Page 4

The heavy doors groaned as they swung open. What I saw took my breath clean away.

They were everywhere.

A line of people, creatures , stretching down the steps, winding along the path, curling like a colorful living ribbon through the courtyard and beyond.

All of them standing, waiting.

For me?

For the Academy?

For the hope that new beginnings bring…

Some women were dressed in flowing robes embroidered with starlight and ancient runes. Others were wrapped in patched cloaks and threadbare boots, eyes wide with hope and fear in equal measure.

It was a sensation I related to far more than I realized.

A trio of towering centaurs with garlands braided into their tails took my breath away. I’d read about such creatures but never expected to see them.

It was a sensation that was happening more and more in my new world, sort of like the dragons…

A gaggle of wide-eyed witches in mismatched shawls clutching satchels stuffed with yarn, plants, and notebooks looked at me as if I had the answers.

Two female goblins in smithy aprons dusted with soot, helmets tucked under their arms, stared at the centaurs.

A fae with silver filigree twisted around her antlers stood tall. A young woman no older than thirty held the hand of an older, nervous-looking selkie, with seaweed still tangled in her hair.

They had come from everywhere.

From stories I’d yet to imagine.

But the whispered tales of this Academy had awoken and opened its doors to anyone willing to learn. Pride circulated through my body, tickling my bones and electrifying my soul in a way I couldn’t explain.

I had a purpose, and that was important to me, especially now that Celeste was finding her own in a world so vast that other realms can hide in plain sight.

She had been my everything…still was, but my sole purpose was no longer raising Celeste.

Distant lands, forgotten towns, and hidden corners where magic had dimmed but not died had heard the Academy’s call.

They had come back.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my hand still gripping the ancient latch, heart pounding in my ears.

I didn’t even hear the footsteps behind me until Nova’s dry voice cut through the stunned silence.

“Well,” she said. I glanced back as a crooked grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Looks like someone’s popular.”

Nova leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed and her brilliant green eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and awe.

Beside her stood Grandma Elira.

Twobble scrambled to my side, his eyes going comically wide as he gawked at the line curling down the steps.

“Holy Nagwaddle. That’s… that’s a lot of folks.”

I laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, it is.”

“Are we… are we ready for this?” Twobble whispered, tugging at my sleeve.

I opened my mouth to say no.

Because, honestly? I wasn’t sure.

This wasn’t a trickle or a slow and steady stream of students.

It wasn’t a cautious first student.

This was an avalanche of magical students itching to learn something I knew nothing about.

But as I looked out at all those hopeful faces, something inside me, something less foolish than fear, swelled up and pushed every scrap of uncertainty aside.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “We are.”

Nova gave me a sideways glance. “Really? Because it looks like you might throw up.”

“I might,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll do it where no one sees.”

Twobble chuckled as my grandma stepped beside me. Her gaze swept the crowd, softening as she took in the magical folk seeking to learn.

“You did this, Maeve,” she said quietly. “You brought them here.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “ We did. All of us. The Academy woke up because it knew it was time. It needs its strength that only living creatures can give it.”

This also told me that it knew Gideon was closer to his goal than I wanted to admit. The Academy was opening, whether it was ready or not.

I looked down at Twobble, who was still gawking.

“And it started with a goblin who refused to stop believing,” I added.

I couldn’t help but think of Keegan and Stella, too. Would they be roaming these halls as visitors soon? And what about my dad?

Twobble tried to huff like it was no big deal, but his ears turned a telltale shade of green.

“Maeve…” My grandma’s voice dropped into something more serious now. “You realize what this means, don’t you? The Academy isn’t just stirring. It’s open. Officially.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I realize.”

Nova stepped forward, her gaze on me now. “You also realize this is going to rattle certain… enemies.”

She didn’t say his name.

She didn’t have to.

Gideon.

The snake in the grass. The threat clawing at the edges of Stonewick. The one who wanted nothing more than to control the old magic for himself.

I looked at the line of waiting students, creatures, and wanderers.

And I felt it, bone-deep.

This wasn’t just about learning spells anymore.

It was about hope.

About standing up to the darkness creeping into the world's cracks while the Academy slumbered.

And Gideon?

He wouldn’t ignore this.

He couldn’t.

Because the Academy was alive now.

And that meant we were no longer just surviving. We were fighting back.

“This couldn’t have come at a better time,” I whispered.

Twobble blinked up at me. “Better time for what?”

“To show Gideon,” I said, my voice steady now, fierce in a way I hadn’t felt before, “that he’s not the only one who gets to decide the future of magic.”

Twobble nodded, face serious. “About time someone told him.”

Nova snorted. “I don’t want to imagine what he has in store for us.”

My grandma, ever graceful and ever the balance between old ways and new, simply placed her hand over mine, where it rested on the door.

“He’ll be trembling when he finds out what we have in store for him.” My jaw tightened at the thought of a man so hellbent on disrupting peace. He had to be stopped, somehow… someway.

“Let’s welcome them properly, Headmistress,” my grandma said softly, her eyes shining.

I stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”

She smiled. “But that’s what you are.”

I swallowed hard.

Because it was true, wasn’t it?

No one else had been tapped.

It was me.

Mom.

Maeve Una Bellemore.

Divorced.

Ordinary.

Now, head of an Academy that had slumbered for longer than most had been alive.

“Well,” I said, straightening my shoulders, forcing the old fears into the shadows. “Guess I better start acting like it.”

The wind tugged at my dark hair as I stepped onto the threshold, the Academy breathing behind me, alive with purpose again.

And I smiled.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t scared of what was coming.

I was ready.

We were ready.

Magic belonged to the people again.

And no one, not even Gideon , was going to take that away.

Torches flickered to life, casting pools of amber glow across the old stones and vast yard. Their flames danced in the breeze like they couldn’t believe they were finally needed again.

And neither could I, honestly.

The air buzzed with nervous laughter, excited murmurs, and the occasional confused snort from a centaur who insisted the welcome line was moving far too slowly for her liking.

I stood awkwardly on the cracked stage at the head of the courtyard. Twobble by my side, practically vibrating with the effort of holding in all the words he was dying to blurt out.

Nova leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed, eyes focused as she scanned the crowd.

Grandma Elira stood just behind me, her presence steadying in the way only grandmothers who’ve outlived wars and curses could manage.

And Bella and Ardetia slowly walked along the crowd's edge, taking in every being who came to Stonewick.

And the students?

They were a living mosaic of everything I’d hoped for and everything I’d never dared to dream.

A troll in a perfectly pressed waistcoat, her spectacles perched on the very tip of her elegant nose, politely chatted with a trio of giggling witches from the Laramie Caverns. I only knew because I heard one of them bragging about their village back home.

I glanced at a goblin with calloused hands and oil-smudged cheeks. She looked like she could dismantle the entire Academy brick by brick if given half a reason. Twobble took notice of her, too.

A shifter fox family, the youngest cub tugging impatiently at his mother’s cloak, whispering, “When do we get to learn how to make the fire spells?”

Good question. I wondered the same thing.

Even a gaggle of garden gnomes, who stuck stubbornly to the edges, muttered about how the architecture needed work but stayed put.

Twobble fidgeted beside me, his hands clasped behind his back, doing his best to look dignified.

Which, for Twobble, mostly involved standing on his tiptoes and glaring at anyone who dared whisper about the goblin on the stage.

“I think it’s time,” I murmured.

Twobble nodded furiously. “Yup. Definitely time. Been practicing my speech all afternoon.”

“You’ve been in your room for an hour.”

“Sixty very productive minutes.”

I stifled a smile as I stepped forward, the murmurs settling into a hush that stretched across the courtyard.

I cleared my throat.

“Welcome,” I said, my voice stronger than I expected. “Welcome to Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy.”

A ripple of whispers.

Some confused.

Some hopeful.

All hungry for what came next.

I gestured to the towers, the glowing stained glass, and the ivy-draped stones of the Academy.

“This place… it’s been asleep for a long time. But you woke it. All of you. You answered the call. You felt in your bones that you were meant to be here. Some know why they are here, and others just listened to the pull to come.”

More nods. Some cheers.

Twobble tugged at my sleeve.

“I felt that same pull, and I can tell you that the Academy is here to learn from, to listen to its guidance, and if needed, to protect. This is your safe place to learn, grow, make mistakes, and discoveries…” I cleared my throat and scanned the crowd, and all I felt coming back was kindness.

“We will learn magic here. We will understand its powers, strengths, and weaknesses. Most importantly, we will gain friendships and found families. We will learn that our experiences in life don’t cripple us.

They make us stronger and more aware of what’s on the horizon.

Most importantly, I hope the Academy will teach us that we can overcome and create greatness wherever we stand and with whomever we stand because we’ve learned to believe in ourselves. ”

Cheers erupted, and I knew I belonged here to make mistakes, develop a mission, and defeat Gideon. There was no other place I wanted to be.

When the crowds quieted, I started again.

“I’d like to introduce someone special.”

Twobble puffed out his chest so hard I feared he might fall backward.

He stomped up beside me and cleared his throat dramatically.

“Twobble will be here to assist you as you become accustomed to student life here at the Academy. If you have questions or concerns or just want a good friend, Twobble is your guy. He’s also the direct line to me.”

“Ahem,” Twobble’s voice bounced off the courtyard stones like he was addressing a royal court. “First, I’d like to remind everyone that the Academy has an official snack drawer. Managed by me. Donations welcome. Bribes encouraged.”

A few students laughed. A female goblin barked a loud, hearty guffaw, and Twobble’s cheeks warmed.

Twobble pressed on, undeterred. “Second, anyone caught rearranging the library shelves without consulting the local book sprites will be hexed into next week. And third…”

He paused, his grin slipping just a bit as he scanned the crowd.

“Third is…” His voice wobbled. “You’re all welcome here. No matter your past or your plans for your future. We are here to help you understand that your pain, happiness, and confusion have all led to this moment in life where we can harness it all and create greatness.”

Warm and whole silence drifted through the air, followed by another thunderous round of cheers.

He glanced back at me, cheeks flushed pink-green. “That’s all I got.”

I squeezed his hand. “That was beautiful.”

The applause continued and vibrated in my chest, making the air shimmer with more than just magic.

“Not so bad for a goblin ,” Twobble muttered and sneered at my grandma, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. It would take some time for those two.

But I loved that the Academy hadn’t heard laughter like this in decades.

I breathed in the sound, letting it settle into the cracks inside me that had been there longer than I realized. The void of my ex-husband and daughter nagged at me so incessantly that I’d managed to become numb to the emptiness… until it started to fill up again.

Grandma Elira conjured up tray after tray of hard cider and hot cider. The crowd slowly spilled forward, mingling, introducing themselves, swapping stories over shared mugs of drink and good cheer that Grandma Elira handed out with each smile.

Nova drifted closer, nudging me with her elbow. “You pulled it off, Bellemore.”

I snorted. “If only it were that easy.”

My grandma smiled softly. “And they’ll remember this night.”

“I hope so,” I whispered.

But as I watched the laughter and the new friendships spark in the glow of the torches, I knew they would.

Because this wasn’t just about spells and lessons anymore.

It was about belonging.

It was about rebuilding a world with room for goblins, witches, trolls, and shy gals who just wanted to learn how to make the stars dance.

It was about saying yes to magic again.

But under it all, that gnawing thread of tension remained.

Because Gideon wouldn’t ignore this.

He’d see the lights. He’d hear the laughter.

And he’d see it as a threat.

But good.

Let him.

Because now, for the first time, I wasn’t just a woman playing with magic, scrambling in the darkness of these walls.

We were an Academy.

And we weren’t going anywhere.