School was something Wang Yue knew all too well.
Before she had crossed over, she had been a student. She’d been halfway through high school when her life was cut short, so returning to the academic life felt like a fish returning to water.
Thirty carriages were lined up in a single file along the main road of Crowsnest Town.
These carriages were exquisitely crafted, spacious, and comfortable. They were coated in bright colors—a mixture of whetstone powder, metal dust, and lacquer—and the doors were inlaid with the cat-tail crest of Balor Academy. Octagonal crystal lamps glowed brilliantly from the sides.
Each carriage was pulled by four purebred horses with coats as smooth as silk. They were a uniform color, exuding an air of understated luxury.
The lamps were filled with a fluorescent liquid extracted from the glands of bioluminescent creatures. Their brightness was staggering, casting light much further than any kerosene lamp and illuminating the road for over ten meters.
In addition to Professor Sabrina, several other faculty members accompanied the group, dressed in black hooded robes or pointed hats. They were all witches—some old, some young—and every one of them was solemn and shrouded in mystery.
Before boarding, the students had to be assigned their dormitories and classes.
Sabrina pulled a wand from her sleeve and waved it gently, her movements as fluid as an orchestral conductor’s. One by one, spectral beacons of light ignited in the air.
She began calling names from a register. As each student answered, they walked toward their designated beacon.
“Winnie Gerard. Class 1, Room 101.”
“Zinnia. Class 1, Room 101.”
…
“Wang Yue. Class 5, Room 202.”
Wang Yue perked up and walked toward the twenty-second beacon.
Dorothy was called next. She trotted over and caught up with her.
“This is wonderful, Master! We’re in the same room and the same class!”
“It’s likely based on the order we registered,” Wang Yue mused. “Since you were right behind me, it makes sense. We were a bit late, though. The first-floor rooms are all taken, so we’re on the second floor.”
“The second floor is better,” Dorothy said. “The first floor is too damp and full of bugs. I hate bugs.”
Wang Yue scanned the girls standing by the beacon. These were her roommates for Room 202.
One was a petite girl with short, bright green hair. She looked particularly small, with tiny hands and feet. A single leaf-shaped lock of hair stood straight up from her forehead, swaying slightly in the breeze. She looked around with sharp, lively eyes.
Next to her was a girl with long, smoky-gray hair. she looked timid and cowering, her fingers curled against her chest. With her downcast lashes, she gave off an air of melancholy.
Then there was a round-faced girl with chestnut hair. She was plump with pale, porcelain skin that looked as soft as a fresh bun. She carried a willow basket covered with a damp cloth.
Finally, there was a girl with black hair streaked with white. Her eyes were hollow and vacant, and atop her head sat a large, slimy octopus. The creature’s two bulbous eyes stared out as its tentacles writhed slowly, its skin glistening with moisture.
Including Wang Yue and Dorothy, there were six people in the room.
Wang Yue spoke first. “What are your names?”
“Matcha! My name is Matcha!” the small girl blurted out.
“I am Dorothy. It is a pleasure to meet you all!” Dorothy lifted her skirt and performed a graceful curtsey.
“Dina,” the round-faced girl said, giving a slight bow.
The melancholy girl’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, but the girl with the octopus beat her to it.
“Veronica,” she said. Her speech was a bit thick-tongued but not unpleasant. She reached up to pat the octopus on her head. “This is Octo. He’s my friend.”
Wang Yue waited a moment, then turned an inquiring gaze toward the shy girl. Finding everyone’s eyes on her, she looked ready to cry, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.
Wang Yue walked over and leaned close to her ear, speaking softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll look after you. Just stay behind me.” The girl gave a tiny nod and hid behind her, clutching the corner of her clothes like a small child.. In a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, she whispered, “I’m Cerceybe.”
“I’m Wang Yue. It’s nice to meet you all. Let’s get along well.”
Wang Yue glanced at Lulu’anna, who was standing by the beacon for Room 203. She was watching her with a playful, mocking look.
I’m lucky I didn’t end up in her room, she thought. That would have been a nightmare. Still, they were both in Class 5, meaning they would be sharing lessons. Trouble was bound to follow.
Once the assignments were finished, Professor Sabrina directed the freshmen to board the carriages. The students moved in an orderly fashion, the only sound being the rhythmic thud of footsteps.
“The students are very well-behaved this year,” Sabrina noted with an approving nod.
“Give them six months,” another teacher sighed. “They’ll be plenty of trouble by then.”
“True,” a third teacher agreed. “A few of these children have talents that shine quite brightly. They’ll be making waves soon enough.”
–
Dorothy pulled open the carriage door and peered inside. The interior was spacious and elegant, featuring two rows of seats upholstered in black velvet with a small tea table in the middle.
The girls of Room 202 climbed in and sat down. Dina placed her basket on the table.
Wang Yue hadn’t boarded yet; her attention had been caught by the group for Room 204. Among them was a pair of sisters.
The older sister was severely disabled. Her sleeves and trouser legs were empty, and one of her eyes was covered with a bandage. It looked as though she had been subjected to horrific cruelty.
