Rain fell softly against the windowpane of the old apartment, a rhythmic lull that normally would have calmed Elle's nerves. But not tonight. Tonight, the visions had returned—clearer, darker, more relentless than ever.
Elle sat cross-legged on the floor of her cramped bedroom, her long black hair unkempt, her fingers gripping a journal filled with frantic sketches and scribbled warnings. Faces she had never met. Fires that hadn't burned. Names she couldn't forget.
Her violet eyes flickered shut as another vision surged—flames erupting from a mountain, a girl screaming in a language unknown, a man with silver eyes and a voice that commanded the dead.
She gasped and snapped her eyes open. Her room was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows over stacks of books—mythology, ancient languages, psychic phenomena. All she had to guide her since she was twelve and the visions began.
Her aunt called them dreams. Her school counselor called them delusions. Elle knew better. They were warnings.
And tonight, something had shifted.
A knock echoed at the front door. Not a timid knock. Sharp. Intentional.
Elle rose slowly. Her aunt had left town for a work trip. No one should be visiting.
She opened the door to find a man in a tailored black suit. No umbrella. No rain on his shoulders. Just a sealed ivory envelope in his gloved hand and a calm smile.
"Elle Nightshade?"
She nodded, her throat dry.
He handed her the envelope. "By decree of the Aurelius Academy, you are summoned. Do not ignore this call."
Before she could respond, he vanished—no footstep, no sound, as if swallowed by the night itself.
Elle looked down at the envelope. Her name was etched in gold script. The seal bore an emblem: a phoenix surrounded by seven stars.
With trembling fingers, she opened it.
_"To Elle Nightshade,
Your gift has been seen. The future burns bright, and your place awaits.
You are hereby invited to enroll at Aurelius Academy, the oldest and most elite academy for supernatural aptitude. Your transportation arrives at midnight.
Do not be late.
– Archon of Aurelius"_
Elle stared at the words until they blurred. Then her eyes moved to the date. Midnight—tonight.
She didn't hesitate. She grabbed her bag, her journal, and the pendant her mother left.
Midnight fell like a curtain.
The city street outside shimmered, and suddenly a black carriage—sleek, ancient, and pulled by two creatures that looked like winged wolves—stood at the curb.
Elle approached, her heart pounding. The door opened on its own.
Inside sat a woman with eyes like mercury. "You've kept us waiting, Seer."
Elle stepped in.
The journey blurred. Roads vanished. Stars bent. Time folded.
When the carriage stopped, Elle looked out the window and gasped.
The gates of Aurelius Institute loomed like something pulled from an ancient dream—too perfect to be real, too foreboding to be welcoming. Silver towers pierced the sky, covered in crawling ivy that shimmered faintly under the sun. The air carried the scent of old magic and untold secrets.
Elle Nightshade stood in front of the archway, clutching the letter that had brought her here. The wax seal had already crumbled.
No one from her city had even heard of Aurelius, but after her last vision—one soaked in fire and blood—she knew she had no choice. Something was coming. Something terrible. And she had seen it begin here.
A voice rang out from the gate, smooth and authoritative.
"Elle Nightshade, of the Seers' Line."
She flinched. A woman stepped forward, tall, elegant, draped in robes that shimmered between night-blue and black. Her silver hair was pulled back into a crown-like braid, and her eyes were the color of mercury.
"Headmistress Virelle," the woman introduced herself without offering a hand. "We don't usually take untrained Seers. Most lose their minds before they make it through the first Trial."
Elle opened her mouth, unsure how to respond. Her heartbeat was already too loud. The vision she had that morning—
Cracks in the sky. Screams in the corridor. Blood on her hands. Her own face—still, cold.
"I'll survive," Elle said quietly.
Virelle studied her. "We'll see. Follow me."
Inside the school, everything felt like it had been waiting centuries to speak. The halls were lined with statues that moved when no one looked directly at them. Portraits whispered among themselves in foreign tongues. The chandelier above the great atrium hummed softly, holding a trapped constellation inside its glass.
Students moved like bright motes of power. A girl lit her fingertips with gold light as she passed; a boy vanished entirely, leaving only his laughter behind. No one paid Elle any attention.
Good.
Virelle led her to a stone hallway marked Newbloods' Dormitory, where a thick wooden door stood open. "You'll share this room with Sora Lake . Keep your visions to yourself unless summoned. If the Oracle calls you—go immediately. Or don't. It's your life."
The Headmistress left without another word.
Elle stepped inside. The room was simple but strange—two beds, two desks, a massive window showing a sky she wasn't sure was real. A girl sat cross-legged on the bed nearest the window, her long black hair spilling over an open book.
"You're Elle," the girl said without looking up. "I'm Sora. I know who you are."
Elle hesitated. "Do you read minds?"
Sora turned a page. "No. But yours screamed when you walked in."
That night, Elle couldn't sleep.
The bed was too soft. The silence too sharp. Her fingers trembled under the blankets, and her head ached with pressure. It had been three days since her last vision. That meant another one was coming soon.
The last time she'd tried to suppress it, she blacked out in the middle of class and woke up to three fire engines outside the school.
She closed her eyes.
The pressure in her skull surged.
And then it happened.
Her breath caught in her throat as the world bent sideways. Everything vanished—bed, room, walls—and she was somewhere else.
Vision
The hallway burned. Not with fire—but with light, blue and cruel. Students screamed. Stone walls crumbled. The sky above the glass ceiling cracked like an eggshell.
Elle stumbled forward, her hands bloody. She looked down and realized the blood wasn't hers.
A voice echoed from behind her, deep and cold.
"You were supposed to stop this, Seer."
She turned—
—and saw herself.
Her body, broken, lying on the floor. Eyes open, glassy. A sword of light stuck through her chest.
And then a boy with black eyes stepped from the shadows and smiled.
She snapped awake with a gasp, chest heaving, soaked in sweat.
Sora sat across from her, arms folded.
"You saw something."
Elle nodded, too shaken to speak.
"Big?" Sora asked.
Elle stared into the darkness. "I saw the school fall. And I died."
Morning came with no mercy. The first class was Power Foundations, and Elle had to sit beside students who bent water midair and spoke to birds in dead languages. Her head still throbbed.
At the front of the amphitheater, a man in gray robes stood beside a clock that ticked in reverse.
"I am Professor Damar," he said, "and time is not your ally. Understand it, or it will ruin you."
Elle barely heard him. Her eyes kept drifting to the boy sitting two rows down—tall, with midnight hair and pale eyes. He didn't speak. He didn't move.
But Elle had seen him before.
He was the one who had smiled as she lay dying in her vision.
Riven Kade.