The sun hung low behind the academy's towers, casting long shadows over the cobbled path that led to the front gates. A lone figure approached—cloak clean, stride confident, and a travel satchel slung over one shoulder.
Esme slowed at the entrance, taking in the towering gates and ancient crest of the academy etched into the stone. Her eyes scanned the surroundings—every crack, every guard's movement, every lingering mana trace left in the air. She noted it all.
When the guard at the gate finally stepped forward, she smiled.
"State your name and purpose," the guard said, his tone polite but firm.
"Esme," she replied smoothly. "I'm here to apply for a teaching position. I was told the academy is reviewing candidates this season."
The guard gave her a brief lookover, then nodded. "Right. We've been expecting a few new applicants. Go on ahead. They'll send someone to meet you at the front hall."
"Much appreciated," Esme said with a nod, stepping past the gates.
But her smile faded the moment her back was turned. She wasn't here to teach.
Not really.
As she passed through the academy's front courtyard, her eyes flicked toward the main spire—the very heart of the academy.
If the principal's missing, and someone else is pretending to be him… I want to know who—and why.
Esme waited in the front hall, her hands clasped behind her back as her eyes casually scanned the stained glass windows and softly glowing enchantments lining the walls. The magic here was old. Worn but strong. The kind of magic built over generations.
A set of footsteps echoed down the stone hallway. She turned as a man approached—a sharp figure in dark robes, hair neatly combed, though his eyes looked like they hadn't seen sleep in days.
"Miss Esme?" he asked, tone clipped but courteous.
She offered a small nod. "That's me."
"I'm Professor Elden," he said, gesturing for her to walk with him. "I'll be overseeing your initial evaluation."
She followed, adjusting the strap of her satchel. "I understand the academy has high standards."
"Higher than usual," he muttered, rubbing his brow as they turned a corner. A few other robed figures stood waiting in a side room—senior faculty, judging by the way they stood with quiet authority.
No names. No smiles.
They studied her with the calm, practiced scrutiny of people who'd seen too much to be easily impressed.
Elden gestured toward them without introducing anyone. "They'll observe. It's standard."
"Of course," Esme said smoothly, stepping into the room like she belonged there.
But as the door closed behind her, her thoughts sharpened.
They're nervous. Watching each other. Hiding things.
She could feel it in the air—not tension, but caution. Something had happened here recently. And whatever it was, the faculty was still trying to pretend everything was normal.
Which meant she was in the right place.
Exactly where she needed to be.
After Esme's arrival and her interaction with the senior faculty, the scene could shift to show more of her internal thoughts and her careful observation of the academy's atmosphere, all while maintaining her cover. Here's how the story might continue:
She felt it—the tension in the air, the way the magic in the room seemed to pulse with unease. It was faint but unmistakable. The aura of secrecy, woven into every conversation, every glance exchanged between the professors.
But Esme knew how to keep her own secrets, just as well as she knew how to expose the ones hidden by others.
One professor, sitting at the farthest end of the room, shifted in his chair, his fingers tapping a rhythm against his leg. He wasn't looking at her directly but rather out the window, his gaze distant and unfocused. She wondered what he was thinking. More importantly, she wondered if he knew about the recent events. If he knew about the principal's disappearance.
"Miss Esme," a voice interrupted her thoughts.
Esme turned toward Elden, who had been observing her quietly. "Are you prepared to give us a brief demonstration of your teaching style?" he asked, though it was more of a formality than a true question.
"Of course," Esme said, her voice calm and steady, masking the sharper thoughts running through her mind. She set her satchel on a nearby table, her fingers brushing against the smooth leather. As she spoke, she prepared herself for the task at hand. "In my experience, a mage's education isn't just about theory or practical application in isolation. It's about helping them form a bond with their magic, understanding it as part of themselves."
She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the faculty. They were waiting, silent but attentive. The tension in the room thickened.
She raised her hand, and the mana in the room shifted subtly, like a breeze on the edge of her senses. Esme let it flow through her, gentle at first, just a trickle of power. Then she let it build. Slowly. Methodically.
The air around her began to hum, the faintest shimmer surrounding her fingers as she manipulated the energy. It was a simple spell, one used to test a mage's command over their surroundings—a quiet, flowing wave of light that danced just above her fingertips.
Elden raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still watchful. One of the other professors leaned forward slightly, clearly impressed but unwilling to show it fully.
Esme finished the spell, letting the light dissipate into nothingness.
"Is this how you typically teach?" Elden asked, his tone neutral but his eyes sharpening.
Esme nodded. "In my teaching, I emphasize understanding the feel of the mana—the way it connects to you. If a mage doesn't have that foundation, no amount of theory or technique will help them control their power."
Elden's lips tightened, as though considering her words. "Hmm. Interesting."
"Have you considered that perhaps there are forces beyond simple magic at work here?" one of the professors spoke, her voice carrying a faint edge.
Esme's expression didn't change, but inside she felt the slightest surge of recognition. That was the question she had been waiting for.
"The academy has seen some... unusual occurrences recently," the professor continued. "A surge of magic, a disappearance of the principal, and some whispers about things not being as they seem. I assume you're aware of these rumors, Miss Esme?"
Esme didn't falter. "I've heard some of the talk. And while rumors can be misleading, I believe there's truth hidden in them. I came here for more than just teaching. I came to understand the academy's situation—what's truly happening behind the scenes."
Elden's gaze hardened, the slightest flicker of surprise in his eyes before it was masked by his usual calm demeanor. The other professors shifted uncomfortably.
"I see," Elden said softly. "We have... our hands full at the moment. The situation is more complicated than you might realize."
Esme nodded, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. "I understand. But that's why I'm here. To help. In whatever way I can."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. She knew that whatever had happened here, the faculty was trying to maintain control. They didn't want an outsider—especially one with the skills and rank she was hiding—to dig too deep. But that was exactly what she was going to do. She had to.
After a moment, Elden spoke again, his voice soft but firm. "We'll have to think about your application further. But you're free to begin your duties once we confirm the details. We'll be in touch."
Esme nodded. "Thank you, Professor Elden."
As she turned to leave the room, her thoughts were already racing. The academy had secrets. And she was going to uncover them, piece by piece.