Page 1 of Magical Mission

Chapter One

Twobble’s big eyes stared up at me, and his smile matched the excitement behind his gaze as he puffed his chest out on the doorstep of the Academy.

My first student.

My loyal friend.

And the one who deserved to be in the Academy more than anyone.

It didn’t matter that he was a goblin, or that half the town might roll their eyes and scoff at the idea. They didn’t know him the way I did. They didn’t see the heart behind the sharp teeth, the unwavering loyalty behind the sarcasm, or the sheer determination behind every crooked grin.

Never did it occur to me that the most surprising confidant would be recognized as such by the Academy. It was hard to believe that the Academy knew exactly who I needed by my side on this journey. Once again, this magical space understood something bigger than I did.

Twobble had stood by me when no one else did, when the Academy’s doors were just a vague notion, and everyone whispered that it was cursed, doomed, and impossible.

Not Twobble.

He believed.

In the Academy.

In me.

In the idea that a place like this could still be something more than a crumbling old shell of forgotten magic.

Standing on the front steps with the familiar scent of sugar from Twobble sneaking cookies lessened the uncertainty of tomorrow’s next step.

I honestly couldn’t imagine a more perfect first student. Not some polished shifter from the East Faction. Not a perfect mage from the city. Not a high-born fae with the right bloodlines.

Twobble.

Just Twobble.

My hand drifted to his tiny shoulder, and he froze, his eyes darting toward the touch like he wasn’t sure if it was a mistake.

“It’s official,” I said, letting a slow, proud smile spread across my face. “You’re the first student of the reopened Academy.”

He blinked.

Twice. Maybe three times.

I saw his throat bob like he’d swallowed something sharp.

“You mean it? Like official, official?”

“Like ink-on-paper, signed-sealed-delivered official,” I said, crouching down so we were eye to eye.

Twobble’s breath caught, and I smiled. Even with all the snark, Twobble had a heart of gold.

“You’re...you’re not just saying that to make me feel important, are you? ‘Cause I’m already important. I’m an elder goblin of the third hill of Stonewick. I don’t need charity.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, my voice catching on a laugh. “This isn’t charity, Twobble. It’s legacy. You’ve earned this. The Academy chose you.”

He tried to puff up even more, but his voice cracked. “I have, haven’t I?”

“You have.” I winked at him and straightened.

We stood there, a woman and a goblin, on the steps of a once-great Academy that now felt like it was breathing again, thanks to him.