Iris's POV

I stumbled back two steps, nearly losing my balance, and looked up to find a flamingo standing on my backpack, its scarlet wings flapping wildly.

"I'm so sorry! So sorry!"

A head popped up from the bird's back—equally scarlet, with a mess of red hair that looked like it had just survived a hurricane. A few stray feathers clung to her face.

She fumbled with the flamingo's reins. "Bean! Stop it! You hit someone!"

The girl gave the large bird's head an anxious smack. The flamingo let out a disgruntled squawk before finally settling down.

Only then did the girl exhale in relief. She slid off the bird's back and hurried over to me, her face flushed crimson. "I'm really sorry. I'm still not great at handling her. Bean's kind of... temperamental."

"It's okay." I accepted her apology readily. Watching her look like she wanted to crawl into a hole, I couldn't help but smile. "Your flamingo is... unique."

"More like uniquely difficult," the girl muttered. She extended her hand. "You're a freshman too, right? I'm Wendy Sorenson. Nice to meet you. Just call me Wendy."

"Iris Vance." I shook her hand with a friendly smile.

Wendy looked me up and down, tilting her head curiously. "Where's your mount? I don't see your magical ride. Where did you come from?"

"I don't have a mount. I just walked here. I'm human—just a regular human." I shrugged.

The moment the words left my mouth, Wendy's jaw dropped into a perfect 'O', her bright green eyes going wide.

"Human? You're actually human!"

Her voice wasn't exactly quiet. Instantly, heads turned our way.

"Did she say she's human?"

"Bliston Academy admitted a human? Are you serious?"

Whispers rippled outward like waves on water. More and more people turned to stare, their eyes fixed squarely on me.

Those gazes held curiosity, skepticism, disdain—like I was some rare animal in a zoo exhibit.

I stood there, somewhat at a loss, my fingers unconsciously tightening around my backpack strap.

Wendy realized she'd caused trouble. Her face flushed even deeper as she waved her hands frantically. "I'm sorry! I was just so surprised. Bliston Academy hasn't admitted a non-magical human in ages—hundreds of years, at least. Your magical talent must be incredible for them to make an exception!"

Her words only made the murmurs grow louder.

"No way. I don't sense even a hint of magical energy from her. How could she possibly have high magical talent?"

"Maybe it's a mistake? The admissions committee's a bunch of old geezers. Wouldn't be the first time they screwed up."

I felt those stares sharpen, pricking my skin like needles.

I frowned, about to say something, when Sev gently tapped my shoulder with his wing, telling me to stay quiet.

Just then, someone shouted, "Cassian's here!"

The crowd froze like someone had hit pause. One second they were chattering; the next, total silence. Everyone turned to look in the same direction.

Cassian. Who was that?

My attention shifted too. Instinctively, I rose on my toes, following their collective gaze.

In the center of the plaza, the crowd parted on both sides of the main path, creating a wide corridor.

A young man walked slowly up the stone steps.

He wore a flowing black robe, its collar and cuffs embroidered with dark silver patterns that gleamed faintly in the moonlight.

His hair was an extremely pale silver, like moonlight spun into threads, swaying gently in the night breeze.

His features were nearly perfect—as if a god had descended to earth. But what made my breath catch were his eyes.

They were an extraordinarily rare color, somewhere between gold and amber, as though something burned within his pupils—like flames sealed inside.

Every eye in the plaza was on him, yet he looked at no one. He walked forward as if he'd long grown accustomed to being watched.

With each step he took, the crowd retreated half a step. Their eyes were filled with fear, as though getting too close might curse them with misfortune.

Everyone stepped back—except me. I stood rooted in place, my heart pounding violently in my chest.

Instinct told me this man was dangerous.

Someone suddenly yanked my arm. I stumbled backward and saw Wendy's panicked face.

"Don't let him notice you. That's Cassian Hastings—the legendary phoenix descendant."

Her voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid he might hear.

Phoenix? Those mythical creatures from legends that rivaled the gods—they were real?

I stared, dazed, as the silver-haired young man reached the front of the crowd and stopped before the massive gate.

At that exact moment, the sun began to rise in the east, and the gates of Bliston Academy slowly began to open.