Just outside Arctha's window, the courtyard buzzed with energy. Students darted between classes, their robes billowing behind them. A group of first-years huddled together, trying—and failing—to summon sparks from their fingertips, while a senior strolled past, casually levitating a flaming sword. The blade flipped end over end like it was weightless, and for a brief moment, Arctha wondered how hard it would be to accidentally impale herself and get sent home.
Probably wouldn't work. They'd just heal her and send her to Etiquette class anyway.
Her door creaked open. Arctha bolted upright, pillow half-stuck to her face. A girl walked in without knocking, arms crossed. She looked like she had stepped straight out of a royal portrait—tall, elegant, with sharp cheekbones and an air of authority that screamed teacher's favorite. Her silver hair was pulled into a braid so tight it could probably cut glass.
"You're the new princess?" the girl asked, voice dripping with skepticism.
Arctha groaned. "Nope. I'm just an unfortunate bystander who got kidnapped and dropped into a fantasy novel while a wannabe god played dice with my life. Happens all the time. Total mix-up."
The girl didn't blink. "Right. Well, I'm Lady Seraphina Voss. First rank. Top of my class." She tilted her head, giving Arctha a slow once-over.
"Are you the maid?" Arctha asked with a sweet smile, even though she knew the answer. Of course, the girl wasn't a maid—but something about her was already getting on Arctha's nerves. Why did she have to look so perfect? And why was she waking her up about school?
"No. I'm your guide. And today, you're supposed to attend the hall for inauguration."
"Yeah, no."
"You have to get up."
Arctha let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, how I love first days of school," she muttered, dragging herself to the bathroom. The academy's enchanted bath system whirred to life, and suddenly, something in her head chimed:
[Witch System Installation Complete.]
She froze. Oh no. Not you again.
The gauntlet on her arm shimmered for a brief moment before fading.
Ohhh, the devil works in mysterious ways, she thought.
"I am no devil," a voice replied in her mind.
Arctha clenched her fists. Great. Now I have a talking accessory.
Determined to ignore it, she got dressed and walked back out, only to hear the system chime again:
[Mission: Do Not Be Found Out.]
[Failure: Discovery as a Witch → Trial → Execution by Fire.]
She stopped in her tracks. Oh, fantastic. A game of 'Hide the Witch' where the prize is not getting burned alive. Stupid, stupid system.
She grabbed at the gauntlet, trying to yank it off. No luck. It clung to her arm like a parasite.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the dorm and asked her guide, "Hey, quick question—what happens to people falsely accused of witchcraft here?"
Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "Falsely? Pfft. People in this kingdom will accuse their own grandmothers of witchcraft if it gets them out of paying rent."
"Great," Arctha muttered.
"Why do you ask?"
"No reason," she said quickly. "Just, you know, making small talk. Totally normal, not-at-all suspicious small talk."
They made their way to the Great Hall. The banners of Starlight Spell Academy hung from the high ceiling, which reflected the twilight sky above. Students gathered at four long tables, their chatter buzzing like an electric current.
At the front of the room, a group of professors sat in ornate chairs, and at the center of them all was Headmaster Eldrin—a rotund man with a booming voice, a beard long enough to brush the floor, and a belly that nearly stretched across the table.
"Welcome to Starlight Spell Academy!" he bellowed. "Tonight, we begin our new year with the Inauguration Ceremony!"
Arctha narrowed her eyes. Please don't be like one of those weird fraternity things. Please don't make me do a blood oath or chant in a basement.
The Headmaster cleared his throat. "Now, as some of you may be aware, we have an Ise among us."
A murmur spread through the hall. Some students made disgusted faces. Others looked on with thinly veiled curiosity.
Arctha, utterly lost, leaned toward Seraphina. "Ise?"
Seraphina whispered back, "Outsider. Non-magic born. Some people think they're cursed."
"Oh, good. Love that for me."
Eldrin continued, "Now, before anyone gets any ideas—yes, we all know their parents were cowards who sent them away while we fought and eradicated every last witch in agony, ridding this world of their evil."
Arctha swallowed hard. Ohhh no. Oh no no no.
"But these children had no choice in the matter," Eldrin finished.
Arctha forced a smile and nodded along, while inside, she was internally panicking.
The students clapped. She clapped too. Everyone stared at her.
"And now," Eldrin said, "it is time to reveal your magical affinities."
Her stomach dropped.
"Well, most of you know the deal," Eldrin said, eyes locking onto her.
Her heartbeat pounded. Oh no. Oh no. They're going to find out. They're going to find out I'm a witch, and then it'll be a trial, a stake, a fire, and—"Hey, let's turn the new girl into a bonfire!"
What a hell of a way to bond.
[System Alert: Sweating Profusely Detected. Please Remain Calm.]
"Oh, shut up," she hissed under her breath.
Eldrin smiled. "After this, you will receive three weeks of instruction before your first trial. If you fail…" He clicked his tongue. "Well, if you're from here, you go home. If you're an Ise…" He let the words hang ominously.
Arctha forced another grin. "First day at the academy, and I've already learned something important… how to nod like I understand while internally panicking!"
She could already tell—this was going to be a very long year… or a slow, drawn-out, and painfully unfair one.
"Why don't witches ever panic at the stake?"
"Because they know how to keep their cool—even when things heat up!"
Well, then why aren't I keeping cool? Is it because I know I'm the main character with plot armor?
Her chest tightened as her heartbeat pounded, but she kept her head forward, forcing herself to focus on Headmaster Eldrin.