Page 154 of Magical Melee

The intricate carvings on the wood seemed to shift and shimmer in the light, depicting scenes of ancient battles, arcane rituals, and moments of profound discovery.

When I reached the top, I touched the door’s cool surface. The warmth from my birthmark surged again, and the door responded, creaking open just enough for me to step inside.

The air inside was warmer, filled with the faint scent of aged parchment and herbs.

The foyer was grander than I remembered.

Its gold pillars gleamed softly in the light of floating orbs that hovered high above.

Vigorous, vibrant plants sprouted from large pots and their leaves were a deep emerald green despite the season.

I walked further in, and my footsteps echoed faintly into the air.

The sense of wonder I felt was overwhelming.

The Academy wasn’t just a building—it was a living entity, a repository of knowledge and magic that thrummed with life.

Everyone had been right.

My birthmark’s warmth began to fade as I stopped in the center of the room, looking up at the grand staircase that spiraled upward.

My heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and awe.

I had made it.

I was here.

A sudden realization struck me. I was no longer just someone fumbling through the world of magic. I was a part of this now, a thread in the intricate tapestry of Stonewick’s legacy.

I couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take me.

The warmth of the Academy’s foyer wrapped around me like a cocoon, but I barely noticed it.

The sheer magnitude of the place left me breathless.

The gold pillars, the intricate carvings on the walls, the gentle glow of magical orbs—it all felt like a dream.

I stepped forward, each footfall echoing softly against the floor.

As I reached the center of the room, a familiar presence sent a shiver down my spine. I turned quickly with my wand instinctively tightening in my hand.

Emerging from the shadows was the robed figure I’d seen before—the same one who had guided me during my previous visit.

“Back again, Maeve,” the figure said, her voice calm and measured. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t stay away for long.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. “I had to come back. There’s too much I don’t understand.”

The figure nodded, her hood obscuring her face. “You made a difficult choice, leaving this building to protect your friends. The safety it offered. Few would have the courage to walk away from power for loyalty.”

“I didn’t really see it as a choice,” I admitted. “They’re my family now. I couldn’t abandon them.”

“And that,” the figure said, her voice softening, “is precisely why the Academy needs you.”

I blinked, confused. “Needs me? What are you talking about?”

The figure took a step closer, her presence both imposing and oddly encouraging. “The Academy doesn’t just seek those with power or potential. It seeks those with the purest hearts, those who act not out of ambition or fear but out of love and loyalty. Stonewick is on the brink, Maeve. The magic here is strong, but it requires guardians who understand the true cost of their choices. It requires students who thirst for the magical ways and leaders who have hearts with pure intent.”

The words resonated deeply, stirring something I couldn’t quite explain. I took a step closer, my curiosity outweighed my apprehension.