Page 34 of Magical Mission

But all here.

This wasn’t even the whole of it.

Not even close.

There were more students on the way. I could feel them like echoes just beyond the Wards and like ripples in the water before a frog appears. And with them would come more teachers. More stories. More challenges.

But tonight?

Tonight was full.

Tonight was family.

And I couldn’t wait to see what came next.

Which reminded me that I had somewhere to be.

Chapter Eight

The banquet hall buzzed with warm laughter and the clatter of forks, but I slipped away through a narrow side corridor.

Not because I didn’t want to be there. I truly did, but because some things inside me needed stillness. Needed shadow and hush and something older than celebration.

So I followed the winding path past the library, past the tapestry that always shifted if you stared too long, and into the hush of the wing’s forgotten hall. The air cooled here, carrying the scent of moss and old stone and something sharp underneath.

I didn’t need to think about where I was going. My feet knew the way.

The hidden door greeted me like an old friend as the key fluttered my way with its iridescent wings.

Now, I slipped it into the lock without hesitation.

The door sighed open with a low exhale of warm air, tinged with smoke and ash and something undeniablyalive.

I stepped inside, the stone giving way to soft earth beneath my boots. The ceiling arched high above like the inside of acavern. Bioluminescent moss clung to the walls, glowing faintly in blues and greens, and the soft trickle of water echoed from somewhere unseen.

But it was the heat that greeted me first,andthe presence.

Dragons.

A low hum curled around me as I entered, vibrating in the bones of my chest, like the den itself was waking with recognition.

And then I saw them.

The dragons.

Curled along the edges of the den like coils of ancient smoke and stone, their massive bodies resting in pools of gold-flecked shadow. Colorful wings tucked close, tails looped like lazy question marks, horns and spines glinting in the glow.

Most were asleep, or at least pretending to be.

But one wasn’t.

The young one.

She stood halfway across the den, scales the color of stardust in moonlight, her wings tucked tight against her sides. Her bright eyes met mine as soon as I stepped in.

I paused.

She didn’t.