7th of Sifdras - 1st Ivora, 2025 BBI

  As the coach drives down the main thoroughfare of the Midnight Court, I cannot help but fidget in my seat, trying to get a better look at all the building and spires; any glimpse of my new home for the next six months. I move from side to side, window to window, in the coach not wanting to miss a thing! Father tells me to pick a side and stay there, complaining about rocking the boat. I apologize absently, doing as he says, but unclasp the shutter to get a better look instead, hanging my head out the window.

  “Seretra!” Mother exclaims, “Close the window! You will catch your death in this northern wind!”

  “I have a coat on.” I protest, still taking in my first views of the Court up close.

  The rune-carved, stone walls of the ancient buildings are dark and covered with frost; but look polished and well-kept. I squint in the midday light, huffing a puff of icy breath, my head still poking out of the window as I search for a specific building; our destination just ahead. It isn’t hard to spot the Great Hall, marked by a tall clock tower in the center of a stories high and seemingly endless corridors long building. I have seen depictions of it before, but I had no idea any building this large could exist! Nothing this grand exists in Tranmere. It’s so surreal, I pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming. A giggle burbles out of me to feel the dull sensation. I am really, truly here.

  I breathe in deep as we reach the entryway of the Great Hall and exit the coach to join other milling scribes and staff in a beautifully grand, if chilly, courtyard. I can taste the mana in the air here and a quick survey of the outside of the Hall reveals all kinds of aether drifting lazily about. The threads are more densely populated here than in the woods outside our country home and that place is always rich with them.

  I would have expected less in the cold of the mountains in northern Mesym compared to the forests outside of Tranmere, which are much warmer being hundreds of miles south of here, but apparently temperature doesn’t seem to be a factor. With such an abundance of mana, and bits of aether floating everywhere, it’s no wonder mages can perform any and all magic here. If my memory of the acceptance papers is correct, the Court’s location is the cause as we are now perfectly centered in the cross hairs of two intersecting leylines of the World Tree.

  I help Father unload my trunk and the few bags I brought. It isn’t long after that one of the Court staff comes around to check me in and give me my temporary lodging assignment. I am momentarily stunned when I take in the sight of staff member helping me. He is tall, but that isn’t saying much at my diminutive height. I have long since come to terms that I will always be the smallest of whatever crowd I’m in. The scribe before me has lustrous, long blonde hair that frames his beautiful, pale face and while his smile is mesmerizing, I am more taken with his pristine, white feathered wings folded behind his back. He wears what looks like a gray blazer with the multicolored emblem of the Midnight Court on the front breast panel, but I can’t help but wonder how he can wear such a garment.

  “Why is it temporary?” I ask him, not recalling this part from my acceptance papers.

  He looks down from his clipboard to focus on me and blinks in surprise. “Oh, well, uh, Seretra,” he stammers to start, but even his voice has a melodious tone, “each Coven has their own dormitories. In a few days, all the new scribes will choose which one to join and they will assign you a new room.” He smiles placidly and I find myself smiling back coyly.

  “Thank you, for the help.” I respond meekly as my things are tethered together by a couple other young men. I watch with interest as they place a small stone in the ropes and I see it shimmer with traces of mana. One of the men, an elf with long brown hair, activates it with a wand in his hand and the whole thing lifts off the ground for the other to easily push the large parcel toward its destination. I quirk my head at the now fully glowing rune on the stone as it passes me by, glancing for a moment at the wand with a similar glow at the tip.

  My attention drifts back to my Father, who hasn’t moved but has a knowing smile on his face. He glances back at the coach driver who is just about done feeding and watering his team of two horses that brought us here. I heave a sigh, releasing a nervous excitement that flutters inside me. It was time for me to take on this journey that I have always dreamed of. I can only hope to succeed in this to make them proud and finally find where in all of Akeroth I belong. I hug my parents farewell tightly, seeing what I hope to be pride welling up in their eyes.

  “Don’t forget to eat well, darling.” Mother whispers to me, a sob in her voice.

  “Are you kidding, Lyz? Seretra might miss a lot of things, but food isn’t one of them.” Father jests with her in a cheerful tone and winks at me to play along.

  “I definitely won’t be skipping meals, mama.”

  “Don’t skip class either! Get up early and do your work, just like at home.”

  “Yes, mama.”

  She lets me go reluctantly and it’s Father’s turn to say his final goodbyes for almost a year. “No matter what happens, I’m proud of you for just getting here.” He pauses to give me a squeeze, “But I know you are more than capable. Just remember the loom, right?” I roll my eyes, nodding reluctantly. “And don’t be too eager. You will get there, love, just take all the steps that you need to.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders when I start to fidget. It sounds too much like one of his lectures now to be a pep talk. I refocus when he points an index finger in the air leaning in slightly. “Do me a favor, though,” he glances back at the gorgeous, winged Adaphaen scribe with the clipboard and Father’s expression is oddly disgruntled, “don’t get involved with boys.”

  My eyes go wide with outrage, “Dad!”

  He continues candidly as if I said nothing, “I know it’s a tall order, but boys your age have a pretty one track mind. You remember when you were about 10 and you asked me what the rabbits were doing in the woods?”

  “Please stop.” I shield my face from view with my hands, but I can feel my ears starting to grow red.

  Father heaves a sigh, a defeated look to go with the gesture he makes to Mother. “I had to try and warn you, anyway.” He gives me a kiss on the forehead, Mother following suit as they both tell me “I love you”, before getting back in the coach that brought us all from Tranmere by way of Kornik. I am left to wave at the retreating coach and once I can no longer see them, I turn around and stare up at my new home.

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  As I enter the Great Hall for the first time, I am struck again by the almost tangible essence of magic. My elated smile slowly returns to my face as I wonder idly what awaits me in this new chapter of my life all the way to the temporary dormitory, which will be my home until I choose a Coven; a place to belong.

  8th of Sifdras - 2nd Emder

  I wake the next morning in the large, open bedchamber in one of the temporary dormitories. There are six beds in total in this room and it still doesn’t feel quite real to me that I am here. It feels more like visiting the Broken Tree Inn with my parents, except, instead of my parents, I am with strangers. I suppose they aren’t really strangers anymore after yesterday though. As I look toward the other stirring figures in the low light of another chilly morning in northern Mesym, I start to believe that this isn’t just a pleasant holiday. I have never been much of a morning person, but this, being surrounded by fellow scribes—my peers— makes me smile all the same.

  Yesterday afternoon, I was able to meet my other temporary roommates in this rather large room on the 5th floor of the Great Hall. The 5th floor! Even the Broken Tree Inn is only 3 floors and it’s the second tallest building in Tranmere. I found all of my things and similar trunks and travel cases set up at each of the beds when I arrived, but I was the first. I was admiring the splendid view of a courtyard and shockingly, green gardens past it from one of the four windows in the apartment when my first roommate arrived.

  They are a dwarf with fluffy, red-orange hair and a strong, stocky build. They nod to me in greeting, voice thick with an accent I can’t place but I make out that her name is Sigrid Stonefellow. I introduce myself, being mindful to not be too eager as Father had suggested. We make small talk, though, and I ask where she is from, noting her accent. She shrugs stating that my accent is just as strange, but tells me she is from the mountains of Erstone. My eyes bulge, I almost fear they will pop right out!

  Erstone is only a place I have ever seen on the large hanging map in Mister Dreadflower’s study and is on the other continent to the east. Not only is it on the Eastern continent, but on the very far side, all the way to the east of the map at that! In my stunned stupor, she joins me at the window and comments that at least these mountains make her feel a bit more at home.

  I look out past the buildings of the Court and the strange green garden among the frost toward the horizon and see the rocky peaks Sigrid spoke of. As she starts to describe the differences between her mountains back home and these, it occurs to me that there are so many different places and peoples in the world that I never considered or even knew about to consider. When every other place was just a name on a map, it was hard for me to really think about who lived there or how their lives were different than mine. But now that I am here, talking to someone from half a world away, it occurs to me that all those other places are real and very different from anything I know. The prospect is just as exhilarating as it is terrifying.

  As we chat, two more of our roommates join us and I am even more excited to learn about these strangers. While Sylphra Galestrike and Ilythia are both from Hyhill, they are not from the same area. In fact, we all come to find out that they are from nearly opposite ends of the region known as Hyhill, which is just to the west of Erstone and they are about as different from each other as their origins.

  Sylphra, or Syffy as she likes to be called, is only half human and part air elemental, a race known as Elementai. I have never heard of such a thing even existing before and, of course, it was out of my mouth before I could stop to think about how that might make her feel. Syffy just laughed though, saying she gets that all the time, adding that her specific type of people are actually pretty rare. She has a very long, thin frame and her white-gold hair is so light that it wisps around her like a cloud, unimpeded by any force. Even her voice is a little bit raspy while telling us she is from the northern part of Hyhill.

  Ilythia, on the other hand, is a fawn type fae creature, but she swears she is at least part something else. What kind of “something else”? She wouldn’t say. It is hard to tell if she wouldn’t tell us because she wanted to seem mysterious or if she just didn’t know. Lytha, as she goes by, has large, beautiful doe eyes and soft, tan and white fur tufts peppering her tanned skin. Her adorable white spotted brown ears peak through a head of human-like golden hair and has the same white splotches throughout! She tells us in a slightly nasal tone that she is from southern Hyhill, south of the High Forests.

  At that moment, a rather intimidating Infernai with deep purple skin, devilish, black horns, a whip-like tail, and hooves for feet enters the room! She smiles wickedly showing dangerous fanged teeth, throwing back her long, midnight black locks as she approaches us. Her voice is deeper than I expected but her tone is surprisingly jovial when she addresses the group of us. “Yo, am I late to the party?”

  “No, not at all!” Lytha exclaims.

  “Come and join us.” Sigrid adds in her slurring accent of odd inflections.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” The tall woman— she must be a woman with that curvy frame, joins us at the long table in the center of the room. “So what are we talking about?”

  “Just where we are from. Introductions.” I answer meekly.

  “Oh! Sounds fun! I’m Vespera, then, but no one calls me that. Except for my mother. Vesa is fine.”

  I smile and join in with the rest of the group, giving Vesa our names. She pauses at mine and adopts a pondering expression. “Seretra…” She muses slowly, as if tasting my name and I am suddenly alarmed by her scrutiny.

  “Yes…?” I respond with the same slowness.

  She shakes her head, her face reflecting as if she does not particularly enjoy the flavor. “No,” she starts slowly again, “it’s too long and sounds like you’re a grandma.”

  Syffy giggles lightly and I feel my cheeks turning pink. “I think it sounds fine.” She coos, trying to comfort me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, it sounds fine,” Vesa retorts, “but it doesn’t match this adorable little creature.” She gestures to all of me, waving a violet colored hand with sharp black nails up and down at me.

  Yes, it’s true that I am quite short for my age and I still have a girlish mien in my face. And my chest. And, well, all the rest of my body. I stare at Vesa’s chest as she crosses her arms under her ample, round cleavage and attempt to keep a disheartened expression from showing.

  A snap of her fingers puts an end to my brooding as she makes an announcement, “Serea.”

  “Huh?” the confusion plain on my face now.

  “I will call you Serea. It’s much cuter and suits you better.”

  I blink in confusion as the rest of the girls give their own approvals to my new name. A nickname. I have been given a nickname, I realize, and a goofy smile spreads over my small face.

  We all talk the afternoon away, asking each other questions about one another or the group as a whole. Vesa tells us that she is from Horora, a port city in southern Casian and I am excited to actually know exactly where that is. Not only is it the closest of all the places I have heard of today, but it is also the most notorious. Most people from Tranmere, sailors primarily, call it a "hive of thieves and ner-do-wells". Despite that, though, it is the most popular trading hub for merchants getting their goods from the west side of the Western Continent to the south or east side of the continent; a halfway point.

  Unsurprisingly, we learn that Vesa is the oldest of us all as she is turning twenty this year. Sigrid is next in line, turning twenty a few months later. Both the Hyhill girls are eighteen, turning nineteen this year. So it isn’t surprising that I am the smallest, for a human at least, and also the youngest as I won’t be turning 18 for a few months yet.

  As we are chatting and carrying on, the last of our roommates joins us. She is Ciradyl Dawnspire, a High Elf from Ambervale in Mayfalls, another region on the Eastern Continent, just northwest of Hyhill. Like Lytha, she is thin, but not to the same, wiry extent. She is tall and has a more athletic build where as Lytha looks a bit frail. Her long chestnut hair is half in braids around her head like a crown, the rest of it framing her comely face of a peachy hue. She is rather shy especially around Sigrid, oddly. When she comes to join us, the awkward feeling between them is quite noticeable, and I am not the only one to take note of it. But as I found out earlier today, I am unfamiliar with the customs of other peoples of Akeroth.