1. Aria

1

ARIA

I sprint down the empty hallway, my backpack a frantic metronome against my spine, each impact a reminder of the precious seconds slipping away. The squeak and slap of my sneakers on the linoleum echo off the institutional walls, a staccato percussion in the sepulchral silence of the abandoned corridor. My heart thunders in my chest, a desperate war drum driving me forward.

I can't be late. Not for this exam. Not after everything.

My mind races faster than my feet, flashing through a slideshow of sacrifices. Endless nights bathed in the sickly glow of my desk lamp, eyes burning as I pore over dense texts. The disappointed frown of my academic advisor, her words a death knell to my ambitions. "Perhaps this program isn't the best fit for someone of your... background."

The ever-growing mountain of student loan debt, a paper avalanche threatening to bury my future… This test is more than scantron bubbles and essay questions. It's my lifeline, my one desperate chance to prove I belong in these hallowed halls of learning. To prove that the whispers are wrong, that I'm not just another scholarship charity case destined to wash out.

To prove I'm not a failure.

I careen around the corner, sneakers squealing in protest, and skid to a stop in front of the exam room. Bent over, hands on my knees, I gulp air into burning lungs. As my pulse begins to slow, a creeping sense of wrongness seeps into my awareness.

The door.

It's... off.

Where there should be a utilitarian slab of painted metal, there stands an ornate doorway that belongs in a Gothic cathedral, not a modern university. Aged oak, dark with the patina of centuries, stretches at least ten feet high. Intricate carvings writhe across its surface of twisted vines, leering faces, and creatures that skitter away from my direct gaze.

A chill runs down my spine, raising gooseflesh in its wake. My hand, seemingly of its own volition, reaches for the handle, a piece of wrought brass cunningly worked into the shape of a serpent. My fingers hover mere inches away, trembling slightly. The metal seems to pulse with a life of its own, scales gleaming with an oily iridescence that defies the flat fluorescent lighting.

Don't be ridiculous, I chide myself. It's just nerves and midterm sleep deprivation. An ordinary door, nothing more.

I draw a deep breath, the harsh antiseptic scent of floor cleaner filling my lungs. Steeling myself, I grasp the handle.

Ice and fire shoot up my arm. The world lurches sideways, colors bleeding and swirling like a kaleidoscope dunked in acid. Reality stretches, fragments, reassembles. For an eternal heartbeat, I'm everywhere and nowhere, spread thin across a cosmic tapestry of impossible geometries and gibbering voids.

Then, with a sickening snap, I'm whole again. Stumbling forward, I fight the urge to retch as the universe settles around me.

I blink rapidly, trying to clear the afterimages seared into my vision. Gradually, my surroundings swim into focus, and my breath catches in my throat.

The sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the university is gone and icy air slaps my face. Disoriented, I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. This isn't the exam room. This isn't anywhere I recognize.

Towering trees loom around me, their bare branches clawing at a star-strewn sky. Snow crunches beneath my feet – actual snow, in what should be the middle of spring semester. My breath puffs out in panicked clouds as I spin around, searching for the door I just came through. But there's nothing behind me except more trees, their trunks black as pitch in the gloom.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice small and trembling. Only the whisper of wind through skeletal branches answers me.

Fear claws at my throat as the reality of my situation sinks in. I'm alone in some impossible forest, with no idea how I got here or how to get back. The thin jacket I grabbed for my dash to the exam room does little against the biting cold. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering violently.

A twig snaps in the distance. I freeze, straining my ears.

Was that... a growl?

Panic surges through me. I pick a direction at random and start moving, my steps quickening into a jog, then a flat-out run. Branches whip at my face and arms as I crash through the underbrush. Shadows seem to move in my peripheral vision, but when I turn to look, there's nothing there.

I don't know how long I run, but I keep going until my lungs burn and my legs ache. Terror keeps me moving. I know I'm not alone out here, and I know I shouldn't be here. Just when I think I can't go on, the trees begin to thin. I burst out of the forest into a moonlit clearing and skid to a halt, gasping for air.

Before me, rising from the snowy landscape like something out of a nightmare, looms a massive structure. It's hard to call it a building – it's more like a small city unto itself. Spires and towers of black stone stretch towards the sky, their edges sharp enough to slice the very stars. Bridges of what looks like crystallized shadow arc between the various sections. At the heart of it all stands a central keep, its windows glowing with an eerie, violet light.

Despite its menacing appearance, I feel an inexplicable pull towards the place. It's the only sign of civilization I've seen in this frozen wilderness. More than that, there's something... familiar about it. As if I've seen it before in a half-remembered dream.

A howl echoes through the night, much closer than before, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. Whatever's out there in the dark, it's getting nearer.

As I draw closer, I begin to make out more details. Gargoyles perch on every corner, their stone faces twisted in expressions of agony or ecstasy. The walls themselves seem to ripple occasionally as if the very structure is alive and breathing.

The thing behind me growls, a low, rumbling sound that sends ice through my veins. It's gaining on me. I can hear the crunch of its footsteps, feel its hot breath on the back of my neck.

With a sob of terror, I break into a stumbling run. The academy's main gates loom before me, wrought iron bars twisted into shapes that hurt my eyes to look at directly. They're closed.

"Help!" I scream, pounding my fists against the unyielding metal. "Please, somebody help me!"

The creature behind me roars. I spin around, pressing my back against the gate, and finally see my pursuer. It's a wolf, but like no wolf I've ever seen. Easily the size of a horse, with fur as white as the snow around us. But its eyes... Its eyes glow with an inner fire, intelligent and hungry.

As it stalks towards me, muscles rippling beneath its pristine coat, I close my eyes. This is it. This is how I die, in some impossible place, devoured by a monster from a fairy tale.

Suddenly, there's a groaning of metal behind me. I fall backwards as the gates swing open. Strong hands grab me, pulling me inside. The wolf's snarl of fury is cut off as the gates slam shut once more.

I look up at my savior and my breath catches in my throat. The being before me is beautiful in an alien, terrifying way. Skin like polished alabaster, hair the color of a moonless night, eyes that seem to hold galaxies within their depths.

It – he? – smiles down at me, revealing teeth just a little too sharp to be human.

"Welcome to Ravencrest, little hexeblood," he says, his voice like silk over steel. "You're late."

As blackness creeps in at the edges of my vision, my last thought before unconsciousness claims me is that I've stumbled into a world far stranger and more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.