Page 218 of Magical Mission

“It’s uncertain whether it was a spy,” I continued, “or an extension of Gideon himself. What we do know is that it wasn’t afull form. It was anessence.A thread. Something subtle enough to slip through without triggering the full wards. That’s why it’s taken this long to find it.”

Twobble crossed his arms and grumbled loudly from his corner. “Sneaky little twizzlers. Should’ve sniffed them out the second they got cozy with shadows.”

Some nervous laughter rippled through the students, but it died quickly.

“We’re investigating,” I said firmly. “The students who brought it in have fled. That tells us something in itself. But it also means we must remain vigilant. Because no matter how kind our intentions or open our hearts, we’re still building something fragile. Something new.”

My dad gave a soft bark beside me, his eyes scanning the gathered crowd.

“I want you to hear this part clearly,” I said, stepping closer. “No one here is to blame for what happened. We will not fall into suspicion or fear. That’s not who we are.”

Eyes lifted toward me, worried, watchful, young, and ancient.

“We are a place of second chances. Of magic and midlife and mystery. And yes, danger too. But also love. Healing. And strength.”

The sun shifted, spilling across the floor in wide streaks that touched the old sigils in the stone.

“So we move forward. Together. We seal the Wards. We strengthen our protections. And we keep our eyes open, not just for danger, but for each other.”

I glanced toward Nova, who gave me the faintest nod. Stella’s gaze was steady. Ember’s crackled with power. Keegan hadn’t moved from my side.

“And in doing so, we protect not just this Academy, but what it represents. A place where we grow, transform, and remember who we really are.”

There was a long pause, then the smallest voice from the back of the room asked, “What if the shadow comes back?”

I turned to the speaker, one of the newer students, her robe slightly too big, her hair tied in a nervous braid.

“Then we meet it at the gates,” I said. “Together.”

That, finally, settled something in the room. A breath released. A grounding.

They believed me.

They believed inthis.

I stepped back, letting the others speak, letting questions bubble up. But in my mind, the images hadn’t faded. Krina’s face turned just enough to see the decision in her eyes, Mys’s too-sure stance, and the shadow twisting between them.

We were not safe yet.

But we were strong.

And I would make sure we stayed that way.

The crowd had begun to settle after my announcement. A low hum of whispered speculation stirred among students like wind through leaves, curious, wary, but calm enough that I began to believe the truth had fallen into the right hands. They weren’t afraid. They wereaware.

And then Lady Limora stepped forward.

Her presence always cut through a room, not with volume or flash, but with the poise of someone who had lived through centuries and collected secrets like ribbon-wrapped letters. Her deep violet cloak pooled around her boots, and her silver hair shimmered faintly in the filtered light streaming from the Academy’s arching windows.

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.

“It makes sense,” she said, her voice soft but resonant. “The night of Moonbeam is nearly upon us.”

The shift in the room was instantaneous.

Students stilled.

The faculty who had gathered along the back wall looked at each other. Nova’s eyebrows lifted just enough for me to see the flicker of surprise. Ember’s jaw tensed.