Preface

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When the letter arrived, Blaise thought he was dreaming. His next thought was that he was hallucinating.

The next thought was that he was going to be dead.The school acceptance letter stared up at his face. His eyes darted between the letter and the kitchen and back, trying to convince himself he was imaging the nightmare he got himself into. Behind him, his mother was frenzily helping Blaise pack his bags, almost in a joyous manner.

The gigantic header on the letter, "LUXOR ACADEMY" spelled his doom. The academy he was accepted into, Luxor Academy was a school that gave its students an education fit for royalty, served food fit for a five-star restaurant, and provided luxurious dorms.

It was also a place where supernatural people went.

Rumor was that the past few years was when most people died at the school. It was considered normal at Luxor Academy for people to practice magic, for people to be trained in the art of sword fighting, and for elves and half-dragons to wander the halls. It wasn't unheard that the students had a predilection for fighting.

A friend that once attended the school described it as chaotic and eccentric. Demons littered the halls and magic was amok.

Blaise knew that he didn't belong there. With his hazel abomination eyes covered by wireframe glasses, slight build, and his brown mess of a hair that looked like someone took a pair of scissors and haphazardly made cuts, there was no chance that Blaise would fit in with those students.

Yet the acceptance letter laid in front of him as bright as day. Blaise had a feeling that his younger sister, Adrian, set this up. But he knew his parents wouldn't believe that. Blaise himself wouldn't believe that. Adrian was not that malicious to send Blaise to his demise.

Behind him, Blaise could sense Adrian's presence, looking at the scene unfolding in Blaise's bedroom with polite curiosity. Of course, she had her flagship smartphone, busy texting her friends, probably about Blaise's predicament. Blaise could already imagine the texts that she was sending, and the thought of them made Blaise scowl.

"Oh Cessair, honey, wipe that frown off your face," his mother demanded, "You're going to a new school!" She continued stuffing what little things Blaise had into the old and frayed bag with a servant excitement, carelessly stuffing a snow globe in followed by two heavy books.

"But do you know what type of school this is?" Blaise objected, waving the acceptance letter around.

"Now, young man, don't you dare talk like that to me," his mother, a moment ago bright and cheerful, glared sternly at a fuming Blaise. Behind him, Adrian snickered. In his defense, Blaise didn't actually raise his voice, "This is a highly rated school, and you are going to attend it with a smile.

"This is a handsome opportunity provided to you," his father said. Blaise didn't hear him sneak up behind him, "I expect you to take it and shut up."

Blaise opened his mouth to protest, but nothing can out. So less than twelve hours later, he was on a plane without a chance to say goodbye to his friends, headed toward his new school, a bag of luggage in the back of the plane, headed toward what seemed like certain death.

In the airport were signs that the school was trouble. Two teenagers armed with katanas fought, while another group did a magic show with bright looking ribbons of magic.

As the plane ride went on, Blaise pondered the occurrence of his acceptance, given nothing to do but ponder or watch the movie he couldn't half hear over the roar of the airplane.

Blaise wasn't from a rich family. There was no way that his family could have afforded the tuition. So how did he get a scholarship? How did the mix up happen?

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