Hope followed Richard and his daughters through winding stone corridors lit by floating lanterns that adjusted their brightness as she passed. The halls whispered—literally. The stones seemed to remember everything that had happened within these walls, and they weren't shy about murmuring secrets.
"This place is alive," Hope muttered under her breath.
Richard smiled without looking back. "Blackmoor has a memory. Respect it, and it will protect you. Disrespect it... and it will spit you out."
Jessa looked over her shoulder. "You'll get used to the weirdness. Eventually. Maybe. Probably not."
Celeste handed Hope a key with an engraved sigil glowing faintly red. "This is for your dorm room. You'll be in the North Tower. Floor six. Room sixty-six."Hope arched a brow. "Seriously?"
Richard gave a small chuckle. "We didn't plan that."
"It's been empty for years," Celeste added, quieter now. "No one's lasted in that room more than a week."
"I'm not like them," Hope said.
"We know," Richard replied simply.
As they exited the main building and crossed a narrow skybridge to the North Tower, Hope caught her first full glimpse of the school grounds. A vast courtyard stretched below, with training rings, potion gardens, elemental arenas, and even a dark forest behind a wrought-iron fence labeled Forbidden. It was chaotic, beautiful, and humming with dangerous energy.
"Everyone here is something," Jessa said as they walked. "You've got the moon-chasers—those are the werewolves. Then there are the bloodborn—vampires. And the spellbinders—witches. Some get alongMost don't. You'll see."
"And London?" Hope asked, surprising even herself. "What is he?"
Jessa smirked. "London? He's nothing. Literally. No powers. No aura. Just... a guy."
"He's been here two years," Celeste said. "Nobody knows why. He doesn't fight. Doesn't compete. Doesn't even participate in dueling classes."
"He's just there," Jessa added. "Quiet, harmless. Kinda sad, honestly."
Hope didn't respond. Something about him nagged at her. Not pity. Not interest. Just… curiosity.
They reached the top floor of the North Tower. The hallway was colder here, the walls darker, the silence heavier. Her room door was already open.It wasn't much—just a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking the forest. But the walls were marked with claw scratches and spell-burns. The air felt... thick. Like someone—or something—had lived here and hated every second of it.
Hope dropped her bag on the bed and turned to Richard.
"What now?"
"Rest. Classes start tomorrow. And Hope…" He paused. "No matter how strong you are—don't try to survive this place alone."
Hope met his eyes. "I've always been alone."
"Not anymore," Celeste said softly.
And with that, they left her.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Hope let out a breath. She looked around the room and closed her eyes. A memory flickered—her mother's voice chanting a spell, her father howling in pain, fire raining from the sky.She opened her eyes.
"I'm not here to be saved," she whispered. "I'm here to end whatever started that night."
Behind her, a shadow moved in the reflection of the window.
Something—or someone—was already watching.