Keeper of the Coat

Part 2

Orientation at Thornwood Academy continued, and I was deeply engrossed in the intricate details of the academy's curriculum. Though it had only been a few hours since my arrival on this enchanting campus, my mind was already abuzz with the promise of what lay ahead.

The brochures contained blurbs of different classes: Magic Ethics, Astral Voyages, and Potioncraft 101. Not even a school of arcane arts was safe from the machinations of 21st-century marketing, but they did sound intriguing. Other pages held stories from alumni, hinting at the greatness achievable within these hallowed grounds. A persistent curiosity tugged at the edges of my consciousness, beckoning me to uncover my unique path amidst the labyrinth of choices.

As I perused the tales of Thornwood's illustrious past and the achievements of its alumni, I couldn't help but reflect on my journey. My previous life, far from the grandeur of Thornwood Academy, had shaped me in ways I was only beginning to understand. The simplicity of my upbringing instilled in me a sense of resilience and a deep appreciation for the opportunities that now lay before me.

The mere sight of Thornwood's lecture halls, with their tall, arched windows and towering bookshelves, filled me with awe. Although I had not yet attended any lectures or seminars, their presence resonated with the anticipation of what would come. I imagined the voices of professors imparting their wisdom, and I could already feel myself hanging on to every word, eager to expand my understanding of the arcane.

My notebook, which I carried everywhere, was filled with questions and potential schedules. It was tangible evidence of my readiness to embrace the world of magic that Thornwood promised to unveil. Each line I drew, each symbol I recorded, was a small step closer to unraveling the mysteries that awaited me in this extraordinary place.

Eventually, the paper guided me to the central building. Its grand entrance loomed before me, adorned with ancient, softly glowing runes that shimmered with an ethereal light. It was as though the very stones held secrets, and the runes, like whispers of forgotten spells, beckoned me closer.

As I stepped over the threshold, the environment pulsed with enchantment, and I was instantly enveloped in an atmosphere transcending time and space. It was the library, an opulent sanctuary of knowledge where towering bookshelves stretched toward the heavens. I hurt my neck, craning up at the sheer magnitude of the tomes that lined these shelves, their ancient spines bearing the weight of countless ages.

I ventured deeper into the core of this bibliophilic maze. The air became musty, dry, and like old cotton. It was as though the very scent of knowledge lingered in every corner, waiting to be inhaled by eager seekers like myself.

The genuine enchantment, however, lay in the subtle hint of something else—a faint, elusive presence that whispered in the air. It was a residue, a trace left behind by spells long cast and mysteries unraveled within these sacred walls. This library was not just a repository of books; it was a living testament to the magic coursing through Thornwood Academy's veins.

I paused for a moment, letting the ambiance wash over me. The soft glow of the ancient runes, the scent of old pages, and the elusive residue of magic combined to create an otherworldly experience. It was a prelude to the awaited mysteries, a promise that Thornwood Academy harbored secrets worth unveiling. With a steady breath, I resumed my journey, eager to unearth the hidden gems scattered among the serpentine aisles of this exceptional library.