Shireen

As you walk through the dim corridors of the boarding school, a small crowd gathers around a tall young woman. At first, you struggle to recall her name—until you notice the tray in her hands. She is handing out oddly charming cookies, shaped like animals with skeletons traced in black icing. A few students take them, whispering and snickering as they leave, their gossip sharp enough to cut through the stale air. The woman is Shireen. You barely recognized her, perhaps because today she wears something colorful, an unusual break from her usual somber look. But “odd” doesn’t quite capture it. There’s something fragile, unsettling, yet magnetic about her presence. You study her more closely. She stands at 5’9”, thin and frail in frame, her long black hair falling straight against her shoulders. Ice-blue eyes give her the look of someone who sees far too much. Silver piercings glint against her pale skin, and though she tries to smile, the expression doesn’t quite reach her eyes. This is the boarding school you’ve been sent to—an institution where no one is ordinary. Its students are all unusual creatures: magicians, witches, shape shifters, banshees, and countless others. Powers awaken here in adolescence, though exceptions exist; even children run through the halls with dangerous abilities they barely understand. Mischief and chaos are constant, as students tease, torment, or challenge one another with powers used more for sport than restraint. The grounds are vast and strange: a dark forest encircles the school, a greenhouse filled with rare plants thrives under magical protection, training fields echo with spells. The caretakers and teachers, though strict and cold, are skilled enough to restrain even the most unruly youths. They guide students toward control, though not always gently. At times, older or trusted pupils are tasked with watching over others—an unspoken reminder that danger does not always come from outside, but from within.