The Chronicles Of Willow High

CHAPTER TWO

***Elyse***

My hands shook even before I reached the registration desk. The letter from Willow High felt heavy in my bag, as if the crest itself carried the weight of every dream I’d ever dared to have.

I had imagined this moment too many times—the gates, the tall trees and buildings, the first step into a place where names were remembered. And now I am here. My throat was tight, but my feet kept moving.

The hall smelled faintly of ink and polished wood. Students pushed past me, some laughing, some already showing off their magic in sparks of light or tiny swirls of wind. I held my papers tighter, praying I wouldn’t embarrass myself.

“Name?” the woman at the desk asked without looking up. Her voice was clipped, sharp, like she had said the same word a thousand times today.

“Elyse Thorn,” I managed—eyes unable to focus.

She lifted my letter, studied the seal, then pressed a stamp onto it. The sound echoed like a hammer driving a nail. My fate was sealed.

“Welcome to Willow High. Sign here. Forms there. Orientation begins at dusk.”

I nodded quickly, barely remembering to breathe. I bent over the papers—then my fingers slipped.

The stack slid from my grasp and scattered across the stone floor.

Heat flamed up my neck to my cheeks. “No, no, no…” I whispered, dropping to my knees. Students passing by scoffed. I reached for the papers, hands trembling as I tried reaching for my documents, my vision blurring with panic.

Then, the air moved.

The forms floated gently off the floor, as if an invisible hand had scooped them up. They stacked themselves neatly and lowered into my arms.

I froze. My mouth fell open—eyes wandering around for answers.Then I saw her, a girl stood a few steps away, watching me with unreadable eyes. Black hair framed her face, and a silver ring glinted on her thumb. She held a book like it belonged to her more than anything else in the world.

“Careful,” she said softly. Her tone was calm, almost flat, but her fingers carried a faint glow of magic that faded as quickly as it had appeared.

“Wait—I—” I stammered, but before I could thank her, she was already gone, swallowed by the flow of students.

I hugged the papers to my chest, my pulse still racing. Who was she?

***

Later, I crossed the courtyard toward the dorm wings. The air outside smelled of fresh stone and earth. All around me, students were showing off—tiny firebursts, shifting shadows, wolves sparring with proud grins. The academy felt alive, humming with power, and I was just one small breath inside it.

I should have been looking ahead. I should have been paying attention. But my thoughts kept circling back to that girl and her casual magic.

And then my shoulder slammed into someone hard.

I stumbled back, my bag falling. Books, ribbons, and the small pen my mother had given me scattered across the ground.

“Watch it, Orca trash,” one of them sneered. His voice carried the kind of arrogance that came from knowing the world bent for you. One of the boys behind him laughed.

I dropped to my knees again, gathering my things quickly. My fingers shook as I reached for the pen, but the one that had just called me trash kicked it just out of reach. Their laughter stung like nettles.

“Look at her,” the one behind him muttered. “Already crawling.”

My throat ached, burning in anger. I’d been preparing for this—for mockery, for being looked down on—but it still hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened.

“Enough.”

The word cut through the courtyard. Calm, not loud—but sharp enough that every head turned.

The boys froze.

I looked up, it came from one of the two boys behind the one that just assaulted me.

He stepped forward like the space had been waiting for him all along. Dark hair, broad shoulders, a steady kind of strength that didn’t need to prove itself. His presence alone shifted the air.

He rested a hand on the shoulder of the one who had mocked me. His voice was calm but carried weight. “Gustavo… Let her be.”

Gustavo hesitated, his bravado faltering. He muttered something under his breath, but he stepped back.

The boy crouched down in front of me. He picked up my pen, brushing dirt from it before holding it out to me.

“You dropped this,” he said.

My fingers brushed his as I took it back. Warm. Steady.

“Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride,” I admitted, cheeks burning.

His lips twitched, the shadow of a smile. “Pride heals. Don’t let Gustavo bother you. He's harmless and you'll like him when you get to know him.”

He handed me the rest of my things—my papers, my ribbon—as if they were treasures, not scraps. And then he straightened, turning to go.

“Wait,” I blurted, before I could stop myself.

He paused, glancing back.

“Thank you,” I said quickly. My voice was soft but sure.

This time, his smile reached his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

And then he left, Gustavo and the other boy trailing behind him, still muttering.

I sat there a moment longer, clutching my pen so tightly my fingers ached. His voice lingered in my mind, steady and calm like an anchor. I didn’t even know his name yet.

***

Orca dorm stood plain against the cliffs, its walls simple wood and stone compared to the grander dorms. Still, when I pushed open the door to room twelve where I was assigned, it felt like a new beginning.

And then I froze.

The girl from earlier—the one who had lifted my papers with magic—sat cross-legged on one of the beds, reading.

She looked up as if she had been waiting. “So. You’re my roommate.”

“You…” My voice cracked. “You helped me earlier. With the papers.”

Her lips curved, faint but real. “Diacam Roosevelt.” She closed her book carefully. “Don’t make a habit of dropping things. Ledgers are sensitive. They sulk.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Thank you. Really.”

She shrugged, as if it was nothing. “We share a room now. Keep your side tidy. Don’t snore. And—don’t let them shrink you.”

I blinked. “Shrink me?”

Her eyes softened. “Everyone here will try. Some will use words. Some will use power. Fight them.”

The words hit deeper than I expected, as if she could see the smallness I carried in my chest.

Before I could answer, Diacam flicked her fingers. My ribbon, which I hadn’t noticed had fallen to the floor, floated up and tied itself neatly around my papers. Her magic was casual, precise, almost playful.

“See?” she said. “Not everything that falls has to stay down.”

I stared, wide-eyed. “That’s… incredible.”

She smirked faintly. “You’ll get used to it.”

***

That night, I lay on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. My heart still buzzed with the day’s weight.

Diacam—calm, mysterious, her magic neat and controlled.

Adriel—because that had to be his name, whispered once as Gustavo trailed after him. His steady voice still lingered in my mind.

Two rescues. Two reminders that I wasn’t completely invisible.

I slipped the Willow High letter from under my pillow and traced the crest with my thumb.

I had come here to prove myself. To be more than the girl who stumbled and got laughed at.

Tomorrow, I will stand taller.

Tomorrow, I will fight to make my name remembered.

Because I hadn’t come this far to be small.