— The Director's Office
The ticking of a lone wall clock echoed through the wide, dimly lit office of Ashfall Academy. Shelves of aging books stood like silent pillars along the walls, and a faint scent of old parchment lingered in the air.
Behind a large mahogany desk sat Director Aldric Hogswart—a dignified man with straight, pure-white hair pulled neatly back. His rectangular glasses rested low on his nose as he peered over them, studying the boy standing in front of him.
The boy's attire was casual but stylish: a loose black hoodie with rolled sleeves, distressed denim jeans, and white sneakers so clean they looked new. One hand sat loosely in his pocket, the other hanging at his side—relaxed, confident, almost annoyingly unbothered.
Director Hogswart finally spoke.
"My only nephew…" His voice was calm, though laced with concern. "Do you promise not to cause trouble in this academy? You've been transferred from school to school, and I personally decided to bring you here so I could keep an eye on you. You are my beloved neph—"
"Oh, please, old man."
Troy Fletcher interrupted with a dismissive flick of his hand. His brown, curly hair shifted slightly as he tilted his head, hazel eyes narrowing with faint annoyance.
"I don't want the other students treating me differently just because I'm related to you."
He exhaled sharply. "And just because people know I'm an orphan doesn't mean I'm out here starting trouble."
His shoulders relaxed as he let out a deeper sigh.
"I'll keep a low profile. And PLEASE—don't give me any special treatment."
Before Hogswart could respond, a firm knock struck the office door.
Tok. Tok.
"Who might that be?" he asked, voice deepening.
A cool, silky voice answered from behind the door.
"It's Verena, sir. Verena Crowe."
Hogswart shifted in his seat. "You can take your leave, Fletcher." His stern expression softened into a small smile. "Visit me sometimes, alright?"
Troy snorted lightly. "Whatever, old man."
A small corner smile betrayed his affection before he headed for the door.
"You may come in, Miss Verena."
The door creaked open, and a tall woman stepped inside. Her dark, fitted coat brushed lightly against her legs as she moved. As Troy passed beside her, she turned her head slightly, giving him a slow, uncanny grin—one that didn't reach her eyes.
The unsettling expression made Troy's chest tighten. What was that?
He instinctively straightened his posture before stepping into the hallway and letting the door click shut behind him.
Inside, Hogswart clasped his hands together.
"Welcome to Ashfall Academy, Miss Crowe. We've discussed everything already, so I am officially placing you in charge of Senior Class 1A." He let out a heavy sigh. "It's going to be a long year… but I trust you can handle them."
Miss Crowe's lips stretched slowly into a dark, confident smile.
"Leave it to me, sir. I'm the right person for the job."
She turned toward the door, her shadow stretching across the polished floor. Under her breath—barely more than a whisper—she murmured:
"Ashfall… I'm here now."
A glint flickered in her eyes.
"Let the fun begin."
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