I rushed to the door and opened it quickly.
But the moment I saw what was on the other side, I froze. There were people sitting around a large round table. It was made of polished wood warm, familiar. It looked just like the celebration tables we had in the dragon village. The soft candlelight filled the room with a golden glow. People were smiling, talking, laughing. For a second, I forgot where I was. It looked like home. Then I heard a voice from the table, light and playful. "Mommy, I told you not to wear that. It's too old-fashioned." I blinked. That voice... I knew it. My heart started beating faster as I followed the sound. That's when I saw them. Aurora. My sister. My parents. Even Oma. All sitting at the table, eating together. Laughing like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like nothing had happened at all. Tears rushed to my eyes. Without thinking, I ran to Aurora and threw my arms around her. I held her tight and buried my face into her shoulder. "Aurora!" I cried out. "Thank the Goddess. It was all a dream! You're okay!" But something was wrong. She didn't hug me back. Instead, she pushed me away with one finger. One finger. As if I was dirty. As if I disgusted her. "What the hell?" she muttered, wiping her hand. "What's wrong with the maid, Mom?" Maid? The word hit me like a slap. In the dragon village, a maid was someone who helped around the house. But I wasn't a maid. I was I looked around, confused. "Mom? Dad? It's me Fiona. Come on, stop joking." They all stared at me like I was a stranger. "Who are you calling Mom and Dad?" someone snapped. Her voice was sharp and cold. I turned. It was Oma or at least someone who looked just like her. "Are you still dreaming or something?" she asked, frowning at me like I was crazy. "No… this can't be happening," I whispered. I tried to laugh, to act like it was some weird prank. But my hands were shaking. I looked at Aurora again, really looked this time. That's when I saw it. It wasn't her. Aurora had long white hair. This girl had blond hair. Softer features. Her nose was different. Her eyes didn't have the same glow. I stepped back, my chest tight. "This isn't real. What is this place?" Why did they look so much like my family, but weren't them? Was this a trap? A mistake? There's no way my father could've sent me here on purpose. Then the man at the table spoke. His voice was loud and full of annoyance. "You're about to lose your job and your shelter, that's what's happening—if you don't stop acting crazy and go wash the damn dishes!" "Job? Shelter?" I repeated, confused. "You heard me. Go do the dishes. Now." "There's been a mistake," I said quietly. "I don't do dishes. I'm not even allowed near the kitchen." Back in the dragon village, I was banned from the kitchen because of my fire. Literal fire. When I got upset or emotional, things burned. I once burned down the bakery by accident. But instead of understanding, they just stared. Then they all started laughing. Like it was the funniest thing in the world. "She's finally lost it," one of them said. "Looks like someone's leaving the house today," the man added with a growl. "Go clean the dishes before I make you." I didn't reply. I turned away not because I was going to do what he said, but because I needed to breathe. I needed to think. Nothing made sense. This house. These people. This world. I looked around the room, hoping for some kind of clue. Then I saw it. A calendar on the wall. The writing on it was strange symbols I didn't recognize but the numbers were clear. 12/12/2022. My heart dropped. No. That can't be right. I blinked again. Looked closer. It was real. I remember the last date I saw before the dragon village fell. It was 12/12/2000. That means… twenty-two years. Twenty-two years had passed. But how? I still looked the same maybe even younger. How did I jump twenty-two years into the future? And why do I feel like no time passed at all? This wasn't possible. My father… he didn't have this kind of power. Not anymore. After he was cast out of the divine realm, most of his powers were taken from him. He could barely teleport between villages, let alone travel through time. Unless… Unless he hid something from me. Or someone else sent me here. I stared at the wall, my hands trembling. Who is my father, really? I needed answers. But first, I needed to understand where I was. Who these people really were. And most importantly how I could survive this. I walked slowly back to the dining room, this time more carefully. I kept my head down. I didn't speak. I just listened. If I was going to find a way out of this, I had to stop acting confused. I had to blend in. No powers. No magic. No help. Just me and my mind. Because something wasn't right. My father would never send me here to be a maid. Would he?FIONA:My cheeks burned with humiliation. I was still kneeling on the cold stone floor, my scattered books lying around me like fallen soldiers. Isabella’s mocking voice echoed in my ears, sharp and cruel. Powerless little legend. The words stuck to me, heavy and suffocating.“Here, let me help.” Desmond’s hand appeared in front of me, and he gently helped me to my feet. Janet and Jack were already gathering my books, their movements quick and angry.“Don’t listen to a word she says, Fiona,” Desmond said, his voice a low growl. “She’s just a bully who gets off on making other people feel small.”“She’s threatened by you,” Janet added, shoving a book back into my hands. Her purple hair seemed to crackle with indignation. “That’s why she’s acting out.”I clutched the book to my chest, shaking my head. “Threatened by me?” I whispered. The idea was absurd. “I don’t have an ounce of power. How could anyone be threatened by me?”Jack slung a friendly arm over my shoulder. “You’re new, you’r
ISABELLA:The noise of the dining hall was a familiar sound, and I was its conductor. From my seat at the center of the Aurora table, I could see everything, control everything. My girls, Clara and Maeve, hung on my every word, their laughter a perfect accompaniment to my morning tea. It was all as it should be: orderly, predictable, and with me at the top.Then, the symphony hit a sour note.The new girl walked in. Fiona. Even her name was plain. She paused in the doorway, looking lost and utterly out of her depth, and a wave of whispers followed her like a foul smell. I watched, a forkful of enchanted berries hovering near my lips, as the pathetic outcasts from the Virelle table waved her over. Of course. The broken toys always flock together.“Can you believe the attention she’s getting?” Maeve hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. “All because of that ridiculous hair and some dusty old book.”“It’s pathetic,” Clara agreed, not bothering to lower her voice. “She’s a powerless hy
Lucius:From my position at the head of the table, I watched her walk into the dining hall. The whispers started instantly, a ripple of gossip spreading through the room. *That’s her. The one who looks like the legend.* I kept my expression neutral, turning my attention back to the prefect I was speaking with, though I didn't hear a word he said.My focus was entirely on her. Fiona. She carried herself with an unconscious grace, a strength in her posture that belied the fear I could sense flickering in her eyes. She looked so much like she did all those years ago, yet different. Older. The fire in her hair was tamed, streaked with a silver I didn't recognize, a mark of the trauma she’d endured.I remembered it all. The biting cold of the ice. The crushing weight of the snow. The faces of my dead guards. I had been sent on a diplomatic mission that turned into an ambush. I was left for dead, my own powers frozen and useless, until two figures appeared from the sky. A magnificent silver
FionaI woke to the soft gray light of dawn filtering through the window. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. The ceiling wasn't the familiar carved stone of my room in the dragon village, and the air didn't carry the crisp, cold scent of snow. Then it all came back to me: Noxmere Academy. The legend in the library. Lucius.I sat up, my bare feet touching the cool wooden floor. Across the room, Elara was already dressed, her brown hair neatly braided. She sat at her desk, writing in a journal with a pen that seemed to flow without ever touching the paper. She glanced up, noticing I was awake.“Good morning,” she said, her voice a quiet murmur. “The dining hall opens in thirty minutes. First classes start an hour after that.”“Thanks,” I said, my voice thick with sleep. “What’s the first class?”“Foundational Arcane Theory. It’s for all first-years,” she replied, not looking up from her journal. “Professor Albright teaches it. He’s… thorough.”I nodded, grabbing the simple black u
"Everything is dangerous for someone with no power,” he said, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. It wasn’t a judgment, just a statement of fact. He turned and started walking again.We continued through the grounds, passing a section of the academy where the buildings were entwined with glowing vines and strange, beautiful flowers bloomed in the moonlight. This had to be Virelle. It felt wilder, more organic than the other sections. He finally stopped in front of a heavy wooden door marked with a carving of a chimera.“This is your room,” he said, his tone returning to one of detached duty. He produced a simple silver key from his pocket and held it out to me. “You have a roommate. Try not to bother her.”I took the key, our fingers brushing for a fraction of a second. A jolt, like static electricity, shot up my arm. His eyes widened slightly, and he pulled his hand back quickly. Did he feel it too?“Wait,” I said, the word escaping before I could stop it. I wanted to ask him. Do
The words in the book stared back at me. My own life. My diary. My story. The realization settled not with a crash, but with a quiet, chilling certainty that spread through my veins like ice. The book stopped because I disappeared. My story had paused, waiting for me to pick up the pen again. I am the Red Fionaaa.My fingers tightened on the small, leather-bound copy. I had to appear calm, to control the storm of emotions raging inside me. If they knew, if they suspected who I really was, what would they do? I was powerless, a legend stripped of her myth.I slowly closed the book and placed it on a nearby table, my movements deliberate. I looked up at the three students watching me, they had expressions of curiosity and anticipation.“So?” Janet asked, breaking the silence. Her purple hair seemed to glow in the library’s dim light. “What do you think? It’s a crazy story, right?”I forced a small, thoughtful smile. “It’s… incredible,” I said, choosing my words with care. “It feels so r