Iris's POV

Turning eighteen is supposed to be exciting.

In the cramped, stuffy attic, I sat at my old desk, sticking candles into a cake.

I'd bought the cake with three months of part-time wages. Strawberry-flavored. It looked cheap, but it was all mine.

Carefully, I placed a small photo frame across from me.

In the picture, a woman smiled warmly while a man's arm wrapped around her shoulders. Behind them stood this house, before the renovation.

I looked at them and whispered, "Mom, Dad. I'm an adult now."

A sudden cheer erupted downstairs, making the attic floor tremble. Even through two stories, my Aunt Martha Langley's booming voice came through crystal clear.

"Chloe! Come cut your cake! Stop messing around with your friends!"

Chloe Vance was my cousin. Right now, she was throwing her birthday party downstairs.

She was probably surrounded by a dozen classmates, singing 'Happy Birthday.'

By comparison, I looked pretty pathetic.

But I didn't feel sorry for myself. I'd faced too much unfairness growing up—I was used to it. Besides, I preferred being alone anyway.

Candles in place, I was about to light them when Aunt Martha's voice rang out again: "Iris! Where the hell are you? Get down here and clean up! All you do is slack off. I swear, I'd rather have a dog—at least a dog knows how to wag its tail!"

My fingers paused. I took a deep breath and called back, "Coming!"

When I turned around, I saw something impossible.

A gray-and-white seagull had somehow landed on my desk. It strutted right across my cake.

Pink frosting clung to its beak. The strawberry was half-eaten.

The seagull noticed me watching. It cocked its head, and in its beady black eyes, I saw something disturbingly human.

"Sorry about your cake, but honestly? You wouldn't have enjoyed it anyway. The strawberry's sour."

My brain went blank for a solid two seconds.

Did it just... talk?

A bird? Talking!

"You... you can talk?" I stared at it like it was a monster.

"Yeah, I can talk. It's not that big a deal." The seagull confirmed matter-of-factly, then kicked at a rolled parchment by its feet. "I also deliver mail. Congratulations—you've been accepted to Bliston Academy of Magic."

It said it so casually that I couldn't process it at first. I just stared blankly at the parchment.

The yellowed scroll was tied with a deep blue ribbon, sealed with silver wax stamped with the image of a soaring eagle.

Of course I recognized that symbol. It was the crest of the greatest magical institution in the world—Bliston Academy.

Magic existed in this world. That was a fact written in textbooks from childhood.

Three hundred years ago, the Magical Era merged with the Human Era. Wizards, witches, and magical creatures stepped out of legend and became part of society.

Cities had Departments of Magical Affairs. Hospitals employed healers. The news occasionally reported on policy updates from the Ministry of Magic.

Major magical academies held annual admissions, training generation after generation of great wizards.

But to me, it had always been a fairy tale. I was just an ordinary person. No one in my family for three generations had been a wizard. My parents died the year I was born. The only magical item I'd ever touched was a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Why would Bliston Academy accept someone like me—a Muggle? That was the greatest magical academy. Some magical families started applying before their children were even born. If a child's magical aptitude didn't measure up, no amount of connections could get them in.

My heart pounded with shock and a flicker of hope. My trembling hand touched the wax seal.

As if enchanted, the ribbon loosened on its own. Ink-blue letters appeared line by line across the parchment:

Iris Vance:

Following review by the Academy Admissions Committee, you have been accepted as a spring-term incoming student on special consideration.

Enclosed please find your enrollment guide and required items list.

Please report to the Academy by January15th.

Bliston Academy of Magic

Director of Admissions

M. Therin

At the bottom was an animated seal—the eagle slowly beat its wings across the page.

I stared at that line three times. It really did say my name. I'd actually been accepted!

The seagull's teasing voice broke through my daze. "Heads up—don't be late. The Academy's strict about punctuality. Last year, some kid showed up three minutes late and got his robes caught in the castle gates. Hung there for two hours."

I opened my mouth to ask more about the Academy when heavy footsteps suddenly pounded up the stairs.

"Iris! How many times do I have to call you? Are you deaf? The guests are gone and you're still up here hiding! You think you're some kind of princess?"

With a crash, the attic door slammed open.

Aunt Martha stood in the doorway. Her eyes landed on me, then locked onto the parchment in my hand.

"What is that?" Her voice changed. Greed flickered across her face.

I immediately hid the parchment behind my back. "Nothing."

"Hand it over!"

Watching her massive body lunge toward me, I scrambled backward.

The seagull had somehow hopped onto the windowsill. It cocked its head, watching the show.

I tried to keep my voice steady. "Aunt Martha, it's just a notice from my school."

"Don't play games with me." Aunt Martha's eyes narrowed, her tone vicious. "You think I don't know what that is? I've seen those before. That's an acceptance letter from a magic academy!"

My heart jumped. I clutched the parchment tighter behind my back.

"Give it here." She took two more steps forward, her five stubby fingers practically in my face.

"It's mine!" My voice was soft but firm.

She looked at me like I'd said something hilarious. "You think you deserve it? You're a useless burden nobody wanted. You eat my food, live under my roof, and you think you get to go to a magic academy?"

She suddenly raised her voice and shouted downstairs. "Chloe! Get up here!"

Footsteps quickly approached from below. Chloe appeared wearing a brand-new princess dress, her face perfectly made up. The moment she walked in, she whined, "Mom, what's wrong?"

Aunt Martha pointed at me. "She got an acceptance letter from a magic academy."

Chloe's eyes lit up instantly. The same greed.

"Really? Iris, let me see it."

"It's mine." I repeated, refusing to budge.

Chloe's expression darkened. She lunged at me, trying to snatch the letter away.

I dodged to the side. Chloe couldn't stop herself in time and crashed headfirst into the corner of the desk. She let out a yelp of pain.

"You actually dodged?!" She clutched her head, seething. "Mom! Grab her!"

Aunt Martha rushed forward and seized my arm in three quick steps.

Her hand clamped down like a vice, fingernails digging into my flesh. I couldn't move.

Chloe's eyes gleamed with excitement as she reached for the letter in my hand.

Just then, a mocking voice rang out. "Well, well. What a delightful performance."

Martha and Chloe froze, staring stupidly as the seagull took flight from the windowsill, circling the low-ceilinged attic.

"Let's see... who's bullying the orphan? Tsk, tsk, tsk. You humans can be even more shameless than seagulls sometimes."

Chloe pointed at it in horror, letting out a short, piercing shriek. But before the sound could fade, the seagull flapped its wings in her direction.

The next moment, gray bristles sprouted across Chloe's skin. Her fingers and toes bent at grotesque angles. Her ears grew larger. Her nose and mouth merged.

In the blink of an eye, a pink-and-white pig stood on the floor, letting out a series of panicked squeals.

"Ahhh!!" Aunt Martha collapsed to the floor, screaming louder than she ever had in her life.

I stared at the absurd scene, but for the first time in forever, I felt a rush of satisfaction.

The seagull landed beside me, preening its wing feathers with its beak. Its tone was casual. "Don't worry. Reversing it's easy. The Transfiguration Charm only lasts forty-eight hours anyway."

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to learn this incredible magic. I'd never wanted anything more than I did in this moment.

"When can we go to the Academy?"

The seagull flapped its wings. "Whenever you're ready."