Just like that, Withney's first day at Hermandry came to an end. The days that followed were peaceful, but a quiet weight hung in the air, as if something unseen lingered just beyond the edges of her vision. Nothing too eventful happened.
On the morning of the second day, she contacted her father using one of the scrolls. He was a little mad, his voice tense and restless—the kind of anger that hid worry beneath it. He had been uneasy the previous day because she hadn't called. Withney also questioned him about why he hadn't told her about Maylyn. After a little more chatter and introductions of her friends, she ended the contact.
The rest of the day was spent touring the campus and visiting various clubs and secondary clubs they could join. Yet, even among the laughter and chatter, a shadow of something unspoken seemed to drift between the old stone walls.
On the third day, Solaria and Candice were unable to join, so the remaining four girls had a small picnic by the lake. The water looked dark and still, reflecting a sky smeared with gray clouds. They tried to get to know each other better, but the air felt heavier than it should have.
The following day, all six of them explored more of Hansforth and its history. Hansforth wasn't a bustling metropolis or capital, but its history was stained with the rise and fall of empires—echoes of power lost, and perhaps, never truly gone. It was one of the largest cities on the continent, second only to imperial capitals and major ports. They called it "History City," for it had witnessed centuries of blood and ambition.
Withney was currently in the Northern Continent, officially the Troven Continent. So far, only three true continents had been discovered: Troven, Stroven, and Trusia—the Northern, Southern, and Eastern Continents. Several island nations dotted the seas between them.
To the west of the Northern Continent lay the Great Blue Ocean—the largest and most dangerous body of water known. The deeper one traveled, the fiercer the storms, the deadlier the currents, and the more monstrous the sea creatures that lurked beneath.
Yet, the true barrier was the Grand Gray Fog. Discovered about 150 years ago, it was a thick wall of mist that swallowed entire expeditions. No one who ventured beyond ever returned. Whispers told of a realm beyond the fog—a paradise or the gods' domain. The same rumors haunted the eastern oceans. From these whispers birthed many superstitions and also the saying:
"Don't venture too far, or you will be lost in the fog of the gods.".
On the fourth day, the girls stayed in the dorm to study and contemplate their choices.
By the fifth day, everyone except Withney had chosen their second department. Solaria and Candice joined the Hand-to-Hand Combat Department, Elise conformed to the norm and picked Practical Magic, and Maylyn surprised them by choosing both Magical Studies and History.
Withney, feeling more herself after the daze of the first day, asked Maylyn quietly:
"You're going the full history route?"
"Of course," Maylyn replied with a small smile. "I love history and its mysteries. Besides, I don't need Practical Magic—my aunt gives me private lessons."
Maylyn belonged to the Quinston lineage, a powerful house of fire mages. Her aunt taught Senior Fire Magic at Hermandry and was said to be quite formidable. Noble mage families like theirs often kept secret techniques hidden from the public eye.
By contrast, Withney's family—the Winterskerns—had only recently earned their noble status. Her father, Maxwell Winterskern, had built their house from the ground up. Known as one of the world's most brilliant financial minds, he founded his company at twenty, raised it to a union by twenty-five, and later, a powerful organization rivaling ancient houses. He was now a Viscount.
On the sixth day, Withney finally chose her second department: History. She wanted to be near her best friend for at least one class.
First-year students could choose only two departments. After that, more. Most stuck with two or changed one. Overachievers picked three, and four was rare.
The rest of the day passed with administrative tasks: enrolling in courses, buying books and materials.
As night fell, Withney and Maylyn planned to visit the Hermandry Library the next day for research and study—now both students of History.
On the seventh day, they ate breakfast in the food court, a place where students could enjoy meals prepared by professional chefs for about 10 Trons per month. Those with financial difficulties could apply for aid.
Their plan was simple: get a grasp of their upcoming classes to absorb information better when the semester began.
At around ten in the morning, they settled in the library. Sometimes, they read their subjects; other times, they took breaks with novels or personal-interest books.
They went out for lunch with friends and took short walks when restless.
By four in the afternoon, Maylyn was engrossed in a world history book. Withney wandered among the shelves, eventually drawn to a dim corner where shadows pooled.
There, something caught her eye: a piece of parchment tied between two dusty books.
Curious, she pulled it out.
It was a scroll.
Intrigued, she broke the seal. For a moment, it seemed blank.
Then words appeared:
"Fractured is the thread of destiny,
Woven in shadows and flame.
The climb is long, the toll unspoken,
And no hand will guide you.
Remember The Things Forgotten and Uncover Everything.
Continue the walk, child of starlight—
For the path remembers all who dare tread it."
Withney read the cryptic message, confusion twisting into unease. Her blood ran cold; sweat pricked at her skin.
Beneath the writing appeared a symbol she knew well: an eye pierced by an arrow.
Suddenly, the world blurred and shifted.
When it cleared, she stood not on the library's wooden floors, but on jagged, uneven stone.
A biting wind swept past, chilling her to the bone. Her emerald dress fluttered in the chilly gust.
Before her lay a town cloaked in darkness and fog.
A massive cathedral-like structure loomed—towering, ancient, and oppressive. Its windows were decorated with intricate, haunting patterns. Nearby, a gothic clocktower stood tall, its hour hand frozen at twelve, the minute hand missing.
The buildings looked abandoned, possibly for centuries, or longer.
The only light that came was from a massive crimson moon, half-hidden behind the cathedral. Its eerie glow was the sole reason she could make out any detail.
Suddenly, the scroll appeared before her.
She reached for it.
Then a voice echoed all around, cold and forbidding:
"YOU ARE NOT READY YET!"
Withney's eyes snapped open.
She was back in the library, standing before the bookshelf. The scroll was gone.
Still trembling, she glanced down at her forearm—and saw the symbol: the eye pierced by an arrow.
It melted slowly into her skin.
And then, a sudden rush of knowledge flooded her mind: a ritual, a secret. But one thing was clear—she must never speak of this to anyone.
A terrible fate would follow if she did.
Her thoughts drifted to the man from the nearly empty shop.
Was this what he meant by a key part? What was that city? Why the crimson moon? Whose voice was that?
She looked around for Maylyn. A glance at the clock showed only a minute had passed.
She sighed, relieved, and walked back to her friend.
Picking up a book, she tried to steady her thoughts.
"Is this some prank by the Archmage who made this scroll? Or something else entirely?"
"Did you get a good look at the library?" Maylyn asked casually, eyes glued to her book.
"H-Huh? Oh, yeah. Nothing caught my eye, so I came back."
"Hmm… it is a big library," Maylyn said, still reading.
Around six, they left the library.
Withney forced a calm mask over her unease. She realized she could now hide her true feelings, the knowledge deep within threatening to consume her.
Is this a side effect of the scroll?
The day ended quietly. All six girls went to bed early—their first day of class awaited.
Withney, more exhausted than usual, quickly drifted into a restless sleep.