The letter had arrived on a Tuesday, slipped beneath the door of Y/n’s cramped apartment with no postmark, no return address, no explanation.`

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Just heavy, cream-colored parchment sealed with black wax.`

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A crest embossed in silver—a crescent moon cradling an open book, a single drop of blood suspended above the pages.`

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Noctis Academy.`

`

Y/n had never heard of it. There was no website, no photos, no mention of it anywhere except a single line on the envelope, elegant cursive that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light: “Congratulations. We look forward to welcoming you.”`

`

Most people would’ve called it suspicious.`

`

Y/n called it a miracle.`

`

`

`

The carriage ride took three hours. Through winding forest roads that didn’t appear on any map, past ancient trees whose branches intertwined overhead like grasping fingers. The driver never spoke, only nodded when Y/n tried to ask questions.`

`

Then the mist parted.`

`

Noctis Academy rose from the treeline like something carved from a dream. Towering stone walls, ivy-soaked and ancient. Stained-glass windows that caught the dying sun and scattered colors across the courtyard below. Turrets and spires that pierced the gray sky.`

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The gates groaned open.`

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And every conversation in the courtyard stopped.`

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Hundreds of faces turned. Not with curiosity. With hunger.`

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A strange silence settled, thick as the mist. Then whispers.`

`

`

`

A young man with messy black hair stood frozen, one hand pressed flat against the cold glass. His knuckles had gone white.`

`