The Things We Burn

People liked to say the 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫 ended fifteen years ago.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.

Wars did not end when treaties were signed or
kingdoms rebuilt. They ended years later-in empty houses, in family names no one spoke anymore, in children left behind to inherit the things nobody survived long enough to explain.

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 knew this better than most.

At eighteen, she was one of the strongest witches to enter 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲 in generations.

Students 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 about her.

Professors 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 her.

First-years lowered their eyes when she passed.
Others claimed she practiced forbidden magic in abandoned classrooms after midnight. One rumor insisted she once shattered an entire dueling arena and walked away untouched.

Madeline never corrected any of them.

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 was easier than questions.

She wore black uniforms like mourning clothes and carried herself with the kind of sharp, quiet confidence people were born from-or forced into. Her spells came too quickly. Too naturally. Magic bent strangely in her hands. Fire burned darker. Shadows lingered too long.

Protective wards became impossible to break.

No one knew why.

Not even her.

Officially, her parents had died in an accident before she was old enough to remember them.

Officially, Headmaster Aldric Everwood had simply taken pity on an orphan and helped place her somewhere safe until she was old enough for the academy.

𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, Madeline was only a witch.
The problem with official stories was that they usually existed to protect something.

𝐎𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Because years ago, before she was given the name 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝-

before she became top of her class-

before people looked at her and saw power-

There had been anothe