I’m running as fast as I can, but the air feels thick—like it’s being sucked away by a vacuum, leaving only a fraction of the oxygen I need. I don’t know why I’m running; all I can feel is the desperate need to keep moving, to find an escape, or I’ll collapse—shattered into pieces. Where is the exit? I can barely see anything around me, but I know I’m being chased. I can’t look back. I won’t. But I can’t keep this pace much longer.

Wait... where am I?

It’s strange, this life-or-death race. One moment, you’re living your best life without even realizing it, and the next, you're haunted by the past, wishing you could go back to those days, just for a moment.

Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes. My usually messy, but neatly styled, curly hair is now a wild tangle, flying in all directions. The only sounds are my labored breaths and the rhythmic thud of my shoes against the ground.

I take a sharp left, then immediately veer right, then right again. And that’s when it hits me—I’m trapped in a marble maze.

But this isn’t just any maze. This place is one of the last remnants of the Kingdom of Fannas, now known as The Academy. It feels… familiar. Almost like it’s calling me, pulling me toward the center of its massive circular walls. It’s overwhelming. It feels like home—but home with a threat. The irony is, I’ve never been here before in my life.

I pause, letting the dizzying sensation wash over me. But it’s too much. That brief moment of stillness is all it takes for the shadow to catch up. I feel it closing in, right behind me. It’s too late. I’m going to die.

Slowly, I turn around, bracing myself for whatever’s coming.

"Welcome home," the figure says.

Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, a deafening explosion tears through the air. One… two… three...

I gasp, eyes snapping open as I inhale a desperate breath. My nightclothes cling to my body, drenched in sweat. My mother’s voice is pounding through the door, telling me it’s time to wake up.

"Coming!" I called out to my mother, my voice cracking with urgency. Judging by the sharp raps on my door, I must have overslept—she never bangs like that unless it’s serious. I stretched, taking a deep breath, but the remnants of the nightmare clung to me like cobwebs. It had felt so real.

Today marks one of the most significant events in all the land: the day every child is sent to The Academy. It’s the pinnacle of our society, an institution dedicated entirely to us, the children. At sixteen, we pack our belongings, bid farewell to our families, and embark on a fourteen-year journey of discovery, knowledge, and transformation. Fourteen years might sound like a lifetime, but with our long lifespan, it’s merely a chapter.

The Academy is unique—not bound by titles or societal ranks, but by powers and abilities. That’s what excites me most. I’m the daughter of King Aelric and Queen Elira of the Kingdom of Aisling, younger sister to Princes Lukkah and Petros. By all accounts, I’m a princess. But truthfully? I’ve always felt out of place here.

In Aisling, everything is structured and immaculate: how you speak, how you dress, how you maintain your room—every detail reflects your status. And yet, I’m a walking contradiction. I snack whenever I want, regardless of decorum. My hair is a perpetual mess, as though it has a mind of its own. My books are rarely in order, scattered across every surface. My parents often look at me with exasperation, their disappointment palpable as they remind me what a proper princess should be.

Maybe The Academy will change that. Maybe it’ll mold me into the perfect princess they’ve always dreamed of—or at the very least, help me figure out who I’m supposed to be. The thought sends a tingle of anticipation through me. The Academy has always felt… mysterious, almost like it’s been calling to me my entire life.

But then there’s the nightmare. It was so vivid, so consuming, that even now, fully awake, it lingers. I tell myself it was just my nerves playing tricks on me. First-day jitters, right? Still, a small, nagging doubt refuses to let go.

I dress quickly, smoothing out my tunic before grabbing my favorite purple cardigan. With one last glance around my room, I step out into the hallway, silently praying to the god of luck, Doileag, that this journey will bring better days—and not worse.

The hallways of the palace stretched before me, their pristine walls adorned with tapestries depicting the history of Aisling. Every step I took echoed loudly in the silence, as if the building itself were watching me leave. Servants scurried past, casting me polite smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. They knew as well as I did: today wasn’t just about The Academy. Today was the start of something.

By the time I reached the dining hall, my brothers were already seated, their plates piled high with roasted meats, eggs, and fresh bread. Lukkah, ever the perfectionist, was seated primly, his posture impossibly straight. Petros, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, one foot kicked up on the edge of the table, earning a glare from our mother.

"Good morning, sister," Lukkah greeted me, his tone annoyingly chipper. "Excited for your grand adventure?"

Before I could answer, Petros snorted. "More like terrified. Look at her—she barely slept."

I shot him a glare and plopped down in my seat. "I’m fine, thank you very much," I muttered, reaching for a piece of bread.

Mother’s disapproving gaze swept over me as I tore into the bread without bothering to butter it. "Sitheil," she said, her tone sharp enough to slice through stone, "you represent our family. Do try to remember that."

I forced myself to chew slowly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, Mother," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Father cleared his throat, his deep voice commanding the room. "Sitheil, today marks the beginning of your future. The Academy is not merely a place of learning; it is a crucible. You will be tested, pushed to your limits, and only through perseverance will you emerge stronger." He leaned forward, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "You carry the blood of Aisling. Never forget that."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over me like a cloak. My family had always expected greatness, and while Lukkah and Petros seemed to wear that mantle with ease, I felt like I was constantly tripping over it.

After breakfast, the time came to leave. The royal carriages were already waiting in the courtyard, their gold-trimmed wheels glinting in the sunlight. A crowd had gathered to watch the departure, their cheers echoing off the palace walls.

I hesitated at the top of the steps, clutching the strap of my satchel. For a moment, the weight of it all pressed down on me: the expectations, the unknown, and that lingering unease from the nightmare.

"You’ll be fine, Sitheil," Lukkah said, his voice calm and reassuring. "We’ll be there together."

"Yeah," Petros added, flashing a grin. "Don’t worry. If you trip over your own feet, I’ll catch you."

I rolled my eyes, but their words comforted me more than I cared to admit.

We climbed into the carriage, our satchels stacked neatly in the corner. The sound of hooves on stone filled the air as the carriage rolled forward, the palace shrinking behind us. For a while, we rode in silence, the three of us lost in our own thoughts.

The landscape outside the window began to shift, the familiar rolling hills of Aisling giving way to dense forests and winding rivers. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light across the land, the first sign of The Academy appeared on the horizon.

A towering spire rose above the treetops, its surface shimmering as though made of liquid silver. My breath caught in my throat, and I noticed that even Lukkah, ever composed, was leaning forward for a better view.

"That’s it," Petros said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "The Academy."

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight. Something about it felt... familiar, as if I’d seen it before in a dream—or a nightmare. The closer we drew to the spire, the more certain I became: The Academy wasn’t just calling to me. It was waiting.