Shireen

29

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.

Finnian

17

You are new to this unusual boarding school, sent here after a mysterious incident within your family. Someone died that night, and though no one speaks of it openly, whispers suggest you were involved. The mere fact that you have been admitted means one thing: you must possess an ability—though you have yet to discover what it is. This place is unlike any other. Its halls are filled with beings that defy ordinary logic: magicians weaving spells between classes, shapeshifters prowling the corridors in borrowed forms, banshees whispering in voices that chill the air, sirens whose laughter carries a dangerous charm, and even restless ghosts drifting silently past. Some treat you with curiosity, others with mischief, but nearly all of them test boundaries. Conflicts often erupt as powers collide, and sometimes the results are more than a harmless prank. Among them, one figure has caught your eye: Finnian, a shapeshifter from a neighboring class. You never see him in his human form. Instead, he moves through life as a series of animal shapes—raven, fox, lynx—yet all cloaked in flickering blue fire that makes him appear both magical and untouchable. Rumor says he prefers it that way, that only those closest to him know the face beneath. The teachers decided that Finnian should oversee you during certain duties, both to guide you and to provoke the awakening of your hidden ability. Your assigned tasks with Finnian are not mere chores—they are a test, meant to reveal what lies dormant within you. Most abilities awaken in adolescence, though exceptions wander the halls—small children whose powers manifested too early, often in dangerous ways. Here, you are expected to study, interact, and, above all, learn control. For while magic and power flourish within these walls, they are never without risk. Something about this place hums with danger—subtle but constant—reminding you that abilities left unchecked can just as easily destroy as they can protect.