The Story

The Shimmering Veil of Faerie Magic

The only class Faye found remotely tolerable was Faerie Runes—though it was no less difficult. The runes themselves were beautiful, ancient symbols etched with glowing magic, used to bind faerie spells to the mortal world. The professor, Lady Selwyn, was strict but less intimidating than the others. She never showed open cruelty, but the intensity of her gaze made it clear that failure wasn't an option.

Faye had never heard of Faerie Runes before coming to Heartseeker. The others treated the runes like second nature, especially those with faerie blood. Kieran, of course, was flawless. He never seemed to break a sweat, his hand moving gracefully across the page as he etched perfect runes, each one glowing faintly with magic.

Faye's own hand shook as she attempted the symbols. She dragged her quill across the page, but the runes didn't glow for her. They never did.

Across the room, Kieran's eyes flicked up from his parchment, watching her struggle. Faye felt the heat of his stare before she saw it. She dared a glance at him—his emerald eyes locked onto her, cold and calculating, as if weighing something inside her that even she didn't understand.

Kieran's voice cut through the room, low but clearly aimed at her. "The runes don't lie, mortal. Magic knows its own, and it's clear that you're an outsider."

Faye's stomach twisted. Kieran had barely spoken to her since that encounter in the hallway, but when he did, it was always sharp, dismissive, and cutting. Yet there was something in his gaze—an edge of curiosity behind the cruelty.

"Kieran," Lady Selwyn warned, her tone neutral, but Faye could sense the unspoken respect she had for him. He was a prince after all, royalty among faeries, his power acknowledged even by the professors.

The class resumed, but Faye couldn't concentrate. She tried to ignore Kieran, but the weight of his presence was always there. Something about the way he watched her, the disdain in his words—it stirred a defiance deep inside her, a desire to prove him wrong, to prove all of them wrong. Even if she didn't have magic like the others, she refused to be nothing.