"Well," Mo said as soon as they left the main hall, "I'd call that a roaring success. Because nothing screams 'welcome to Evil Academy' more than a public showdown with my old arch-nemesis."

  Nyx's form shimmered, growing a few inches taller as their expression became thoughtful. "I've heard about you, you know. You were kinda legendary back at Crowhurst High. Students told all kinds of weird stories about you and your escape to the human world."

  Suddenly, an icy chill settled in Mo's core, spreading through her veins. She wondered if this was why Nyx had chosen to ally with her, the reason behind her bold confrontation with Valerius. Doubts began to gnaw at her mind—did they seek to attach themselves to her reputation as a 'legend,' or was there some hidden agenda, a way to gain something from their association?

  "You know what?" Mo said. "Thanks for jumping in with Valerius. I hate sparring words with that creep. But, uh, I'm guessing you've got your own schedule to figure out, so I'll just… see you around. Great meeting you, Nyx."

  "Huh?" mumbled Nyx, their voice tinged with confusion as they shrunk slightly. Not just because their shoulders slumped and posture diminished but also because their stature lost a few centimeters. "What just happened?" Mo glanced back one last time at Nyx's bewildered expression before hastily turning a corner.

  She had barely managed to slip away from Nyx when the pressure in her chest tightened like a vice. Mo needed space. She needed air. But Umbra Academy wasn't precisely the comforting type of place. The stone halls seemed to lean in closer with every step, wild cackling sounding from the dark corridors and shadows thickening along the walls as if the school itself enjoyed watching her unravel.

  Mo stumbled into the first door she found—an empty classroom—and slammed it shut behind her. The air inside was cold and thick with dust and magic, the smell of old parchment and stale incense suffocating her before she could take a breath.

  The pressure didn't stop. If anything, it worsened. Mo's heart hammered against her ribs, her hands shook violently. No. No. Not here. Not now.

  Her body screamed for release, for an escape from the invisible hands clawing at her lungs. Mo pressed herself against the door, sinking to the ground with her knees drawn tight to her chest. Breathe. Just breathe.

  Mo's eyes darted around the room, desperate for something... Anything to ground her. A flicker of movement caught her attention: quills, floating mid-air, scribbled endlessly across parchment that shimmered with an unnatural glow. Nearby, a chalkboard shifted and writhed as if alive, runes twisting and curling into patterns that glimmered before vanishing. A shelf cluttered with oddities loomed in the corner, and her gaze locked onto a jar of pickled eyes. They blinked lazily, each movement deliberate, tracking her with disconcerting focus. Not the most pleasant sight.

  Five.

  Her breath hitched. No, stay here. Don't spiral.

  She reached out blindly, fingers grasping for anything real. The rough fabric of her messenger bag met her hand first, worn and familiar beneath her grip. She brought it here from Earth. Her palm landed on a nearby desk's cold, obsidian surface, its pulse of dark energy thrumming beneath her fingertips. The weight of her familial ring offered a different sensation—cool, smooth, and sharp enough to remind her that she was still here, still in control. Her other hand found the frayed edge of her T-shirt—another simple connection to Earth's normalcy stitched into this chaos.

  You're okay. You're okay. Just keep going.

  Sound rushed back, fragmented but grounding. The groan of ancient bookshelves weighed heavy in the air, thick with the burden of forgotten spells and unsaid words. A soft and unsettling whisper curled through the room in an unfamiliar language, wrapping around her like smoke. The steady scrape of quills against parchment continued, repetitive and constant. Not stopping because of a random person entering the room. Anchoring her to something mundane amidst the madness.

  Three.

  Mo's heartbeat slowed—barely, but enough.

  The air carried with it the sharp tang of burnt incense and sulfur, Umbra's signature scent of oppressive tradition and dark ambition. Beneath it, the softer, grounding aroma of old leather and dust. Something that hit very close to home. Something reminiscent of the things from her bookstore sanctuary filled her lungs.

  And then, the taste. Sharp and metallic. Anxiety sitting bitter on her tongue. It was a taste she knew all too well, but familiarity offered a strange comfort. She was still here. Still breathing.

  The crushing weight on her chest began to ease, not vanishing but pulling back far enough for her to wipe her eyes. You survived this long. You made the right decision on Earth. You can survive this place too. And you'll make Blackthorn Keep better. After you gain the full control.

  A weak, bitter laugh escaped when she leaned back against the cold wall. "Great first day, Mo. Really crushing it."

  But for the first time since stepping into Umbra Academy, she wasn't entirely drowning. The fear had loosened its grip, leaving behind a hollow determination. Exhausted, but not broken.

  From beyond the heavy wooden door came a muffled voice. "Morgana? Mo? I don't have my orientation letter with me!"

  Footsteps. Moving away from her.

  "I'm sorry Mo! I shouldn't have said that!"

  Mo slowly opened the door and peeked out into the corridor. Nyx slowly walked away, trying to figure out how Mo disappeared so fast.

  She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and let her eyes roam over the rows of vacant desks and scattered papers in the silent classroom. With a final glance at the chalkboard filled with notes, she turned and walked into the corridor.

  "Hey! I'm here!"

  Nyx jumped, startled. They looked differently now. The shift was almost imperceptible, but there was something there. Something that was hard to pinpoint.

  "I needed… a moment," Mo said, gesturing toward the empty classroom.

  Nyx stepped toward Mo and extended their hand.

  "I'm sorry," they said softly, stepping closer with a hesitant shrug. "I got way too excited and pushed too hard."

  "That's fine. I forgot you didn't have that orientation letter anymore. You dealt with it quite spectacularly, I should say."

  Mo looked around her, trying to get her bearings and figure out where to go next.

  "So, where do we go now?" she asked. "Do you have any idea."

  "We need to figure out our schedules," Nyx said, uncurling their fingers to count the tasks. "Next, there are workbooks. And we should figure out where our dorm is. So, how do we do this? Head for the Academic Office first or secure our dorm before the next magical catastrophe?"

  Mo unfurled her scroll and found a map halfway to the end. She traced her finger over the magical parchment, sections of the scroll lighting up and fading out following her movement.

  "We just left the entrance hall," she said, showing the parchment to Nyx. "That's here. We need to get to the Registrar's office. And they should fix all the issues for us. That's here," she pointed to the first location and then the second. The shortest route began to glow on the map.

  "Nice! That's almost like Google Maps!" Mo exclaimed.

  "What maps?" asked Nyx.

  "I thought you studied with Valerius on Earth?"

  "Ah, no…" said Nyx. "The school you left was on Earth. I went to the high school with Valerius. Completely different place."

  With a theatrical flair, they pressed their hand firmly against their chest, eyes widening as if to emphasize the gravity of their words. "I?" they exclaimed, voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief. "On Earth? Such a daunting adventure would demand more courage than I could ever muster!"

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Oh, stop it!" exclaimed Mo. "It's not that adventurous there."

  "Not if you listen to some of the stories they tell about you," Nyx said and looked at Mo. They obviously saw something shift in Mo's gaze as they extended their hands in front of them and exclaimed. "Not that I believe them! But I would definitely have to tell you all of them. So that… you know… you'd be prepared."

  "Right… right," muttered Mo. "Forewarned, forearmed."

  She looked at Nyx, taking the measure of the shapeshifting person.

  "Tell me about yourself," she said. "I'll be frank with you. A dark academy not the best place to get friendly with the first random person you meet. Even if you seem to click with them."

  "So, we clicked, huh?" Nyx grinned. "But you are right. Let me introduce myself. As you had already heard, I'm Nyxir Obscuris, Titanborn Demon. But please call me Nyx."

  Nyx swept into a graceful bow, their cape unfurling like a dark, dramatic wave behind them. The fabric whispered against the floor as it fluttered and settled back into place, adding a touch of theatrical flair to the gesture.

  "Obscuris… Titanborn…" muttered Mo. "I think I remember something from old council meetings my father made me to endure. I never thought your family had anyone as spectacular as you are."

  For a brief moment, Nyx's shoulders slumped, their posture collapsing like a punctured hot air balloon losing buoyancy. A sigh escaped their lips as they took a step back from Mo, needing to create a little more distance between them.

  "Oh… Now I said something wrong," Mo tried to close the distance between them, but Nyx stepped back again. "I'm sorry. There's some family history there, right? I have plenty of it if you didn't guess that already."

  "Well… At least you put it very gracefully," Nyx said, not looking at Mo. "My father would use the words like 'abomination,' 'fluxspawn,' or 'shift-wretch.' And those are the softest he'd choose."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," said Mo. "I didn't really speak to my parents in the past few years. Not that they tried a lot to reach out to me."

  "Hug?" asked Nyx.

  Now, it was Mo's turn to step back.

  "Maybe a bit later," she said. "I'm not sure I'm ready to close contacts yet."

  "Am I wrong that a few minutes ago you said you'd kiss me?"

  "That was said in the heat of the moment!" exclaimed Mo, faking outrage. "I was sure it was obvious!"

  "Uh-huh…" Nyx said, a smile returning to their face. "Let's table it for now. So, Registrar's office?"

  She glanced at the map, then back at Nyx's expectant face. With a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her very soul, she squared her shoulders. "Right. I suppose that makes me your unofficial tour guide through this labyrinth of lunacy."

  "You're a gem, Mo," Nyx grinned, their teeth momentarily sharp and gleaming. "I promise to be the most perfectly unperfect student you've ever had the misfortune to shepherd."

  As they set off down the corridor, weaving between the groups of students and teachers, Mo couldn't help but think, "What have I gotten myself into?" But beneath the exasperation, there was a tiny spark of excitement. For the first time since arriving at Umbra Academy, she felt a glimmer of hope.

  ***

  The rest of their walk to the Registrar's office flowed smoothly, without any surprises. As they navigated the bustling corridors, they passed clusters of students animatedly discussing their aspirations to become the most formidable and enigmatic dark magic beings across all realms. These earnest declarations, however, drew amused smirks and eye-rolls from older students, who leaned casually against the walls, whispering sarcastic remarks to one another. Meanwhile, the teachers, engrossed in their own conversations or with eyes glued to their notes, seemed to turn a blind eye to the youthful bravado and the teasing that followed.

  Just outside the office, Mo and Nyx found a large, intricately designed chart. Its heavy, dark frame and ornate lettering gave it a distinctly Gothic feel. The list displayed the names of all the first-year students in an elegant, old-fashioned script. Next to each name, neatly printed in ink, was some additional information about the students. But also, what was more important, the classes they were enrolled in.

  Mo sighed, looking at the word beside her name: 'succubus.'

  Nyx noticed what grabbed Mo's attention and sighed as well. "I don't think you'll be able to avoid that fame here," they said. "Not like it was any secret. Your family is well known in all realms, you know."

  "Arrrgh… Let's see what fresh hell awaits us," Mo muttered, her finger tracing down the list of classes. "Diabolical Ethics 101, Minion Management, Advanced Cackling... oh joy."

  Nyx leaned closer, their breath tickling Mo's ear. "Any chance we're stuck together at least partially in this academic nightmare?"

  Mo's eyes darted between her schedule and Nyx's eager face. "Actually, it looks like we might be cellmates in most of these classes. Apparently, the universe has a twisted sense of humor."

  "Or impeccable taste," Nyx quipped, grinning.

  Mo rolled her eyes but couldn't entirely suppress a smirk. "Don't get too excited. We still have to survive 'Dramatic Entrances and Exits: A Practical Guide.'"

  "Oh, I excel at dramatic," Nyx said, striking a pose that was equal parts ridiculous and oddly graceful.

  Mo snorted, her ginger hair falling into her eyes as she shook her head. "I don't doubt it. Just promise me you won't set anything else on fire. It was enough that you destroyed your orientation letter seconds after it manifested."

  As they continued examining the schedule, Mo's mind wandered. "This is absurd," she thought. "I should be arranging books by genre, not learning how to monologue with more flare. What would my regulars at the bookshop think if they could see me now?"

  Nyx's smoky form shifted, coalescing into a caricature of a stuffy professor. "Now class," they intoned in a comically pompous voice, "today we'll learn the proper way to cackle while twirling your mustache. Remember, it's all in the wrist!"

  Mo couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Oh god, can you imagine? 'Villainous Facial Hair 301: Advanced Mustache Maintenance.'"

  Nyx's form changed once again. Now, they looked like a middle-aged lady with a long handlebar mustache.

  Mo snorted unexpectedly, the sound sharp and uncontrollable. "Oh, stop it!"

  "Don't give them ideas," Nyx said, curling their newly appeared mustache around the finger. "Though I'd pay good money to see you try to grow a handlebar mustache, Mo. Ginger, it would be quite striking!"

  Mo ran a hand through her disheveled hair, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I think I'll stick to my nerdy charm, thanks. Besides, how exactly does one teach villainy? 'Step one: acquire lair. Step two: laugh maniacally. Step three: profit?'"

  Nyx's eyes glowed brighter, their voice taking on multiple harmonics as they warmed to the topic. "It's all so... formulaic. As if true chaos could ever be contained in a syllabus."

  "Exactly!" Mo exclaimed, her earlier nervousness giving way to passionate indignation. "Villainy isn't something you learn from a textbook. It's... it's..."

  "An art form?" Nyx supplied, a sharp-toothed grin spreading across their face.

  Mo nodded, surprised to find herself genuinely connecting with the shapeshifter. "Yes! It's creativity, it's innovation. Not... whatever this is," she said, gesturing at the schedule with disdain. "Not that I ever wanted to study it…"

  She looked at Nyx, who suddenly shifted back to their more habitual shape and was watching Mo intently.

  "Right, let's get you a new schedule before they decide villainy requires a dress code and throw me away from here," Mo sighed.

  ***

  As they neared the counter, Mo's eyes were drawn to Nyx, whose image seemed to shimmer and shift like a mirage. Nyx's fingers danced restlessly, pressing each fingertip against the opposing thumb in a rhythmic, anxious pattern.

  "Are you…?" Mo whispered. "Are you alright?"

  "What?" asked Nyx, suddenly taken out of their reverie.

  "You're doing well?"

  "Ah… Yes… Don't worry," Nyx said. "Everything's going to be fine."

  Mo shrugged and stepped forward, looking directly at the clerk.

  "New schedule for Nyxir Obscuris, please," Mo announced to the bored-looking demon behind the desk. "We had… an accident."

  The clerk's eyes narrowed as they looked at Nyx, then back to their parchment. "Nyxir Obscuris… Let me see…" The demon opened a large archaic file cabinet and browsed the documents inside. "M… N… O… Ah, yes, here it is."

  The demon looked at Nyx and then went back to the file. Then he snapped his fingers, and a new scroll manifested in the air before Nyx.

  "Thank you," Nyx said. "We also wanted to check what's the status with our dorms."

  Mo caught Nyx's eye, hesitating for a breath. The words tumbled out before she could stop them: "We were hoping to share a dorm." So much for staying cautious, she thought as her heart kicked in her chest.

  Why was she doing this, anyway? Her every instinct yelled slow down, reminding her how 'allies' in villain schools could be double-edged. In the end, that was one of the reasons she ran away from her middle school. Loyalty always seemed to come with strings attached.

  But Nyx had stepped up for her, revealing flashes of sincerity behind that shapeshifting bravado. The strangest part was how that sincerity felt… genuine, even if it was still tinted with sarcasm and flair.

  Mo's fingers clenched around her messenger bag. She was the Dark Lady. Even if only provisionally. And trust was something she was supposed to ration, not give away. But for now, she decided to ignore the voice in her head telling her to bolt.

  The clerk squinted at Mo, his eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher a puzzle. Slowly, his gaze drifted to Nyx, studying her face with a hint of curiosity. After a moment, he shifted his eyes back to Mo as if comparing the two. With a slight nod, he quickly picked up Nyx's file, flipping through the pages with deliberate care.

  "It is stated in your file that you are male. And…" he looked at Mo once again, waiting patiently.

  "Morgana Nightshade," she prompted.

  "M… N…" the clerk browsed through the files again. "I'm sorry, but in you file it's clearly stated that you are female. You are… a succubus, right? Not an incubus?"

  "That's correct."

  "Sorry, but it's absolutely out of question. Quite impossible."

  free subscription to my Patreon account. You'll get access to for just 1 British Pound. The same tier will allow you to read three advance chapters of my other story, but I'd appreciate it if you decide to subscribe to a higher tier :)

  join my Discord server :)