Chapter 7

Freya POV

The Headmaster's office was enormous. Not just big—enormous, in a way that defied the physical dimensions of the building we'd entered. The ceiling soared at least thirty feet overhead, lost in shadow despite the soft blue glow emanating from a massive magical construct that dominated the center of the space.

The walls themselves were lined with bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, packed so tightly with volumes that I couldn't see the wall behind them. Ancient leather-bound tomes with cracked spines and faded gilt lettering sat alongside scrolls in languages I didn't recognize.

Here and there, strange objects were displayed on the shelves—a crystal that pulsed with internal light, a small statue that seemed to be watching me, a jar containing something that moved despite the lack of visible contents.

In the center of the room, beneath the rotating star map, sat a massive desk made of dark wood that looked like it had been carved from a single tree. Papers and leather-bound journals were stacked neatly on its surface, alongside what looked like a brass telescope, an ornate inkwell, and several objects I couldn't identify.

And behind the desk, rising from a high-backed chair, was an elderly man who could only be the Headmaster.

He was exactly what I would have imagined a wizard headmaster to look like, if I'd been asked to imagine one before today. Long white hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. A perfectly trimmed white beard that reached halfway down his chest. Black robes that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, with a gold pocket watch chain glinting at his chest.

He looked old—not frail, but old in the way that ancient trees are old, with a kind of weight and presence that had nothing to do with physical age.

His eyes, when they fixed on me, were sharp and assessing, but not unkind. There was warmth there, something that reminded me oddly of my grandfather before he'd passed away when I was ten.

I stood frozen under that gaze, acutely aware of how small I was in this enormous room, how utterly out of place. Edward had moved to stand slightly behind and to my left, his posture respectful but alert.

The Headmaster studied me for a few seconds. Then he smiled, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes, and gestured toward two chairs that materialized out of thin air in front of his desk.

"Welcome to Moordale Academy, Miss Freya Granger." His voice was deep and rich, with a slight British accent that reminded me of documentary narrators. "I am Cornelius Blackthorn, the Headmaster. Please, sit."

The chairs slid forward on their own, positioning themselves perfectly for us to sit. I glanced at Edward, who gave a slight nod and sat down with practiced ease. I followed suit, perching on the edge of my seat and gripping the armrests lightly.

Headmaster Blackthorn settled back into his own chair, steepling his fingers. "I know you must have many questions, Miss Granger. And I know that recent events that happened to you have been... overwhelming."

Overwhelming. That was one word for it. Completely reality-shattering might have been more accurate.

"I also know," he continued, his tone gentler now, "that you are confused about why you were chosen. Perhaps even doubtful that we have found the right person."

I found my voice, though it came out smaller and more uncertain than I would have liked. "But I can't do anything, Headmaster. If you know what I mean. I don't have magic. I can't even—I don't even know how your world works. I'm nobody. I'm just—I'm just me."

The words tumbled out in a rush, all the fear and confusion and desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd realize they'd grabbed the wrong person and I could go home.

Headmaster Blackthorn's expression didn't change. He let the silence settle for a moment, as if giving my words the weight they deserved, before he spoke again.

"Your doubt is understandable, Miss Granger. In fact, it would be concerning if you felt otherwise." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady on mine.

"But I must tell you something that this Academy has learned over many centuries: The Dawn Revelation has guided us through every crisis we have faced. It has named protectors when darkness threatened to consume us, and it has never—not once in our recorded history—chosen incorrectly."

He paused, letting that sink in, then continued in a softer tone. "You were chosen not because of what you can do now, but because of what you have the potential to become. From today forward, Edward will arrange for you to begin your magical education. The abilities within you will awaken in time. They must, for the prophecy has chosen you, and that is a fact none of us can change. Only you possess the power to stand against Zaroth."

I blinked. "Zaroth?"

For the first time, something flickered in the Headmaster's expression—a shadow of something darker, more serious.

"The Abyssal Lord. The source of the corruption that threatens both our worlds." He rose from his chair, moving to stand by one of the tall windows that overlooked the floating islands, his hands clasped behind his back. "But these are matters we will discuss in greater detail once you have settled in and begun your studies."

He turned back to face us, and the weight of whatever he'd just mentioned seemed to lift slightly from his shoulders. "For now, you need rest more than answers. You need safety, and time to adjust to all of this."

I nodded mutely, grateful that he wasn't going to dump more impossible information on me tonight.

"You will be residing in the Obsidian Annex," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact now. "It is one of our dormitory buildings. I hope you can adjust to life at the Academy as soon as possible."

I nodded again, though I had no idea what he meant by that.

I glanced at Edward, hoping for some kind of reaction that might tell me what to expect, and caught something I hadn't seen before—a flicker of recognition in his eyes, like he knew exactly what the Headmaster was talking about.

His posture hadn't changed, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there a moment ago, as if the name of the building meant something specific to him.

Headmaster Blackthorn's gaze shifted to Edward. "Edward also resides in the Obsidian Annex. He will ensure your safety."

Edward's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he nodded slightly.

"Good." Blackthorn turned his attention fully to Edward. "Now, Edward, you may escort Miss Granger to her room in the Obsidian Annex. She has had a long day and needs rest."

Edward straightened slightly and gave a short nod. "Yes, Headmaster."

Headmaster Blackthorn's gaze returned to me, and his smile softened. "Go on, child. Get some rest. Tomorrow, your new life begins in earnest."

I stood up on, my mind still trying to process everything I'd just heard. Zaroth. The Abyssal Lord. Corruption threatening both worlds. Magical education. The Obsidian Annex.

None of it made sense. All of it was terrifying.

But as I followed Edward toward the door, one thought crystallized in my mind with perfect clarity:

I didn't have a choice anymore. Whatever was coming, whatever they expected me to become, I was stuck on this path now. My old life was gone. My family didn't remember me. I existed in a world where dragons were real and magic was commonplace and ancient evil gods threatened to destroy everything.

The Headmaster had been kind, reassuring even, but that didn't change the fundamental truth: I was completely, utterly out of my depth.

So I might as well try to survive it.

Even if I had no idea how.