I stepped into my room and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment to breathe. The silence was heavy, but welcome.

  The window was open, letting in a cool breeze that ruffled the papers on my desk. I walked over and pushed the lattice shut, latching it tight. I needed focus. I needed a vacuum where no nasal princes or chaotic wolves could disturb my logic.

  "Okay," I whispered, sitting down at the sturdy wooden desk. "Let's see what I've gotten myself into."

  I unrolled the parchment scroll Pip had thrown on the table. It smelled of ozone and cheap ink.

  COURSE SELECTION - YEAR 1

  Choose your Electives Wisely. Your Survival Depends On It.

  I scanned the list. There were five main options available for first-years without a specific guild affiliation.

  .Battlemagic Basics (Practical Combat)

  .Arcane Theory (Pure Mana Manipulation)

  . Magic Circle Geometry (Applied Mathematics)

  .Runecraft (Scripting & Warding)

  . Alchemy & Potions (Chemical Transmutation)

  And then, at the very bottom, separated by a thick black line, was a sixth option.

  Demonology (The Study of the Abyss & Dark Entities)

  I snorted. "Yeah, right. Sign me up for the class where I get to study the things that want to eat my soul. Hard pass."

  I dipped my quill into the inkwell. The black liquid beaded on the tip of the feather.

  "Strategy," I murmured, hovering the pen over the first box.

  Battlemagic.

  I thought about the bandits I had fought off before coming here. I thought about the dangers of the campus. And, inevitably, I thought about Demian.

  "I have a little magic," I reasoned. "Just enough to reinforce a punch. And frankly, knowing how to legally throw a fireball at 'certain persons' might be very therapeutic."

  Check. I marked the box with a neat, decisive X.

  Next. Arcane Theory.

  "Hmm." I tapped the quill against my chin. "Too abstract. Too flashy. If I take that, they'll expect me to have a massive mana pool. I need to fly under the radar."

  I skipped it.

  Magic Circle Geometry.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  My eyes lit up. I loved geometry. Angles, vectors, circumferences—it was just math with spicy chalk. It was safe. It was logical. It was predictable.

  "Safe bet," I whispered.

  Check.

  "Okay, one more," I muttered. "I need three credits."

  I looked at the remaining options. Runecraft or Alchemy.

  Runes were like coding—writing instructions for reality. Interesting, but tedious.

  Alchemy, on the other hand...

  "Alchemy is just chemistry," I smiled, thinking of the magnesium flash-bang I had used on the Tiger. "I made a smoke bomb when I was twelve. I can mix potions in my sleep. This is an easy A."

  I moved my hand. I aimed the quill at the point. Alchemy & Potions box.

  It was a perfect plan. Battlemagic for defense, Geometry for logic, Potions for easy grades.

  I was just about to lower the tip of the quill to the paper.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  The sound was like a cannon going off. Something—or someone—slammed into my bedroom door with the force of a battering ram.

  "VALERIE!"

  Roc-ta's voice roared through the wood, vibrating my very soul.

  "WE ARE GOING TO EAT!"

  I jumped.

  I didn't just flinch; I launched about three inches into the air. My knee jerked up, slamming violently into the underside of the desk.

  "Ow!"

  "THERE IS CHICKEN!" Roc-ta howled from the hallway, sounding frantic. "ROASTED CHICKEN! AT THE CANTEEN!"

  "Chicken?" I yelled back, rubbing my knee. "I'm busy!"

  "BUT PIP IS PAYING!" Roc-ta screamed.

  I froze.

  "Pip is paying?"

  "HE HAS A CORPORATE EXPENSE ACCOUNT! FREE CHICKEN, VAL! UNLIMITED GRAVY!"

  The words bypassed my brain and went straight to my stomach. Free food. In a school where everything cost points or gold, free food was the holy grail.

  "Oh! Yes!" I shouted back, distracted. "I'm coming! Save me a drumstick!"

  I scrambled up from the chair, looking around for my shoes.

  "Wait," I muttered. "Where are my boots? I kicked them off..."

  I turned away from the desk to look under the bed.

  In my haste, in the chaos of my jump and the promise of poultry, I hadn't noticed what my hand had done.

  Or rather, what the quill had done.

  Slow Motion.

  The quill, knocked from my hand by the impact of my knee against the desk, didn't just fall flat. It rolled.

  It rolled slowly, lazily, across the tilted wooden surface of the drafting table.

  It reached the edge.

  It tipped.

  Gravity took over.

  The quill fell, point down, like a dark, inky arrow of fate.

  Below it lay the scroll, unrolled and waiting.

  The quill didn't land on Alchemy.

  It didn't land on Runecraft.

  It plummeted past my intended choice.

  It landed, with a wet, decisive SPLAT, squarely in the box at the very bottom of the list.

  [X] DEMONOLOGY

  The ink splattered perfectly, filling the box with a checkmark that looked aggressive, messy, and final.

  I, oblivious to the catastrophe occurring behind my back, found my left boot under the bed.

  "Gotcha!" I grunted, pulling it on.

  Behind me, on the desk, the magic of the scroll activated.

  The parchment sensed the ink. It sensed the selection. It didn't care about intent; it only cared about input.

  Selection Confirmed, the magic seemed to hum.

  The ink was absorbed instantly into the paper, locking the choice in for eternity.

  WOOSH.

  The scroll rolled itself up with a snap. It hovered for a second, glowing green, then vanished in a flash of light—teleported directly to the Administration Office's filing cabinet.

  I turned around, hopping on one foot as I pulled on my other boot.

  "Okay, Roc-ta! Don't eat all the skin!"

  I glanced at the desk.

  Empty.

  "Huh," I thought, grabbing my door handle. "I guess I finished it? I probably marked Alchemy. Yeah, definitely Alchemy. I was aiming right for it."

  I opened the door, my stomach rumbling, my mind filled with visions of roasted poultry and gravy.

  "Hunger!" I announced, stepping into the hallway.

  I left the empty room behind.

  I had no idea that I had just signed up for the one class taught by the most terrifying professors in Aeridor.

  I had no idea that I had just signed up to study the very things I was terrified of.

  And worst of all...

  I had no idea that Demonology was the only mandatory elective for a certain Prince of House Nox.

  "Coming!" I yelled, running down the hall.

  Ignorance was bliss.

  For now.