Lyra
5
0Brandon never liked mornings at Riverstone High. The moment he stepped through the front doors, whispers followed him like shadows. “Loser,” someone muttered. A group of kids at the lockers laughed as one of them tripped him on purpose. His books scattered across the floor, and as Brandon scrambled to pick them up, a sneaker stomped on his math notebook.
“Careful, Crawfish,” sneered Tyler, the school’s biggest bully. “Wouldn’t want you to cry to the teachers again.”
Brandon kept his head down, clutching his books tightly. He wanted to disappear.
That afternoon, desperate to avoid another hallway ambush, Brandon took a shortcut through an old alley on his way home. That’s when he saw it—lying beside a rusted dumpster, glowing faintly under the dim light of dusk. A backpack.
It was unlike anything he’d ever seen—sleek black leather with silver zippers, and a strange symbol stitched on the front: a star intertwined with wings. When he touched it, the zipper opened on its own.
“Finally,” said a soft, female voice
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