Orion waves my gratitude away. “She’s a nightmare on the best of days. Ignore her. The important point is that she’s gone and you’re here. Between me, Wylder, and the instructors here at Arcana, we’re going to whip you into Poppy Hallowind, spirit witch of the century.”
Wylder doesn’t seem to share his optimism. Instead, he gestures deeper inside the common area of the dorm. “This is your home base. Dorm Cluster Nine.”
I step into a large hexagonal common room that feels both ancient and somehow modern. Soft couches line the edges, their cushions slightly depressed as if inviting tired bodies. A floating chandelier casts amber light across the space, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.
In one corner, a kitchenette features unique faucets with settings labeled for water, coffee, tea, broth, and juice. Next to it stands a stone hearth with flames that dance without fuel.
The opposite corner houses a wide, wooden worktable beneath an apothecary wall lined with jars of dried herbs and plants.
Soft music plays from nowhere and everywhere. Wylder flicks his wrist, and it falls silent. “The bathroom is through there,” he says, nodding toward a curtained archway. “It’s co-ed, but privacy enchantments activate when you enter.”
Seven doors line the outer walls of the common room, each etched with a unique rune. Wylder taps on the screen of a tablet and walks me past them, pointing.
“As the senior advisor to the dorm, I’ll be in room one. That one’s Kieran’s: earth magic and trust issues. That’s Fallon’s room: weather witch. She’ll test you before she trusts you. Don’t touch Neve’s kettle, or her books. This one’s Rowan’s: cursecraft and shadow manipulation. Steer clear of her unless you wantFlaming Gonorrheaor some other horrific hex placed on you. Orion, you’re here, and next door is you, Poppy.”
I pick up my bag from where I’d dropped it on the floor and open the door to check out my room.
The space inside is nothing like what I expected. When Amber grabbed her stuff, the room looked like someone had vomited pink leopard print in every direction.
This room is decorated in soft lavender and gray. A twin bed sits against one wall, covered in linens that somehow smell like the fabric softener we use at home. A small desk holdsan iPad next to several books with titles like “Beginner’s Guide to Magical Theory” and “Spirit Magic: Understanding Your Affinity.”
A built-in closet reveals training uniforms and what looks like formal robes, all in my size. Above the door frame, magical script etches itself into the wood:Poppy Hallowind.
I drop my duffel bag on the bed and stand there, uncertain what to do next.
Orion comes back from dropping his bag next door and lingers in the doorway. “Do you want to explore or sit up and wait for our roomies to return?”
I sigh. “I appreciate the effort, but I think I’m peopled out. I don’t know that I can take anymore hate energy being flung at me like flaming dog shit.”
Orion nods. “Understandable. Try to get some rest. And you’re right. It’s probably going to feel like the world is coming at you from all sides for a bit.”
“Oh, so just another day in the life of me, then.” My attempt at humor lands somewhere closer to bitterness. “Perfect.”
“I’m just next door if you need anything, and Wylder is our senior advisor, so you can call on him, too.”
Yeah, no, I’d rather swallow flaming swords.I give Orion a smile filled with all the energy I have left. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for giving a shit.”
Orion knocks his knuckles against the trim on my door, concern flickering across his face before he steps back and pulls the door closed.
The click of the latch echoes in the sudden silence. I exhale shakily and sink onto the edge of the bed. My knees bounce. My fingers twitch with nervous energy.
I bury my face in my hands. The silence feels both welcome and crushing after the chaos of the day. Unfortunately, withoutinput from my surroundings, my chaotic thoughts stir up the comments from the Guardian.
“She carries the echo of a broken oath… The mark of a demon clings to her bones...”
The weight of it all crashes down at once: the Guardian’s attack, Briar’s thinly veiled threats, the judgment of everyone in the Wiccan world, and most of all, the prospect of living among strangers who already see me as a dangerous enemy.
I pull the pillow to my chest and curl around it. I don’t cry, but it’s a close thing. My eyes burn with exhaustion, fear, and sheer disorientation.
For five years, I burned with the need to learn who I was.
Now, I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
Outside my window, the muted cry of some unseen creature pierces the night and I shiver, feeling more lost and alone than ever before.
I jolt awake to the sound of whispers seeping into my room. Not from Orion’s room, from the common area. My brain struggles to shake off sleep, each word gradually becoming clearer.
“…never should have been admitted. Did you see the Guardian’s reaction?”
