Chapter 2: The Last Goodbye

Dawn broke over St. Agnes's with shades of purple I'd never noticed before. Maybe it was knowing I'd never see this view again, or maybe it was the way my powers had been more difficult to control since receiving the acceptance letter. Either way, the sunrise painted the dormitory in colors that seemed to whisper ancient secrets.

I finished packing my life into a worn leather satchel—three sets of clothes, my mother's journal with its unreadable script, and the acceptance letter that still hummed with magical energy. The scholarship had included a stipend for school supplies and uniforms, which I'd collect once I reached the Academy.

"Miss Nightshade." Mrs. Blackwood's voice made me jump. She stood in the doorway, her silver hair pulled back in its usual severe bun. "A word before you leave?"

My heart thundered. Had she noticed something last night? The star I'd inadvertently influenced?

Following her down the cramped hallway, I practiced the breathing exercises that usually helped mask my connection to the celestial bodies. But even those weren't working as well lately. Each step past the other orphans' rooms reminded me of close calls over the years—the night I'd accidentally created aurora lights during a nightmare, the time I'd made meteor showers sync with my heartbeat.

Mrs. Blackwood's office was exactly as it had been the day I arrived: star charts covering the walls (oh, the irony), ancient tomes on conventional magic stacked in precarious towers, and a desk that had seen better centuries.

"Sit," she said, closing the door.

I perched on the edge of the threadbare chair, hands clasped to hide their trembling.

"Your mother left this for you." She pulled out a small wooden box, intricate constellations carved into its surface. "With instructions to give it to you when you enrolled in magical education."

My throat tightened. "You knew my mother?"

"No." Mrs. Blackwood's eyes held something I couldn't read. "She left you here with this box and a note. That's all I know."

The box felt warm in my hands, thrumming with a familiar energy that made my pulse quicken. Inside lay a silver pendant in the shape of a crown, small enough to fit in my palm. Starlight seemed to dance across its surface.

"There's something else." Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward. "Your scholarship... it wasn't just your test scores. Someone paid for your placement at CAM. Someone powerful."

"What? But the letter said—"

"The letter says what they want you to believe." She glanced at the star charts on her walls. "Be careful at the Academy, Lyra. Not everything that glitters is starlight."

Before I could process her cryptic warning, a horn sounded outside—the skyship, arriving early.

"One last thing." Mrs. Blackwood pressed a sealed envelope into my hands. "If you find yourself in true danger, open this. Not before."

I stood on shaky legs, the pendant now hanging around my neck beneath my clothes, the mysterious envelope tucked safely in my journal. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't thank me yet." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, and Lyra? Your eyes are glowing again."

I rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection showed what I feared—violet eyes burning like distant stars. I forced myself to calm down, watching as they dimmed to their usual color.

Outside, Sarah waited with the other residents of St. Agnes's. She hugged me fiercely, slipping something into my pocket.

"For luck," she whispered. "Don't look at it until you're on the ship."

The skyship loomed above, its crystalline sails catching the morning light. A few other students were already boarding, their expensive robes marking them as scholarship students from wealthier backgrounds.

As I stepped onto the gangplank, I glanced back one last time. Mrs. Blackwood stood at her window, making a strange gesture I'd never seen before. Sarah waved, wiping tears with her free hand. The other orphans watched with mixed expressions of envy and concern.

The pendant burned against my skin, and overhead, the stars pulsed despite being invisible in the morning sky. I touched the spot where Sarah's gift sat in my pocket, took a deep breath, and stepped into my new life.

Only when the ship lifted into the clouds did I pull out Sarah's parting gift—a small mirror compact with words etched on the back: "So you never forget who you really are."

I snapped it shut as tears threatened to fall. The irony wasn't lost on me. Everyone thought they were helping me remember who I was, when all I wanted was to forget.

The Academy's spires appeared on the horizon, piercing the clouds like silver needles. As we drew closer, the pendant grew warmer, and a strange certainty settled over me: Mrs. Blackwood was right.

This wasn't just about school anymore. Someone had planned this—planned for me. And as the first towers of CAM cast their shadows over the ship, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was flying straight into a trap.

The stars pulsed again, stronger now, their song more urgent than ever. Something was waiting for me at the Academy. Something that knew exactly what I was.

And I was about to walk right through its front doors.