"Eden, in just two days you'll be reporting to Lillemins. Have you packed your things?"
"I'm almost ready, Mother. I can hardly wait for the day I finally set foot at the school."
In the quiet suburbs of London, the Herris household buzzed with cheerful activity. Every corner of their home seemed touched by anticipation as they prepared everything their eldest son, Eden, would need for university.
At Lillemins University, every new student was required to arrive a fortnight early to take part in the Sorting Ceremony—a tradition so pivotal that it could shape not only the next four years but potentially the course of one's entire life. The weeks between the Sorting and the start of the new term were devoted to familiarizing each freshman with the campus and all the tools and routines they would require for their studies.
No one truly knew what was taught within the walls of Lillemins University. Those who graduated from the institution would, without exception, tell the outside world that they had taken up positions at a company known as Hadder.
Yet this explanation raised more questions than it answered. For beyond the students, professors, and alumni of Lillemins, no one had ever managed to reach the island where both Lillemins University and the Hadder offices were said to stand. To the rest of the world, the island remained unreachable—absent from maps, unapproachable by ship, and spoken of only in vague rumors that never quite formed into fact.
The story began on a Saturday evening. As Eden packed his belongings according to the notice the school had sent, Mrs. Herris was busy in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the family. In the sitting room, Mr. Herris worked alongside Eden's younger sister, Wallis, tidying the house and putting everything in order.
Half an hour later, Eden stepped out of his bedroom and made his way into the sitting room. The first thing he noticed was his sister seated neatly on a chair, a small table beside her bearing the novel she had recently taken a liking to.
"You've done a wonderful job with the sitting room, Wallis," Eden said. "Is Mother finished with dinner yet?"
"Yes, she is," Wallis replied with a smile. "I was just about to go upstairs and call you."
After the family had finished their prayers, they sat down together to enjoy dinner, their conversation turning naturally to Eden's plans for the following day.
"Eden," his mother asked, "what time does the letter say you need to be in Port Glasgow?"
"Before eight in the evening," Eden replied. "That's when everyone is meant to gather."
Lillemins was a school located on an island somewhere in the north of Britain. Anyone who was qualified—and required—to attend was instructed to travel there by means of a vessel arranged exclusively for that purpose.
"In that case," Mr. Herris said, "I'll drive you to the railway station first thing in the morning. You should turn in early tonight."
"All right, Father," Eden answered. "I'll go over the notice once more, and then I'll head to bed."
A month before the start of term, admission notices were posted to the homes of every incoming student. Each letter listed what was to be prepared in advance and made one point unmistakably clear: students were to arrive in Port Glasgow before eight o'clock in the evening to board the ship. Failure to do so would result in the loss of their place at the university.
After Eden and Wallis had gone upstairs to rest, quiet voices drifted through the sitting room. Mr. and Mrs. Herris were speaking in low tones, exchanging rumors they had heard about Lillemins and voicing their worries over whether Eden would manage to look after himself at university.
"Once Eden leaves," Mrs. Herris said softly, "will we still be able to stay in touch with him?"
"I asked him just before he went upstairs," her husband replied. "During term time, letters can be sent to the school at any time, and Eden will be able to write back whenever he has a moment to spare."
At Lillemins, students were granted a two-week holiday each year around Easter, during which they were permitted to return home. Apart from that brief interval, they were expected to live on the island where the college stood, as well as on several nearby islands affiliated with the school—places connected to the institution but accessible to non-students as well. For most of the year, letters remained the only means by which families and students could remain in contact.
Early the next morning, rich and comforting aromas drifted up from downstairs. In the kitchen, Mrs. Herris was preparing what would be Eden's final meal before his departure.
"Good morning, Mother," Eden said as he entered. "Breakfast smells wonderful today."
"My dear," she replied warmly, "this will be your last meal at home before you leave for school. I've put a little more care into it than usual."
"Thank you, Mother," Eden said with a smile. "I've been looking forward to your cooking."
After breakfast, Mr. Herris was already waiting by the car.
"Are you all set, Eden?"
"Yes, Father. Let's go."
During the drive, Eden gazed out at the familiar streets of London where he had grown up, recalling the people and places that had shaped his childhood. Before he realized it, they had arrived at Euston Station.
"Well then, my son," Mr. Herris said as the car came to a stop, "from here on, you'll have to manage on your own. Be mindful of your surroundings, and don't forget to take all your belongings when you step off the train."
"I will," Eden replied. "Goodbye, Father."
After waiting at the station for some time, Eden watched as travelers came and went—some arriving in London, others preparing to leave it behind. Before long, the train bound for Glasgow pulled into the platform.
Eden found his way to the seat indicated on his ticket, only to discover that a piece of luggage had already been placed there.
"Whose bag is this?" he asked, peering down the carriage as he spoke.
Almost at once, a girl about his own age hurried toward him, her steps quick and apologetic.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Are you sitting here as well?"
They compared their tickets and found, to their mutual surprise, that the seat numbers printed on them were identical.
"How can that be?" the girl asked, frowning.
"Perhaps we should ask the ticket inspector," Eden suggested.
He walked toward the front of the carriage and returned shortly with the inspector. After a brief examination of the tickets, the man cleared his throat.
"I'm afraid this is an error made at the time of booking," he said. "As the young lady purchased her ticket first, this seat will remain hers. However, we will arrange another seat for you, sir."
Eden glanced around the carriage, now crowded with passengers, and did not hold out much hope of being reassigned a place at all. At that moment, the girl spoke up.
"I bought two seats," she said. "I wanted a bit more comfort. You can refund the other ticket."
After the train had been in motion for some time, Eden found his thoughts returning to the moment they had compared tickets. He remembered noticing that the girl's destination had also been Glasgow. At last, he decided to ask her what she knew.
"Thank you again for the ticket earlier," he said. "My name is Eden Herris. Please, just call me Eden."
"Hello," the girl replied. "I'm Merry Evans. Merry is fine."
Once the introductions were out of the way, Eden turned to the question that had been weighing on his mind.
"I noticed your ticket was for Glasgow as well. Are you heading to Lillemins too?"
"You're a student of Lillemins?" Merry asked, studying him with a look of suspicion.
"Yes," Eden said, reaching into the pocket of his coat. "This is my admission notice."
He unfolded the letter and showed it to her.
"That's impossible…" Merry murmured under her breath.
"Is something wrong?" Eden asked, watching her expression grow increasingly troubled.
"Come a little closer," Merry said quietly. "I want to show you something."
She lifted her sleeve just enough to reveal an ornate bracelet encircling her wrist.
"Do you know why you were invited to Lillemins?" she asked.
"Because of my academic record?" Eden replied without hesitation.
"No," Merry said. "Look at this bracelet. Whenever I encounter someone with a certain kind of potential, it tightens slightly. That potential is what determines who receives an invitation. But when I met you, it didn't react at all."
"Potential?" Eden repeated. "What does that mean? And what does it have to do with Lillemins?"
"That much, I don't know," she said at last. "But remember this—what I've just told you must not be shared with anyone."
As they had boarded an early service, the journey passed in silence. Eden and Merry spoke little after their earlier conversation, and before long, both drifted into sleep as the train pressed steadily northward.
Some time later, the sharp hiss of brakes against steel announced their arrival. Eden stirred, and so did Merry. They had reached Glasgow—but earlier than expected, with ample time still remaining before the ship was due to depart.
"There's not much to do while we wait," Merry said as they stepped down onto the platform. "Since it's still early, would you like to visit the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum?"
"Sure," Eden replied. "I've read about it in books. Since we're already here and have time to spare, it would be a shame not to see it."
After leaving their luggage in the left-luggage office, Eden followed Merry out into the city and toward the museum, unaware that this brief detour—so ordinary in appearance—would linger in his memory far longer than he could have imagined.
Inside the museum, Eden and Merry wandered through the galleries, pausing before numerous exhibits. There were suits of medieval armor, their metal dulled by centuries of age, and of course many well-known paintings whose names Eden had encountered only in books.
But as they passed a painting titled Gris, Eden suddenly heard a voice.
Eden Herris… Eden Herris…
"Merry, did you hear that?" Eden asked, turning quickly to her.
"Hear what?" Merry replied, looking at him in confusion. Then, as if a thought had struck her all at once, she added, "Did you hear a voice calling your name?"
At that, she reached into her bag and drew out an old book, its cover worn and darkened with age. She opened it carefully and said in a lowered voice,
"The book records that when—"
"When a painting calls out to someone," a voice said calmly, "it means it has something to impart—something only that person can hear or accomplish. And what is given may not be spoken of to others until it has been fulfilled, or until it is made public."
"That is what it says, isn't it, miss?"
A man dressed in a long robe of deep burgundy had approached them as he spoke.
"Yes… that is exactly what's written," Merry replied, startled. "But how did you know?"
"There are very few people who would find themselves in Glasgow at this hour and encounter such a matter," the robed man said. "You are new students of Lillemins, are you not?"
Before either of them could answer, he continued, "I am one of the professors sent to receive you. My name is Jafar Enliszdo."
After brief introductions were exchanged, Professor Enliszdo turned his attention to Eden.
"Go on," he said evenly. "Listen to what it wishes to tell you. Once it is done, we will prepare to board the ship."
Eden and Merry returned to the station to retrieve their luggage before making their way to the harbour where the ship awaited them. By the time they arrived, other new students had begun to gather along the pier, some standing quietly on their own, others murmuring in small, uncertain groups.
Beside the vessel stood another professor, this one clad in robes of pansy purple. One by one, he addressed the students, explaining how they were to find their quarters once aboard.
"Your room numbers are listed on your admission notices," the professor announced. "Please follow the directions inside the ship accordingly."
He paused briefly before adding, "The floors for male and female students are separate."
"I suppose this is where we part," Eden said, turning to Merry. "We'll see each other at the school."
"Yes," Merry replied with a small smile. "At Lillemins."
After exchanging their farewells, they went their separate ways, each following the signs that led toward their assigned rooms.
Eden reached the room assigned to him and set about arranging his belongings. Once everything was in place, he sat down, intending at last to reflect on the secret the painting had tried to convey to him.
Just then, the door swung open once more.
"Hello there. I'm Willie Wardell. Could you give me a hand with my luggage?"
The boy who spoke had short auburn hair and an earnest expression.
"Of course," Eden replied, rising to his feet. "But… why do you have so much luggage? Didn't the notice say that everyday necessities could be purchased on the other islands affiliated with the school?"
Eden glanced toward the doorway, where a small mountain of suitcases had been piled one atop another, and for a moment found himself at a loss for words.
"Sorry about that," Willie said sheepishly. "I did tell my mother, but she insisted it would be cold here. She made me bring plenty of warm clothing—oh, and a few local specialties from home as well."
After helping Willie settle his luggage, Eden began to introduce himself.
"My name is Eden Herris. I'm from London. What about you?"
"I'm from Welshpool. I don't suppose you've ever heard of it," Willie said.
Welshpool was a place with a very small population, but for Eden—who had always loved reading—it was not entirely unfamiliar.
"That's in Wales, isn't it?"
The moment Eden said this, Willie leapt off the bed in excitement.
"You know it?"
"Yes," Eden replied. "I've seen the name before while reading books published there."
"I can't believe it," Willie said, still beaming. "I never thought anyone outside of home would actually know the place."
Then, as if a thought had just struck him, he added eagerly, "When the Easter holiday comes around, would you like to visit? It's the only real break we get at Lillemins."
After some idle conversation, Willie soon drifted off to sleep. Eden, however, lay awake in bed, unable to settle. His thoughts returned again and again to the moment earlier that day, standing in the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, when the painting called Gris had spoken to him.
Pay attention to the Loerminto Diary. This journal will change your life…
"Change my life?" Eden murmured quietly to himself.
Would Professor Enliszdo know something about it? And yet, Merry's ancient book had clearly warned that the secrets spoken by a painting could not be revealed to others—not unless the task was completed, or the truth laid bare before the world.
The questions tangled in his mind, offering no answers. At last, amid his confusion, Eden's thoughts grew hazy, and he slowly slipped into sleep.
"Lutlong… I never thought the day would come for me as well."
"That's enough, Lewin. Come back to Fenenweiche with me."
Where is this place? Why is Grandfather here?
Before Eden could make sense of anything, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar landscape. Ahead of him was a man named Lutlong—the same name as Eden's grandfather—yet this man appeared no older than Eden himself. Facing Lutlong stood another man, the one who had been called Lewin.
"Grandfather?" Eden called out to the man named Lutlong.
Neither of them reacted.
It was as though Eden did not exist at all.
"That's impossible, Lutlong," Lewin said. "There's no road left for me to turn back."
With those words, Lewin raised his gloved right hand, pointed his index finger toward Lutlong, and shouted,
"Perderemagicae!"
Lutlong responded at once.
In a heartbeat, two unseen forces collided—and the world before Eden's eyes shattered into nothingness.
"So… it was only a dream," Eden whispered.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on his body. Bathed in the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the window, Eden did not dwell on it any longer. He turned onto his side and drifted back into sleep.
The next morning, Eden and Willie awoke at roughly the same time. After tidying themselves up, they made their way to the dining hall attached to the ship for breakfast.
"Did you sleep well last night, Eden?"
A familiar voice came from behind. Merry, her hair tied back in a ponytail, greeted him with a smile.
"Morning, Merry. I didn't expect to see you again before we arrived," Eden replied. "But I didn't sleep very well, so I'm feeling a bit unwell."
While Eden and Merry spoke, Willie returned to the table with his tray of food.
"Eden, may I ask—who is this?" Willie said, glancing between them.
"This is Merry," Eden replied. "We met before boarding the ship."
After brief introductions, the three of them began eating breakfast together, gradually getting to know one another.
"So you're from Wales?" Merry said, reacting immediately when Willie mentioned that his hometown was Welshpool. Her surprise was even more pronounced than Eden's had been.
"You've heard of Welshpool too?" Willie asked, his face lighting up once again.
"Not just heard of it," Merry said. She reached into her bag and produced the ancient book once more, flipping to a section on magical creatures. "According to this, Wales was once home to many dragons. For reasons unknown, however, none have been seen since the fifth century."
"Y Ddraig Goch?" Eden asked. "The dragon on the Welsh flag—wasn't that just a legend?"
"My grandmother told me it was real," Willie said earnestly. "It truly existed. But something interfered—something that made it impossible for us to see them ever again."
After some time spent in discussion, the ship gradually drew closer to the shore. The professor clad in a robe of pansy purple appeared once more at the exit and addressed the new students.
"Please make sure you have all of your belongings with you," the professor instructed. "Place your luggage onto the carriages waiting at the front gate. You will then be taken to the Great Hall, where the forthcoming address will be held."
With that, the gentle sway of the ship gave way to the solid stillness of land, and the sense that something official—something unavoidable—was about to begin settled quietly among the students.