Eye of the Storm

The Selection Ceremony was about to start any minute now.

All the first-years had arrived by noon and were herded into the grand hall for a riveting lecture about the school’s illustrious history, the architecture, and other fascinating topics. I wouldn’t know; I dozed off about five minutes in. After that, they were split into smaller groups and dragged around the castle for the grand tour.

The ceremony is scheduled for 6 PM, right after dinner. It’s the only day of the year when the teachers don’t eat with the students, and instead of the usual six tables for the houses, there’s a seventh table just for the first-years. They say it’s to help them “socialize” and “bond,” which apparently is easier when you’re all the same age and equally terrified. Another “special” touch for tonight—no desserts during dinner. They save those for after the ceremony, so all the sugar-deprived students have a reason to cheer once the whole ordeal is over.

A little past 6, the massive doors of the Dining Hall swing open, and the entire faculty sweeps in. The background music, which had been playing softly, swells just enough to fill the silence that falls as the doors open. Of course, that silence lasts about two seconds before the entire hall erupts—shouting, clapping, and many banging the tables to make even more noise.

They make their way to the podium at the far end of the hall, positioned under the enormous stained-glass windows that cast colourful patterns across the floor. The headmaster takes center stage, standing one step ahead of the rest.

“My dear students, welcome back to another enchanting and exhilarating year at King’s Academy!” The hall exploded in cheers and applause. “And to those of you who are new and eager to embark on your magical journey, welcome to your new home! I am your headmaster, Caspian Yarrow. First and foremost, thank you for choosing this esteemed institution to nurture your talents and expand your knowledge. It is a true honor to have each and every one of you here.”

“Over the next six years, you will be guided by some of the greatest scholars and schoolmates you could wish for, who will help you hone your abilities and chart your path wisely. Remember, everyone in this room—including the faculty members—will become your family by the time you graduate. Lean on them for support, seek their advice, and cherish their companionship.”

Mr. Yarrow paused for a brief moment to let his words resonate. I glanced around, noticing how his words seemed to wrap around each new student, drawing them in. Some leaned forward, eyes bright with anticipation, while others nodded subtly, as if the headmaster’s vision for the year was already becoming their own.

“I understand that introductions might not be what you’re most eager to hear right now, so as per tradition, I will forgo the detailed faculty introductions—you will have plenty of time to meet and get to know them over the next few years—and move on to what everyone has been eagerly awaiting: The Selection Ceremony!”

As per tradition, Headmaster Caspian skips the introduction of the houses for two very simple reasons: one, they don’t want students forming biases before being sorted. They want each student to genuinely celebrate their selection, even if it’s not one of the leading houses. And two, they’re fully aware that every new student already knows everything about the houses anyway. ’ll end up in or anything.

House Elysium gathers the brightest minds and most skilled leaders. They’re the strategists, the ones who always seem to have everything figured out before anything even happens. Our black and silver colours give off this vibe of sophistication and strength—very we know what we’re doing, and we’re doing it better than you. I’ve seen Elysium students remain completely unflappable during training sessions, calmly issuing commands and adjusting strategies like it’s second nature. I’ve tried to mirror that composure, but those who think I share those traits haven’t seen me under pressure, that’s for damn sure. I’m more like a duck—calm on the surface, paddling furiously underneath.

House Seraphine is all about nurturing. They’re the quiet, supportive strength behind the scenes, always ready with a healing potion or a comforting word. Their emerald green and bronze colors are soothing, just like their presence. They’re the ones you want nearby when things go wrong because they’ll make sure everything is okay.

House Aegis is for the brave souls who charge headfirst into battle, all valor and glory. They’re the protectors, the ones who fight for what’s right, even when it’s tough. Crimson red and gold suit them perfectly—bold and fiery. I’ll give them this: their courage is impressive. But sometimes, it feels like they’re rather pretentious, living for the admiration they receive. Heroic? Sure. But occasionally, it feels like a show, rather than genuine bravery.

House Astraea is the domain of the bookworms and knowledge seekers. Their royal blue and gold colors reflect their constant quest for wisdom. They’re the ones who unravel mysteries and push the boundaries of what’s known, always delving into magical theory and trying to decode the universe. It’s fascinating, I’ll admit—watching them dive into books so deep they probably know every page by heart. I’m impressed they haven’t gone mad from all the arcane details swirling around in their heads.

House Ingenium is where creativity and innovation meet. They’re the inventors, the ones who craft new spells and magical artifacts that leave the rest of us in awe. Their amethyst purple and silver colors symbolize their experimental mindset and their willingness to push boundaries. It’s thrilling to see what they’ll come up with next—although, to be fair, sometimes it’s a little nerve-wracking when their experiments go off the rails. But that’s all part of the charm; they’re always pushing the limits, unafraid of the occasional explosion.

House Novitiate is where potential meets opportunity. It’s for those who are still figuring out who they are and what they can do. Amber yellow and bronze reflect their bright, hopeful outlook. They’re like a blank canvas, waiting to discover what talents they have. It’s refreshing to see their enthusiasm, reminding everyone why we started here in the first place. But of course, some students, especially those in Aegis, look down on them, insisting that Novitiate is full of bronze-bloods who won’t amount to much. The truth is, most Novitiate students haven’t had the luxury of formal magical training before coming here. They’re still learning the basics while everyone else has a head start. Honestly, it’s a place where anyone can find their footing and grow, free from the expectations that other houses impose. Sometimes, I envy that freedom—the ability to explore without being boxed into a label.

“After your name is called, please come up to the podium. Once you are up here, you will enter a trance, which for us will be only mere seconds, but for those in it, it could feel like several minutes. The guarding spirits of the school will communicate with you and assess your personality, abilities, and traits to sort you into the house that fits you best. Then you shall join your house, but before you start getting to know each other, please wait for everyone to have their turn. You will have plenty of time this evening to talk. And now, let’s start the Ceremony!”

As Headmaster Yarrow’s speech continued, I found myself flashing back to my own first year, to my own Selection Ceremony. It feels like it happened just yesterday. Standing up there, the room felt like it was shrinking around me, pressing in. My hands shook like leaves, and I kept shifting my weight, hoping my knees wouldn’t betray me and buckle. The air buzzed with excitement, but the fear was there, too, gnawing at my insides and making my stomach do flips.

“You? Frightened?” Ash let out a loud laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he tried to imagine it.

“I have my moments,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

After the initial shock of teleporting to the school and gawking at its towering exterior, I’d foolishly thought the inside might be less intimidating.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

The Entrance Hall had felt like a giant swallowing me whole. The marble floors stretched out like an ocean—an ocean made of shiny, slippery tiles that could host a small army. I remember looking up at the vaulted ceilings, craning my neck to take in every detail of the frescoes that moved and shifted, telling stories I didn’t yet understand. It was overwhelming in the most magical way possible. Awe quickly turned into a blend of wonder and panic—my two favorite emotions, apparently.

We waited for what felt like an eternity before a senior student finally approached us.

“‘Sup, first-years!” she called out, her voice echoing in the massive hall. Immediately, every head turned, and silence fell like a blanket.

She had our attention. All of it.

“I’m Mila Levine, a third-year and the Prefect of House Elysium, the current leading house of King’s Academy,” she announced, her demeanor everything I aspired to be: calm, confident, and elegant. And, yeah, she was casually hovering mid-air while she said it.

“It is my honor to welcome you on your very first day at King’s Academy. My fellow third-years will guide you through the building and the majority of the school grounds. You will be divided into six groups based on the alphabet. I will call out your names; please stand in groups.”

I watched as the other third-years started ushering first-years into their groups.

Being an Alarie, I was called out among the first. Once we were divided into a group of about 150, we got split again into three smaller groups.

“First group, come closer!” urged our guide. “My name is Benjamin Solace, a third-year from House Ingenium. It is my honor to guide you through your very first tour around King’s Academy, blah blah blah, let’s go!”

He led us through a set of massive double doors into the maze of my nightmares: the Staircase Chamber. The room was an absolute spectacle—staircases everywhere, moving as if they had their own opinions about where they should be. Some spiraled upward in elegant arcs, while others stretched out, only to twist in a completely different direction halfway through. It was like walking into a chaotic dance of stone and wood.

I could feel my heart start to race as I stared at the dizzying display. Every step felt hesitant, and all I could think was how easy it would be to take one wrong turn and end up… somewhere else entirely. Lost. Or worse, falling into the endless void below.

“This is the Staircase Chamber,” Benjamin announced, a wry smile on his face. “Try not to get lost. Or do. It’s all part of the fun.”

His casual tone did absolutely nothing to ease the tight knot in my stomach. I eyed the staircases warily, knowing full well that this place was designed to mess with you.

I vividly remember how nervous I was every day for the first few weeks, knowing I had to pass through it. The chamber seemed to exist solely to confuse and disorient—a twisted initiation into the academy’s complexities. I woke up multiple times during those early weeks, covered in cold sweat, dreaming of getting trapped or falling into some dark catacomb.

“I will definitely get lost here like a dozen times. Or more,” Aidan whispered, leaning closer with a nervous grin.

I chuckled, nodding. “Trust me, same.”

Benjamin continued, unbothered by the anxious looks some of us exchanged. “The chamber spans seven stories, including one underground level, and serves as the central point for accessing all floors of the school. Saying you got lost is a decent excuse if you’re late, but it only works for the first two or three weeks, so use it wisely.”

The walls of the Staircase Chamber were an art gallery-meets-botanical-garden, with detailed portraits and paintings depicting the academy’s history and its most legendary moments. The walls weren’t just about showcasing art; they were alive with vines and flowers growing directly out of the stone, enchanted to bloom all year round. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the cool air, giving the whole place a weirdly calming ambiance. As if that was supposed to make the disorienting maze feel less terrifying.

Clusters of glowing crystals embedded in the walls provided a soft light that shimmered across the chamber. The crystals changed color as you moved, casting an ever-shifting array of hues that danced along the walls and staircases. It was mesmerizing—like walking through a living, breathing dream. Natural light also poured in through the massive, intricately designed windows in the ceiling, flooding the space during the day and transforming into a view of a starry sky at night.

“It’s like a botanical garden meets an art gallery,” I muttered, trying to take in the sheer amount of details without getting dizzy.

“Welcome to the maze,” Benjamin said, leading us up a grand, sweeping staircase with polished stone steps and intricately carved banisters, featuring motifs of mythical creatures and magical symbols that seem to come alive under the touch of light.

Each floor was connected by these grand staircases, but there were also smaller staircases—both straight and spiral—snaking through the chamber. They offered multiple paths, adding to the labyrinth vibe.

On each landing, small alcoves and niches house statues and magical artifacts, each with its own story and significance. These artifacts range from ancient tomes and enchanted weapons to mysterious relics, each one adding to the sense of wonder and discovery.

Benjamin didn’t waste a second, weaving through the labyrinth of corridors with a casual confidence that suggested he’d done this a thousand times.

The hallways stretched on forever, lined with portraits of former students and teachers who all seemed to share the same hobby—staring at us. Every painting’s eyes followed our movements, and I felt a chill crawl up my spine when we passed a particularly stern-looking headmaster from centuries past, his gaze sharp and disapproving.

“Welcome to King’s Academy, where the walls have ears and the paintings have eyes,” Benjamin quipped, catching the uneasy looks on our faces. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Or, you know, you won’t.”

He moved us quickly through the first four floors, pointing out classrooms with a casual wave. “On these floors, you’ll mostly find classrooms, so nothing too exciting.” He occasionally gestured at a door, giving a brief explanation like, “Potions lab. Don’t blow anything up near the third shelf on the left,” or “Ancient Runes class—never be late or you’ll be doing extra homework for the rest of the year.”

When we reached what looked like a dead end on the third floor, Benjamin suddenly lowered his voice and motioned for us to come closer.

“Behind this enchanted wall is the Janitor’s Shed. If you ever get the bright idea to prank someone—which, of course, is highly forbidden—you definitely want to avoid this floor. Unless,” he paused, his voice dropping even quieter, “you’re thinking of pranking Skell. Our janitor here is a Half-Orc, immune to all magic. Just thought you might wanna know.”

He took a step back, cleared his throat and resumed his normal volume.

“So, this is the Janitor’s Shed, the domain of Skell Tohmrok and his cat, a cursed succubus named Azerafeli. Skell keeps the place running smoothly, and he’s also the one you’ll be seeing during detentions. Sometimes he even hosts students here—just one or two at a time. It’s pretty cozy, and he makes a mean black tea.” He cleared his throat again. “Or so I heard. Not that I’d know personally, of course.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Anyway, moving on…”

On the fifth floor, we passed by the library, a vast, towering room lined with rows upon rows of ancient books and scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, ink, and just a hint of lavender from the enchanted candles that lit the space.

“This is the library,” Benjamin announced with a flourish. “Home to more books than you could read in a lifetime, and probably a few that would read you instead.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at his joke. It was the first time since arriving that I felt a little more at ease.

Every so often during the tour, he’d point down a hallway or nod toward an upcoming turn. “That corridor leads to the east tower, but we’re not going there today,” or, “Take that turn if you ever feel like a quick cardio session up the spiral stairs to the west tower.” He always made it sound like we were missing out on something exciting, even though I was pretty sure he just didn’t want to lead us up and down any more staircases than necessary. Can’t say I blamed him.

“There are seven towers of the school. The first one you definitely noticed when you arrived. It’s the tallest and biggest one, right in the middle, almost directly above the Entrance Hall. That’s the Headmaster’s Tower, which you won’t have to see in person often—if you’re lucky. At the top is the Headmaster’s Office, and you’ll only go there if you’ve done something really bad—or really good. Personally, I’ve never seen it, which is surprising even to me, but hey, I still have three years to make it happen.” Benjamin shrugged, like the prospect of landing in the headmaster’s office was just another casual life goal. “Below the office are the administrative floors, and the lowest level houses the detention room. I’m sure I’ll see some of you there.”

He moved on, still walking through the corridors with that effortless ease. “The others are specialized for certain fields of study. We’ve got the Astral Tower, the Elemental Tower, and the Scholar’s Tower on the right side of the school. On the left, we have the Healing Tower, and behind it, somewhat connected, is the Mage’s Tower—where most of the duels and combat training happen. Convenient setup, right? Finally, there’s the Innovator’s Tower, my personal favorite. If you end up in House Ingenium, that’s where your bridge to the dormitory opens.”

As we wound our way back toward our starting point, I figured the tour was over. But when we got to the ground floor of the Staircase Chamber, Benjamin veered right instead of left toward the Entrance Hall.

He led us down another corridor, and we got a quick peek into the grand dining hall through the open doorway—just enough to catch a glimpse of the long tables and the flickering chandeliers, but not enough to linger. He guided us down the nicest corridor yet: simple in design, but the entire wall was made of glass, offering a perfect view of one of the dorms on the left and the expansive courtyard on the right.

Instead of taking us that way, he led us through the grand glass doors and out into the courtyard. It was a sight—lush gardens, sparkling fountains, and winding pathways that felt like something out of a fairy tale. Enchanted flowers bloomed in every color imaginable, their petals glowing with magical hues, and the sound of water trickling from the fountains created a serene, almost mesmerizing atmosphere. Comfortable benches and secluded nooks were tucked between the greenery, perfect for reading, studying, or gossiping in peace.

“If you want to study outside, get here early,” Benjamin advised. “The best spots go fast during the warmer months. And, heads up—we often have smaller parties or games here. You’re all welcome to join, but don’t wait for an invitation. They’re mostly spontaneous.”

“This place is beautiful,” a girl beside me whispered, her eyes wide as she took it all in. She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

I chuckled softly, but I couldn’t disagree. The place did have a certain magic to it.

“Yeah, it grows on you,” Benjamin replied with a grin. “Kind of like a magical fungus.”

From the courtyard, Benjamin led us back to the Entrance Hall, but this time, we approached it from the outside. He stayed silent, letting us soak in the view for ourselves.

The entire school and its grounds sit on a collection of floating islands, the King’s Isles, which are nothing short of an architectural marvel. As we walked, I took in the view—the islands stretched out, giving us miles of visibility, yet ancient magic kept us hidden from anyone watching from below. The whole setup was equal parts breathtaking and a little unsettling.

One of the smaller islands off to the side hosted the famed Sacred Willowtree. I’d read about it, of course—every first-year does. The tree had this soft, warm, whitish glow, like someone had stuffed it full of enchanted fireflies. They say it’s grown from the seeds of the Etherealon Tree and radiates protective magic that keeps the academy shielded. The magic’s invisible most of the time, but if you squint, you might catch a shimmer in the sky.

I noticed that only one of the eight smaller islands had a bridge leading directly to the school grounds. The rest were connected to the main building itself. If my guess was right, six of those were the dormitories, each floating on its own little island. And if I’m correct, the seventh island is for the faculty’s apartments.

The grounds of the school were just as enchanting as everything else—parks, smaller forests, serene lakes, greenhouses, and other buildings dotted the landscape. The pathways, lined with luminescent stones, looked like they belonged in another labyrinth, one I’d have to figure out eventually.

As we neared the main building again, I paid closer attention to the details. Towers of varying heights pierced the sky, each one adorned with carvings that practically hummed with magic. The castle’s exterior, made from some kind of luminous stone, glowed under the sunlight, giving everything this soft, ethereal halo. Vines and leaves wove in and out of the stone, like the architecture and nature had decided to strike a perfect balance.

Sunlight streamed through windows of all shapes and sizes, casting intricate patterns on the floors and walls inside. The designs of the windows refracted light in this mesmerizing dance of colors, shifting as we moved. Some parts of the building had ceiling windows that flooded the rooms with natural light, offering a crystal-clear view of the sky above. The spires atop the towers sparkled, like someone had sprinkled them with stardust.

Once back at the Entrance Hall, we were instructed to wait until the beginning of the Selection Ceremony.

“I need to get another group of first years on a tour,” Benjamin said as a form of goodbye and marched away before anyone could digest his words.

And just like that, we were left alone again.

When I noticed that none of the groups left after arriving, I began to anticipate something to happen. And thankfully, we did move on to a new program point, however…

“Now that you are all back and have seen the school, let us introduce you to the long and glorious history of the academy.”

Fantastic.

I wish I could recite anything from it, but the truth is, I may have fallen asleep after the second sentence. In my defense, the voice droning on was about as captivating as watching paint dry.

Thankfully, Aidan didn’t bother to wake me up and let me stay blissfully unconscious. I think he even shooed away another student who was about to nudge me awake. Heroic, really. I only woke up when I felt Aidan gently tapping my arm, the crowd beginning to stir as we were finally instructed to head to the dining hall.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” he whispered with a smirk as we marched in.

“Did I snore?”

“Nope. But you did groan.”

The Selection Ceremony was easily one of the wildest things that ever happened to me—and trust me, that says a lot. I’m not sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t.

“Welcome!” The voice boomed, and I spun around, expecting to find someone, anyone—but instead, I found myself in an endless room of light. It wasn’t blinding though; it was just fine.

It took me a moment to realize: I was in a trance.

“Ehm, hi?” I ventured, trying to sound casual.

“Don’t bother to find me, child, as I do not possess a physical body,” the voice replied, sounding like it was old enough to have seen entire civilizations rise and fall. But somehow, there was a gentleness to it too.

“Right. Sorry.”

Doing great so far.

“As you might be aware, I can read your thoughts and see your past memories, only so I can guide you on the right path for you. I will be asking you a few questions too, if you don’t mind, as I prefer to hear the answers from you—that tells a lot about one’s personality too. Is that alright for you…” The voice hesitated, “On which one of your names would you like me to call you, child?”

“Ellie,” I said without missing a beat. “My name is Elayne Alarie. But I prefer Ellie.”

“Alright, Ellie.” The voice sounded like it was smiling, if that was even possible. “Tell me, what kind of person do you think you are?”

“Well… I…”

I’ve got no idea.

“Let me ask differently. If your friends or your brother were asked what kind of person you are, what would you hope they’d say?”

“I think I’d want them to believe that I am a nice person. Someone who is fun to talk to and be around. Someone who is helpful and understanding.”

“Kindness and empathy. Both very important traits in a human, and both are present in you, based on your past memories,” the voice replied before moving on. “In a dangerous situation, what is your first thought?”

“Run or hide.”

The voice laughed—a deep, hearty sound that almost made me smile. “And what do you actually do in dangerous situations?”

“Unfortunately, neither of those.”

Another laugh. “Yes, you do show bravery and courage in dire situations, but your calm demeanor in these moments speaks the loudest. Even at the most emotional times, you seem to be able to keep yourself collected and think straight.”

Was he sure about that? I was half-tempted to let him know that I usually freak out on the inside, but maybe that’s a conversation for another day.

The voice paused, almost as if it were considering its next move. “What subjects are you most looking forward to?”

“To be honest, I don’t have a preference. I’m curious about all of them, but not one in particular.”

“You do have a thirst for knowledge, but you seem to take care of it on your own. If you find a topic that interests you, you won’t stop learning about it until your curiosity is satisfied. And you have experimented with creating your very own unique magic spells. Very interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, it is, my dear. You are a hard one to place. All houses describe you so well, yet none describe you enough.”

I tilted my head, trying to meet the voice’s gaze—even though there wasn’t one. “What do you mean?”

“You are too prepared and trained to fit in the Novitiate; that is the only house I am sure wouldn’t be a good match for you. While you would be comfortable there, it wouldn’t encourage you to grow to your full potential.”

I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.

“You have the creativity and experimental mindset of those in Ingenium, but not enough that I would be confident that is your place. It might lead you to become a scientist, but could also cause you to lose interest in the long run. You have the thirst for knowledge like a true Astraea, but your curiosity can fade as quickly as it appears. Scholars should have an infinite desire to learn, and you might grow bored too easily.”

I nodded along as if it meant anything to me - the repetitive motion was just a learned action to show I’m engaged in communications, since I often received growing up that I don’t pay attention even when I did.

“You possess the bravery and courage that is required for an Aegis, but you lack the confidence they possess, and I fear you may never fully reach that level. You value kindness, generosity, and empathy—traits found in Seraphine. However, you don’t belong behind the front lines, hidden away. You have the talent to support, but you should be at the forefront. You protect others by thinking, rather than doing: you possess a mind that should lead.”

Is this the right time to let him know that my strategy in a crisis is usually “panic quietly” or should we leave this conversation for another time?

He gave me a moment to process it all.

“I have made up my mind,” he finally said. “You belong to House Elysium.”

When I opened my eyes—which I hadn’t even realized were closed—I found myself staring at the black and silver windows behind the Headmaster on the far right. They glowed brightly, signaling Elysium’s choice. Almost instantly, the room erupted into loud cheers, clapping, and table-banging from the Elysium row.

Turning to face my new housemates, I gave them a shy smile before making my way to the table where my brother was already waiting for me.

As I walked the few steps toward my table, I glanced down at my feet and noticed that the color of my skirt and tights had changed: the originally white fabric had transformed into a gray skirt and black tights to match my house’s colors.

I’d seen it happen to other students—their uniforms shifting as they were sorted—but I’d expected to feel something, maybe like a soft electric current running through my skin. Instead, I hadn’t felt a thing until I saw it.

“We’ve got two in a row!” someone shouted further down the table, but before I could figure out who it was, I was bombarded with questions from my new housemates.

Now, three years later, as I took my seat at the Elysium table, I watched the first-years with their wide eyes and nervous fidgets, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. I remembered standing there, feeling my heart pound in my chest. Now, the once-intimidating hall felt like home.

I glanced at my housemates—everyone caught up in their own conversations, laughter echoing around me. They weren’t just classmates anymore; they were family.

Turning to Aidan, I grinned. “Ready for another year of chaos?”

He laughed. “Always.”

Then, the Headmaster began calling out the first-years one by one, and the ceremony continued.