Ophelia Moore never knew magic was real until her shadow magic exploded out of her, shattering her life in one terrifying moment.
Now, she's been thrust into the mysterious and gothic Hallowgate Academy, where students master dangerous powers, and...
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I sit on the edge of my bed, textbooks strewn across the sheets, an absolute mess of magical nonsense. This is supposed to help me prepare for tomorrow's classes. Supposed to help me not look like an idiot in front of everyone again. But right now, it feels like the books are winning.
I pull my legs up, crossing them under me as I glare down at the book in front of me: Ritual Magic and Ceremonial Practices. The title alone makes my head hurt.
How am I supposed to understand any of this? The runes, the chants, the elaborate hand gestures?
My fingers trace the edge of the page absently as I stare at the symbols sketched in ink, each one twisting into something more incomprehensible than the last.
My eyes shift to the clock on my bedside table. It's already past seven. I've been at this for hours, and the words are blurring together. I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing at my temples. I can't show up tomorrow looking like a fool. Not again. Not after the disaster that was the last two days of classes.
Why is everything here so damn difficult?
I get it—magic isn't supposed to be easy. It's supposed to take practice, dedication, all that crap. But it's hard to "practice" when you don't even know where to start.
I flip the page and catch sight of a detailed drawing of some ancient ritual circle. My chest tightens at the sight of it. Am I really expected to be able to do this? It's bad enough I have to deal with my uncontrollable shadow magic, now I have to worry about all these rituals too?
I toss the book to the side and grab another one—The Basics of Occult Studies. The title is misleading; there's nothing basic about this.
I scan the first few paragraphs, trying to make sense of it. "The practice of the occult arts requires a deep understanding of both inner and outer energies..." Ugh. This is hopeless.
I push the book away with a frustrated sigh.
How am I supposed to learn to control my shadows when there's no one to teach me? No professor I can see after lunch, no mentor to guide me.
Hallowgate is supposed to have the best resources for people with magical affinities, but apparently, shadow magic doesn't make the cut.
My mind flickers to Draven, the only other person I know who has an affinity for shadows. No way in hell am I asking him for help. I'd rather eat glass. There has to be someone else. There's no way I'm the only student on campus besides Draven with this affinity. Right?
I make a mental note to ask Headmistress Voss and maybe my friends tomorrow. If there are others, maybe I can practice with them, get some semblance of control over this power that's been tearing through me since I got here. Because clearly, sitting in my room staring at books isn't cutting it.
I pull my knees up to my chest, leaning forward and resting my chin on them. I can do this. I have to do this. I can't keep going to class feeling like I'm a million steps behind everyone else.
