The Heart of Zorrah

Chapter Two

Looking around, I noticed small groups of young people scattered across the vast hall with vaulted ceilings. No one was paying any attention to me. Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled, but right now, I need a little help. I had no idea where to go or what to do next. My belongings had been sent ahead with a special transport spell, set to the academy’s address. They were supposed to be delivered straight to my room. Each aristocratic student was assigned a private chamber, while those of lesser lineage shared rooms with one or two others. I had learned all this from the instructions that had come with my invitation.

“So where do I go? Who can I ask for help?”

“That handsome one over there is dying to help you,” came a familiar whisper at the edge of my consciousness. “Look at the size of his head— he must be a genius! You should befriend someone like him. Profitable and productive.”

I turned and locked eyes with a tall, shaggy-haired young man who was watching me with interest. No wonder Iz had commented on his head size—his wild, unkempt hair made him look like a ruffled dog. Suddenly, he winked at me. I froze.

What does he think he’s doing? The last thing I needed was to get tangled up with the local heartbreaker, collecting girls’ affections like dragga seeds. My father’s example had long cured me of girlish romantic illusions—forever.

Huffing, I turned away from the boy and remained standing in the middle of the hall, lost, observing the surrounding students. My restless alter ego continued to chatter in my mind, making it impossible to focus.

“Look at that dress! Must cost as much as two Rementhal stallions.”

“Shhh! Quiet, Iz! You’re distracting me.”

“Well, fine then, go to—” She trailed off suggestively.

“Go where exactly?” I hissed in response.

“To the dean’s office! Stop standing there like a country girl lost at the market.”

Now that was a sensible thought. I decided to head toward the only exit and find a quiet corner where I could properly examine the map hidden in my inner pocket. Carefully weaving my way through clusters of students, I reached the massive double doors and stepped out into a wide corridor.

The air buzzed with farewells, last-minute advice, and laughter. In the midst of all this, I desperately needed a pocket of peace.

I found one at the end of the corridor, tucked between a half-open office door and a window. Pressing myself into the corner, I pulled out my crumpled map and started studying it.

That’s when I heard voices from the office.

“You owe me,” said a man.

“You never let me forget it,” came the low, rumbling reply. “If not for that debt, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger. I don’t babysit students.”

“But lucky for me, you do owe me—and I demand repayment.”

“Don’t expect much from me. And don’t forget who you’re talking to.” A sharp edge slipped into the voice before melting back into a smooth, husky tone. “You know what happens when people try to pressure me.”

“I—I do,” the other man’s voice wavered.

“Good. Remember that.”

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, then silence.

I had just eavesdropped on a conversation I was never meant to hear. The last thing I wanted was trouble on my first day, so I held my breath and waited for the second man to leave. But instead, a rough voice spoke right above me.

“No one ever told you that eavesdropping is dangerous for you?”

Startled, I jumped. Slowly lifting my head, I found myself trapped in the depths of ink-black eyes. That gaze pulled me in, dark velvet wrapping around my senses. For a second, I even forgot how to breathe. A shiver ran down my spine, and an inexplicable urge welled up inside me—to lean closer, to glimpse what lay hidden in that mesmerizing darkness.

Then I felt it. My mental shield bending under the pressure of foreign magic.

With a jolt, I forced myself to break free of the enchantment, exhaling sharply in outrage.

Zorrah, help me. Who is this man?

Panic gripped me, though I refused to let it show. This stranger wielded mental magic and could have easily shattered the ancestral shields every aristocrat was born with. But luckily, I had Iz. She could block any outside influence. Breaking through our barriers was nearly impossible. Only if I willingly lowered them could he see beyond the first layer of my aura.

And I had no intention of letting him in.

Sensing the resistance, the man let out an amused hum—and waited for my response.

Lork! I was supposed to say something! My thoughts scattered in my now-empty mind.

“I—I…”

“Yes?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping! I was just looking at my map. See?” I nearly shoved it in his face.

The weight of his unimpressed stare grew heavier.

“Your name?”

“M-Mirrah Eshtar,” I stammered.

“Is that so?” One dark brow lifted in mild surprise. “I wouldn’t have expected a descendant of such an ancient and respected house to be so… inquisitive.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes. I understand. A coincidence. Spare me the details. Just make sure I don’t catch you eavesdropping again. Understood?”

I nodded so vigorously it was a wonder my head stayed on my shoulders. Then, slipping sideways out of my ill-fated hiding spot, I met his narrowed gaze one last time before retreating.

“Phew! That was close,” Iz whispered in my head.

“Something tells me this isn’t over,” I muttered back.

By the time I reached the doors of the dean’s office, slightly out of breath, the shaggy-haired winker from before was just stepping out. He froze upon seeing me. Doing my best to ignore him, I squeezed past into the office. Smirking, he spun on his heels and strolled away.

The secretary, a woman of entirely forgettable appearance, barely looked up as she handed me a stack of papers. I hadn’t even had time to ask a question—apparently, I wasn’t the only lost soul today. After she rattled off instructions to me and another student who had entered, we made our way toward the examination hall. The girl strode ahead, completely ignoring me. Shrugging, I followed.

Inside, rows of desks stretched across the vast room, most already occupied. I found a seat in the farthest corner by the window. Glancing outside, I saw an endless wall of forest. Not at all like my homeland’s Dark Woods, but it stirred the same deep, bittersweet warmth in my chest.

Then, a woman in the professor’s robes entered.

“Welcome to our academy,” she said, smiling brilliantly.

A collective sigh rippled through the room. She was breathtakingly beautiful—slim and ethereal, like all Florinnians.

“My name is Professor Larini. I teach air magic and mental influence over lesser minds.”

“Lesser minds?” Iz mused. “Who does she mean? Lorks? Mantors?”

“Maybe because they don’t speak our language?”

“Iz, hush! I can’t hear the professor because of you!”

Thankfully, Iz quieted just as Larini continued.

“We will call you forward one by one to determine your abilities—and possibly your Talents. The examination will be conducted with the Stone of Truth.”

Another wave of whispers passed through the room.

The Stone of Truth—an ancient relic from the Age of Gods. It revealed one’s essence, magic, everything hidden beneath layers of aura. Nothing could be concealed from it.

I tensed.

This time, there would be no hiding my Talent.