The Luna Academy

The Weight of Expectations

“Dear child, where have you been?!” Elder Yona’s voice cracks through the early morning like a whip. She takes note of my wrapped-up hand. “My Goddess. Are you okay?”

“I—I…” My throat closes.

“Oh my, you must be very shaken to be left so speechless. Perhaps if you’d paid closer attention during the tour, you would have heard me say several times not to go into the forest alone. Especially at night,” she scolds.

I retreat into myself, unsure what burns worse, the betrayal of the stranger who lied to me, or the devastation of being dragged back here. Elder Yona grips my good arm and guides me toward the main building. Instead of steering me back toward the dorms, she leads me inside.

“With everything we witnessed last night,” she begins in a calm, nearly casual tone, “there is some confusion about where you should be.”

Shit. They know.

My pulse spikes. I wasn’t able to show any magic. Now they’ll see I’m a fraud. They’ll shame me, cast me out, maybe even make an example of me.

We climb to the fifth floor, my stomach sinking lower with every step. Elder Yona’s hand never leaves my arm, her grip gentle but firm, like she knows if she lets go, I’ll bolt again. She ushers me into a lounge tucked off the main hall. The space is quiet. Too quiet.

A wide couch faces a wall of windows, bookshelves lining one side. The faint scent of fresh flowers drifts through the room, soft but disconcerting. It looks like a place meant for rest, yet to me, it feels more like a holding cell dressed in cushions.

“Sit,” Elder Yona instructs, her tone sharp, as if I’m a child who’s misbehaved.

I lower myself onto the couch, every muscle tight, every sound amplified. The thud of my heartbeat rattles in my ears. The soft click of her shoes fades as she steps into the adjoining room. The door swings to close but doesn’t catch, leaving the faintest c***k.

Voices rise beyond the gap, low at first, almost like a murmur of bees until I twist, just enough to peek through the opening. My breath snags in my throat. They’re talking about me.

Headmaster Lyra stands with Elder Yona and three other figures I don’t recognize—Elders, I assume.

“The child must surely be in the wrong dorm,” a broad-shouldered man asserts, his tone clipped and skeptical. “What we witnessed last night was the strength of a wolf. No witch could tear through doors like she did.”

“That makes no sense,” Elder Yona fires back. “We don’t decide their placement. The magic does.”

“Even the founders’ magic can falter,” another man, dressed in beige robes, which kind of remind me of a potato sack, presses.

“Bite your tongue, Harold,” Elder Yona snaps.

“I suggest we move her to my squadron. The only ones with her kind of strength are wolves. There’s no other explanation,” the rugged man suggests.

“There is one more possibility,” the oldest man in the group speaks at last, his tone measured.

My stomach knots.

“It can’t be,” Harold cuts in.

“Then explain her strength. She could be a hybrid,” the old man retorts.

The word slices through me like a blade. Hybrid.

“Hybrids are royal,” Harold argues. “She’s from some tiny village in the north. That doesn’t add up to royalty. And as far as we know, all royal descendants are accounted for with no bastards to be aware of.”

“Who’s to say—”

“Enough,” Headmaster Lyra’s voice cuts clean through the bickering.

I jerk back toward the couch, heart hammering as if I’ve been caught, though no one has seen me yet. After my breath slows, I turn back to look.

“The magic placed her with Yona, and there she shall remain,” Lyra declares. “But her strength is undeniable. For now, she’ll join Barret in the wolves’ training classes. It’s clear she can’t yet control it. Yona, you and I will closely monitor her progression. If no powers surface within the coming weeks, she will be moved permanently to the wolves’ dorm. If they do appear…” she pauses, her gaze unreadable. “… then we will be having a very different conversation.”

The others take the Headmaster’s lead, and Elder Yona looks up and catches my eye. I turn around quickly and shut my eyes, hoping I’d somehow become invisible if I kept them closed long enough. Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate, until they stop in front of me.

I slowly open my eyes to reveal Elder Yona standing with her hands on her hips with a pouting look on her face.

“Come, child. Will have a nurse check on your hand later. For now, let’s get you back to your room for some rest. Will start fresh tomorrow so get cleaned up and have a meal. I’ll come and meet you later and discuss everything you might of overheard.”

I nod, speechless. She guides me back to my room, waiting until I’m fully inside before leaving. I strip off yesterday’s clothes and step into the shower, letting the water wash away the dirt and dried blood clinging to my skin. Steam builds, clouding the air as heat seeps into my sore muscles.

Standing there, entranced, I watch the grime spiral down the drain until the image of Oliver’s face slams into my mind, stealing my balance. My foot slips on the slick floor, and I catch myself against the shower wall, soaking the bandage I’ve been trying to keep dry. Twisting the water off, I grab a towel and press it to my skin.

After undoing the wet gauze, I take a better look at the wound now that there’s proper lighting. Looking down at my palm, which should be swollen and purple, I’m startled to see the fresh cut already beginning to heal.

I must be tired, or maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as I thought. Shuffling to the bed, I plop down onto the mattress and fall asleep instantly.

***

“Ms. Alyssa. It’s me, Elder Yona. I’m here to check in on you,” she announces from the other side of the door.

I look out my window and notice the sun is already starting to set, and the orange hue is turning purple. Rolling off the bed, I slump my way to the door and open it.

“Oh my, Alyssa, you truly look like you have had a rough few days. May I come in for a chat with you for a moment?”

Instead of answering, I step aside and open the door more, gesturing for her to come in. Elder Yona takes a seat on the desk chair while I sit across from her on my bed. Staring at her, I wait for her to speak, because I’m not sure what to say.

“I suppose I’ll start with what you overheard earlier…” Elder Yona folds her hands in her lap, her expression thoughtful, almost tired. She walks me back through the conversation — the Elders’ arguing, the doubt in their voices, the way they wrestled over where I belonged. “It’s… chaotic, yes, but it’s to be expected. When something unknown enters our world, it unsettles everything. You are the first of something we did not anticipate. That alone is enough to make people uneasy.”

My stomach twists while my heart pounds in my ears. The first of something they didn’t anticipate? This doesn’t sound promising.

“Until you show magic,” she continues, her voice steady, “you’ll remain in your basic spellwork and potion classes. But instead of skills practice with the other witches, you’ll be training with Elder Jason and the shifters.”

I blink at her, doe-eyed and silent, as the words sink like stones.

“Training? What like… Like fighting? Running drills?” my words tumble out with panic. “…with wolves?”

Her mouth curves into the faintest smile.

“Yes. You showed strength last night—albeit raw and untempered, but strength nonetheless. You must hone it, Alyssa, for power left wild does not stay silent for long. It will spill out of you in ways that will bring danger to anyone who stands in its path,” Elder Yona warns.

I drop my gaze to my hands, flexing my nearly healed palm. Danger?

Her tone softens. “But listen to me carefully, child. You must be prepared. People will stare and whisper. Not because you’ve done wrong, but because they don’t know what you are.”

Her words sink deeper than I want to admit. Great, so the idea of being invisible is surely out the window. I swallow hard, feeling the air in my chest tighten. It’s like I’m a bug in a jar, trapped for everyone to see but never to touch. The walls close in around me as the thought of being trapped in misery fills me.

I guess it could be worse. I could be home with Mom.