the garlands seemed cheerful enough, some of the blossoms wilted and revived in the span of seconds, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Granted, I’d never seen a bramble mule before.

I forced my smile to stay in place, but my magic buzzed under my skin, uneasy.

Twobble, meanwhile, leaned against a tree stump, arms crossed smugly as if he’d orchestrated the entire spectacle.

“Well, look at that,” he declared loudly. “First day of summer session, and the Academy already has its first attraction. It won’t be long before we’re running a petting zoo. Tickets, two dollars. Snacks extra.”

The students laughed, clapping their hands, one of them even pulling out a coin pouch with a grin.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled.

“You might be right, Twobble. At this rate, we’ll be bottle-feeding unicorn foals by autumn.”

“Finally!” he exclaimed, puffing out his chest. “A proper job for me.Zookeeper. I’ll even wear a hat.”

The laughter bubbled higher, and for a moment, the worry loosened its grip on my chest. The mule tossed its head, showering the air with flowers like confetti, and the students oohed and ahhed, delighted.

But then the forest beyond caught me.

At the far edge of the clearing, where the path bent toward the Wilds, the trees stood unnaturally still. Not a breeze stirred their branches, and the shadows pooled too deep, blacker than they should have been in early afternoon light.

And something in me pulled toward it. A thread, invisible but undeniable, tugging low in my chest like a hook set in my ribs.

I stiffened, breath catching.

The Wilds had always thrummed with their own strange music, but this was different. This felt personal.

“Hey!” Twobble squawked, earning another round of laughter from the students.

I slipped backward, weaving between satchels, until I reached the clearing’s edge.

“What is all this?” Ardetia’s eyes narrowed as her gaze landed on the bramble mule.

Her voice took me aback.

“Chaos incarnate,” I called back lightly, though my voice wobbled. “Compliments of the Wilds.”

Ardetia tilted her head, studying the creature with an intensity that made even the students quiet. “I have not seen its kind before.”

Nova frowned, staff tapping once against the ground. “It does not belong here.”

The students gasped at that, but the mule only flicked its ears, entirely unconcerned because it was here, regardless.