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Twobble was practically vibrating beside me, his stubby legs bouncing in place as I led him through the winding corridors.

Well… I say “led,” but truthfully, I was about seventy percent sure I was making it up as I went along.

The Academy had never exactly handed me a floor plan. I hadn’t stumbled across a welcoming committee or a map etched into the walls. And yet, some part of me, deep in my gut, or maybe it was the strange tickle behind my ears, seemed to know where to go.

It was a little disconcerting, if I was honest.

Twobble, of course, was oblivious to my inner existential spiral. He was too busy doing little hops, trying to peek over the railing into a stairwell that descended into shadows.

“Bet there’s secret tunnels down there,” he whispered.

“Probably,” I said, distracted, as I squinted down a curving hallway. The air smelled different here. The oxygen was warm, tinged with lavender and something like spiced apples. Cozy. Inviting. Which made sense if this was where students once slept.

“Are we lost?” Twobble asked, his voice laced with suspicion as he eyed a suit of armor that turned its head just a fraction too slowly as we passed.

“Of course not,” I lied.

Before Twobble could grill me further, a familiar voice echoed down the corridor.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Twobble jumped high enough to lose his hat, which he caught in midair with impressive reflexes.

“Blazing Bogwarts!” he cursed. “Don’t sneak up on a goblin like that, Nova!”

Nova leaned against the wall like she’d been waiting for us the whole time. Her sweater flared behind her like a cloak, and her ever-present smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “Twobble. You’ve made it farther than usual, I see. Didn’t get tossed into the buckthorn brambles this time?”

“No thanks to you,” he muttered, dusting off his arms with exaggerated huffs.

I folded my arms, arching a brow at Nova. “Did you know he would be our first student?”

She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but I caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes. “I… had a hunch.”

“A hunch?” I repeated.

Nova straightened. “The Academy’s shifting. Waking up. Things are different now. He’s different.” She gave Twobble a pointed look. “Guess it decided he was finally worthy.”

Twobble stuck his chin in the air. “I was always worthy.”

“Agreed,” Nova said with a wink. “So where are you going?”

I opened my mouth.

And promptly closed it.

Because honestly?

I had no idea.

I turned, gesturing vaguely down the softly glowing hallway. “To his room. Obviously.”

Nova tilted her head, amused, and chuckled. “You’ve seen the dormitories?”

“Not exactly.”

Nova snorted. “I’m coming. This should be entertaining.”

Twobble rubbed his hands together, delighted. “Oh, a tour group!”

“Behave,” I muttered, marching forward as confidently as I could manage.

The hallway curved gently, the walls widening into an elegant gallery of soft amber sconces, aged tapestries, and windows overlooking one of the Academy’s forgotten courtyards. The air felt thick with possibility, and the deeper we walked, the warmer it got, as if the Academy was expecting us.

How did I know there was a hallway of dorm rooms down this corridor?

How did I even know there were dorm rooms? I didn’t. I had just embraced blind, magical faith because that was all I had.

I pressed a hand to the cool stone as we passed under an archway. The wall seemed to hum under my fingertips, like it was aware of me. Like it was guiding me.

The thought sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

We turned the corner, and another hallway to a dormitory stretched before us, dust still settling from years of desertion.

It was incredible and breathed life into the idea of a refuge for magic folk.

The space didn’t feel empty or abandoned. Not with Twobble’s eager footsteps echoing against the stone, not with his chatter filling the space about what kind of snacks he’d stockpile or how many bookshelves he could fit in one room.

This was what the Academy was meant to be.

Not cold halls or forgotten history.

But found family.

Laughter.

Loyalty.

And maybe a goblin or two.

When the corridor finally spilled into a long, arched hallway lined with doors, I stopped dead.

And for once, even Twobble shut up.

The dormitory wing was… beautiful.

The space was alive. The floors were polished wood, gleaming under the soft light of floating orbs that drifted lazily above our heads like sleepy fireflies.

The doors were all uniquely carved in different woods and painted in gentle hues, with some little brass plaques and others with stained glass insets.

They were warm and inviting, like little front doors to miniature homes.

And the smell!

Fresh linen. Old paper.

That cozy, safe scent that reminded me of curling up by Stella’s tea shop fireplace with a cup of something sweet and a book that didn’t end the way you expected.

I swallowed hard.

“It’s…” I breathed, trailing off.

“Nice digs,” Twobble whispered, his voice filled with awe. “Better than my den. No offense to my den. She’s got character. But this…” His eyes gleamed, taking in every curve, every cozy detail. “This is somethin’ else. I feel fancy.”

Nova smirked. “Bet you didn’t think you’d ever get a room here, huh?”

Twobble didn’t answer. He was too busy tiptoeing toward the nearest door, his fingertips hovering just shy of the handle like he was afraid he might break it.

I stepped beside him, something in my chest squeezing tight.

“Pick one,” I said softly.

He blinked up at me. “Me?”

“Yes, you. First student gets first pick.”

His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

Nova leaned in, whispering just loud enough for us both to hear, “He might faint.”

“I might,” Twobble croaked, but his hand shot forward, gripping the doorknob before he lost his nerve.

The door opened without protest, and the room inside—oh my.

It was perfect.

A little bed with a patchwork quilt, nearly identical to the vest he wore today.

A sturdy desk with space for piles of books. A round window with a cushioned nook overlooking the courtyard. Even a squat stove in the corner, waiting to be lit.

It was… home.

Twobble stood frozen in the doorway, his breath catching audibly.

“It’s yours, Twobble,” I whispered.

He blinked rapidly, brushing at his eyes with his fingers. “I… it’s...”

Nova leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, but even she had softened.

“See?” I said, stepping inside. “You belong here.”

His grin returned, crooked and proud. “Guess I do.”

And the Academy, silent and ancient around us, seemed to hum in agreement.

Twobble was still pacing the room like a tiny, excitable whirlwind, eyes darting from the bed to the desk to the squat stove like he was afraid blinking might make it all disappear, when I felt the air shift behind us.

Soft but undeniable magic stirred.

And sure enough, the soft footfalls came next, echoing down the hallway with a kind of quiet authority only certain people could pull off.

Grandma Elira.

Of course, she found us. She always found me when things tipped toward historic.

But she wasn’t alone.

Beside her glided Bella, her fox-like grace effortless, her copper hair loose over her shoulders, every step precise.

And flanking them, the slender figure of Ardetia, whose name I could never pronounce without getting tangled, moved with that infuriating weightless elegance that always made me feel like a lumbering bull by comparison.

They all paused at the threshold, the dormitory hallway stretching wide around us, glowing with a soft, amber light that now seemed like a stage.

Their gazes flicked to Twobble.

And the pause that followed made the cozy warmth crackle into something brittle.

Grandma Elira’s brow lifted, faintly puzzled, though never unkind. Bella’s mouth parted like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. And Ardetia…Well, a fae's expressions were always hard to read, but the faint tilt of her head betrayed surprise.

I could feel it like a punch in the chest.

They hadn’t expected… him.

They’d expected some polished mage from the old bloodlines. Maybe a shifter scion. A bright-eyed witch from the North.

Not Twobble.

Not a goblin.

But I stood my ground, heart thundering, and stepped forward.

“Perfect timing,” I announced, with all the confidence I didn’t quite feel. “You’re just in time to meet the Academy’s first student.”

Bella’s eyes flicked to me. “First… student?”

“That’s right,” I said, looping an arm protectively around Twobble’s shoulders. “Twobble. Officially accepted.”

Twobble puffed up, his chin wobbling as he tried to look impressive. “Yup. That’s me. First.”

Ardetia blinked slowly, her expression as unreadable as ever. “A… goblin.”

I heard the hesitation in her voice, the undertone of confusion.

And maybe even doubt.

But my hackles rose.

“Yes, a goblin,” I said fiercely, squeezing Twobble’s shoulder. “And if you ask me, the best possible choice. He’s been more loyal to the Academy and to Stonewick than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Twobble let out a squeaky cough and angled his face away from them all, but not before I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

“He’s never once given up on this place,” I pressed on, my voice trembling under the weight of all the things I’d never said before now. “Even when it threw him into the brambles. Even when no one else believed. He kept fighting for it. Kept believing in it. And in me.”

My grandma stepped forward, her eyes softening, and to my surprise, she smiled gently at Twobble. “Perhaps the Academy finally saw what we overlooked.”

Bella relaxed beside her, her lips twitching into an affectionate grin as she tilted her head toward Twobble. “Guess we’ve been thinking too big.”

Ardetia’s lips twitched with just the barest hint of amusement. “Perhaps we have.”

Twobble tried to clear his throat, but it sounded like a choked hiccup. He rubbed furiously at his eyes, muttering, “It’s just the dust. Rooms like this are always dusty.”

“Very dusty,” I agreed softly, brushing a few stray, imaginary cobwebs from the ceiling, though the room was spotless, truthfully.

My grandma chuckled softly, her voice thick with something like nostalgia. “This is a good day, Maeve. The Academy has always been about more than power or bloodlines. It’s about heart. And your friend has more of that than most.”

Twobble coughed into his arm, stubbornly facing the window. “Well… someone’s gotta teach you all about the goblin way. Don’t want you tripping over your robes.”

Bella laughed. “We’re honored, Twobble.”

His ears turned a fierce shade of green.

And right there, in that quiet moment, I knew the Academy had chosen wisely.

It wasn’t about who was expected. It wasn’t about pedigrees or old names carved into stone.

It was about this.

About heart.

About loyalty.

About believing when no one else did.

And Twobble, my brave, scrappy, fiercely loyal Twobble, was the perfect start to this new chapter.

“Ready to make history, student Twobble?” I whispered.

He squared his tiny shoulders, trying to blink away the stubborn tears.

“Let me at it.”

And the Academy, humming quietly around us, seemed to agree.