Page 122 of Magical Melee

I thought about Nova and Twobble’s teaching about the earth being so alive and connected with us and with…Stonewick.

The faint sound of a distant song vibrated in my ears like the low notes of an ancient incantation.

“Almost there.” I wasn’t sure how I knew that.

Finally, the dense canopy began to thin. The path widened, and my breath hitched as I stepped into a clearing.

There it was.

The Academy.

The building rose before me. The structure was a masterpiece of ancient stone and living alchemy.

Its towering spires pierced the night sky. Each one was adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift and flicker in the moonlight.

The walls were covered in ivy. The dark green tendrils glowed faintly as if the very plant life was part of the structure’s heartbeat. Stained glass windows, each depicting scenes of mystical lore, cast fragmented light patterns across the ground.

The front entrance was massive. A pair of intricately carved wooden doors framed by stone columns looked like they had grown naturally from the earth. An archway above the doors bore a glowing inscription in a language I couldn’t read but somehow understood.

I took a hesitant step forward, and my boots crunched softly on the gravel path. The hum I’d heard earlier was louder now, resonating in my chest. It was as if the Academy acknowledged me, waiting for me to decide whether I would come closer.

The air around me was thick with power, making my skin tingle and my heart race. This place was alive, a living entity, just as Twobble and the others had said. It watched, it listened, and it chose.

I stood there, staring up at the grand building, a mixture of awe and trepidation washing over me. The pull that had brought me here was undeniable, but what lay beyond those towering doors? Would the Academy welcome me or would it turn me away?

Whatever the answer, I knew there was no going back now.

And I hadn’t turned to ash yet.

Chapter Thirty-One

The Academy at night was a sight that not only defied ordinary description but also defied all logic.

The building stood like a watchman of ancient wisdom. The walls were draped in shimmering vines that clung to the ancient stone like living lace. These were no ordinary plants; their leaves sparkled with tiny motes of light as if dusted with stardust.

The vines swayed gently in a breeze that didn’t exist, their motion rhythmic, almost as if breathing in harmony with the Academy itself. Occasionally, the vines would shift colors—from a soft emerald to a deep, enchanting violet and then to a silvery blue, bathing the surrounding grounds in a soft, magical glow. It reminded me of the goblin’s gold I’d only just learned about.

The thought of this new world made me feel alive with something I didn’t understand.

Tall, arched windows were filled with stained glass that depicted vibrant scenes of magical history: witches and warlocks standing shoulder to shoulder, elemental forces spiraling through the air, and celestial figures guiding the flow of ancient knowledge.

By day, these windows would catch the sunlight and scatter rainbows across the interior. By night, they seemed to reverse their purpose, glowing softly from within. It was as if the very essence of the Academy was illuminating them.

A soft energy strum emanated from the building, filling the air with an almost musical vibration. It was not a sound, exactly, but a feeling.

The undercurrent of power and serenity resonated in my chest and buzzed at my fingertips. The kind of sensation made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, not out of fear, but reverence.

Around the base of the Academy, tiny orbs of light floated lazily above the ground. They danced and twirled. Their glow was reminiscent of fireflies but steadier and with more purpose. These orbs would occasionally dart up to the vines in a playful mood.

The pull was undeniable now. My feet moved independently, carrying me toward the broad stone steps leading to the massive doors. With every step, the moment's weight settled deeper into my chest. This wasn’t just a building; it was a test, a living entity evaluating my every move.

Maybe the Academy was waiting for the moment I screamed and ran back to Twobble.

As I stood closer to the door, I saw carvings deep into the dark wood that seemed impervious to time. My fingers traced the runes in the wood, and a comfort fell over me.

The realization hit me like a cold splash of water. I was still standing, still breathing, and very much intact. Whatever power the Academy wielded, whatever force guarded its sacred grounds, had deemed me worthy—or at least not a threat.

For now.