Starborn Shadows

Chapter One The wards should have hummed. Isla noticed it the moment she stepped inside, though she didn’t dwell on it. The door clicked shut behind her and she kicked off her shoes by habit, pausing just a second longer than usual, like she was waiting for the familiar pressure in the air to settle around her. Nothing did. Probably nothing, she told herself, already moving on. “Mira?” she called. Her voice carried through the house. “I’m here. Don’t shout like I’m missing,” came the reply from the kitchen. Isla exhaled, a small mix of relief and irritation she didn’t bother unpacking. “Didn’t know you were back already.” Mira appeared a moment later, wiping her hands on a cloth. She smelled faintly of herbs and something slightly burnt, like she’d gotten distracted mid-cooking. Her hair was loose, uneven in the way it always was after a long day outside. “You think I go into the forest and get lost every time?” Mira asked. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to.” Isla dropped her bag by the wall and stepped in properly. The house felt normal again—or maybe she’d stopped paying attention to what felt off. Either way, it was easier not to think about it. Mira turned back to the stove. “Wash your hands. Food’s almost ready.” “I just came in.” “And you just touched everything outside.” Isla sighed but went anyway. That was how it always went—small arguments that weren’t really arguments, just routine. A few minutes later, they were eating. Nothing special. Just something warm and familiar. Mira ate like she’d forgotten all day and was making up for it, while Isla picked at her food at first before giving in. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It never was. Then Mira leaned back slightly. “I saw something today.” Isla glanced up. “What kind of something?” Mira reached into a pouch beside her and pulled out a folded paper. “That kind.” She slid it across the table. Isla looked at it, then picked it up. Her name was written on the front. “What is this?” “Open it.” Isla did. Her eyes moved over the page, slow at first, then more carefully. Then she paused. “…Velmorne Academy?” “Yes.” Isla frowned and looked up. “I didn’t apply to any academy.” “I know.” Isla blinked. “You know?” “I applied for you.” There was a pause. “You what?” “It was on the list,” Mira said, like that explained anything. “Places worth your time. Velmorne was one of them.” Isla let out a short breath. “So you just decided I was going somewhere and sent applications without telling me?” “I decided to give you options.” “That’s not an option if I didn’t even know about it.” “You know now.” “That’s not how options work.” Mira shrugged. “You’re still free to say no.” Am I? Isla thought, staring down at the letter again. It didn’t feel like a choice. It felt like something already set in motion. “This one is full scholarship,” Mira added. “You don’t pay anything. They cover everything.” Isla narrowed her eyes. “That’s… not normal.” “No, it’s not.” She kept reading. “They’re not even asking for entrance fees?” “They are not.” “Why would they just give me a scholarship?” “Because they want you there.” That settled uncomfortably. “That sounds worse.” “It usually is.” Isla leaned back slightly, the letter still in her hand. Velmorne Academy. She’d heard of it. Everyone had. Not a place people just… ended up in. “They don’t just take anyone,” she said. “No.” “And you thought I’d just get in?” “I knew they’d look.” That didn’t make it better. “When did you even send this?” “Months ago.” Isla let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “And you didn’t think to mention it?” “I wanted to see if anything would come back first.” Of course you did, Isla thought. Of course you waited until it was real. “So what, I just leave and go there?” “If you want to.” “That sounds like forcing me with extra steps.” Mira’s mouth curved slightly. “Isla.” “What?” “You’ve been stuck here too long.” “I’m not stuck.” “You are. And you know it.” Isla looked away. The worst part was that she did know it. She just didn’t like hearing it out loud. Mira pushed her plate aside. “This place is good. But it’s not enough for what you are.” “I didn’t ask to be anything,” Isla muttered. “I know.” That softened something, just a little. Mira tapped the letter. “Velmorne will understand you better than I can teach you alone.” “That sounds dramatic.” “It’s not.” Isla exhaled quietly. “So what do I do if I go there?” “Learn. Don’t get yourself killed. Try not to make enemies in the first week.” “That last one sounds impossible.” “It usually is for you.” A small, reluctant smile tugged at Isla’s mouth before she looked back down at the letter. “And you’re okay with this?” Mira didn’t answer immediately. She just looked at her, like she was committing something to memory. Then she nodded. “Yes.” Isla waited for more. It didn’t come. Instead, Mira reached across the table and tapped her forehead lightly. “Just don’t forget where home is.” “I don’t forget things.” “Good,” Mira said, standing. “Then you won’t forget that either.” She took the plates and moved away. Isla stayed where she was, staring at the letter. Velmorne Academy. It didn’t feel real yet. But it didn’t feel avoidable either. “…I’ll think about it,” she said eventually. “That’s a yes trying to behave like a maybe,” Mira replied from the sink. Isla didn’t argue. *** That night, Isla stood in her room staring at the open bag on her bed for far longer than she intended. It looked wrong sitting there, like it didn’t belong to her life yet. Like it was waiting for a decision she hadn’t actually made. “This is stupid,” she muttered under her breath. Still, she stepped closer and started packing. Not carefully. Not with any real plan. Just… moving. Picking things up, putting them down somewhere else, trying not to think too hard about what any of it meant. Clothes went in first—easy, practical, things she didn’t have to question. But when she reached for her books, she slowed. Her fingers hovered over them. I’m not even going, she told herself, almost stubbornly. Her hands didn’t listen. She picked one up, turned it over briefly like it might argue with her, then placed it into the bag anyway. Another followed. Then another. “I’ll come back for you,” she said quietly, not entirely sure why she felt the need to say it out loud. The door opened without warning. “You’re packing too aggressively,” Mira said. Isla didn’t turn immediately. “I’m not packing.” Mira stepped further into the room, her gaze moving from Isla to the bag and back again. She didn’t say anything for a second, just watched her with that same calm, knowing look Isla had never quite figured out how to deal with. “I said I’m thinking about it,” Isla added, a little more defensive this time. “Mhm.” That was all Mira said. She moved past Isla, opened a drawer, and pulled out a small cloth pouch. It looked worn, like it had been kept for a long time. “Take this.” Isla frowned, finally turning. “What is it?” “Don’t lose it.” “That’s not an explanation.” “It’s not meant to be.” Isla hesitated, studying her for a moment like she might push further, then didn’t. She took the pouch and dropped it into her bag without opening it, though she could feel its weight immediately. “You’re acting like I’m leaving forever,” she said, quieter now. Mira didn’t answer that. Instead, she glanced at the bag again. “You’ll need decent boots,” she said. “And don’t forget extra thread. You always rip something when you’re annoyed.” “I don’t get annoyed.” Mira looked at her. Isla held the stare for a second, then exhaled. “Fine.” Mira nodded once, like that settled something, and turned to leave. She didn’t say anything else before closing the door behind her. Isla stood there a while longer, staring at the bag again. I’m not going, she thought. She added another shirt anyway. *** The next morning, Isla woke up already tired of thinking about it. The decision sat somewhere in the back of her mind, heavy and unfinished, like something she couldn’t quite ignore but didn’t want to face either. She stayed in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling before finally sitting up. Her gaze drifted to the letter. It was exactly where she had left it. For a moment, she considered leaving it there. Not touching it again. Not giving it any more weight than it already had. Then she reached for it anyway. “I’ll just check something,” she muttered, more to justify the movement than anything else. She unfolded it slowly this time, her eyes skimming over the same lines she had already read the night before. Velmorne Academy. Full scholarship. Everything covered. She paused, frowning slightly. Something about it felt unfinished. Like she had missed something the first time. Her eyes moved down again, slower now, more deliberate. Then they caught on a smaller line at the bottom. One she hadn’t paid attention to before. All personal and academic supplies will be provided upon arrival. Isla blinked. “…You’re joking.” She read it again. Then once more, just to be sure it hadn’t somehow changed. It hadn’t. A quiet realization settled in, slow and unavoidable. So… I don’t need anything. Her gaze shifted to the half-packed bag sitting on her bed. Clothes. Books. The pouch Mira had given her. All the things she had started gathering without really thinking. All unnecessary. A breath left her, caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant amusement. “I packed emotionally for nothing,” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. From the other room, Mira’s voice carried in, calm as ever. “You read it properly this time.” Of course she knew. Isla shook her head slightly, folding the letter again with more care than before. “You could have just said something,” she called back. “And miss the experience?” Mira replied. Isla almost smiled. Almost. She looked around her room then—at the bag, the things she hadn’t packed, the things she had. It all felt different now. Not heavier. Not lighter. Just… decided. Because now there was nothing left to prepare for. No errands to run. No supplies to gather. No excuses left to delay it. Just the leaving. And whether she liked it or not She already had.