Sylvania || jjk

1

“I would greatly appreciate it if we could all maintain silence,” came a crisp voice from the front of the hall.

The speaker was an elderly woman with silver-white hair pulled back into a bun so tight it looked like it could snap. She was adjusting her glasses, wiping them with a delicate cloth as she sat on a high-backed chair encrusted with sparkling crystals. The chair screamed royalty; she screamed detention.

Her name was officially “Professor Harley.” But around campus?

The moody bitch.

Totally inappropriate for newcomers to say out loud—but give it a week. Everyone eventually understood.

Eun leaned in and nudged my arm. “I don’t like her. Jesus.”

“Honestly?” I muttered back, eyes still on Harley. “Same.”

“I thought a magic academy would have... you know, chill teachers. Like wand-surfing bros or something.”

I snorted and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Yeah, no. I knew this place wasn’t gonna be Hogwarts meets Coachella. I’m just here to finish my levitation credits and bounce.”

Eun rolled her eyes. “For the ballerina academy, right?”

I gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yep. Apparently, if you wanna dance in the air, you first need a license to float.”

“Ugh. They should just teach levitation there instead of making you survive such subjects.”

Yeah. That’s how I ended up at Sylvania.

This wasn’t some deep magical calling or quest for power. I just needed to pass the first-semester levitation course to get into the top ballerina school. No levitation, no aerial pirouettes.

And I wanted those pirouettes.

A booming voice echoed through the hall, cutting through the low buzz of murmurs and whispers.

“A warm welcome to all our mid-term transfers to the Academy of Sylvania!”

Heads turned toward the stage, where an old man—definitely pushing 70—stood with a microphone in hand. His long, white beard practically brushed his belt. He had that jolly-sinister vibe, like Santa Claus had gone part-time wizard.

“I am your Principal. You may call me... Phantom Columbus,” he announced with theatrical flair.

He paused for dramatic effect, then gave a small smile. “I hope you kids find your footing here. It’s... an unusual place.”

With that, he stepped off the mic and walked over to Harley, who didn’t even glance up as he sat beside her. The two of them began whispering like they were plotting world domination—or maybe least some extra homework?

“Hey, I’ve read so much about that man,” Eun whispered, eyes fixed on the stage, curiosity lighting up her face.

“Of course you have,” came a voice from behind us—calm, confident, and a little amused. “He’s the man who invented Sikora.”

We turned to see a tall redhead standing just behind us. She had striking features, like someone who didn’t need to try to be noticed—she just was. Confident, graceful, probably older than us, and very aware of it.

Eun’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god.”

The girl let out a soft laugh. “Classic fresher reaction.”

She didn’t sound mean—more like she remembered what it felt like to be new here. There was warmth in her eyes as she looked at Eun.

I tilted my head. “What’s Sikora?”