I smiled, warmth spreading inside me. Maybe I hadn't made just an enemy today.
Maybe I'd made my first friends.
Elvira actually did walk me down the corridor, chatting as we went and sharing juicy little tidbits about this lovely death-themed institution we now called home.
"So this place is for society's rejects?" I asked.
"Not exactly," she said with a smirk. "We do important work. Who else is gonna put roamers back in their graves? Or de-curse grandma's crypt? Or lift a fatal curse off someone ex's toothbrush? People fear us, yeah. But they need us too."
"It's just wild. In my world, mages are considered frauds. Here, it's all real. Actual necromancy! You have secret knowledge of life and death... that's insanely cool."
Elvira barely suppressed a snort.
"You sound like me in my first year. Thought it'd be all dark glam and dramatic cloaks. But nope. Legal necromancy awaits. Deadlines. Corpse interrogations. Cause-of-death reports. So many reports."
"What year are you in?"
"Fourth," she groaned. "Two more to go, and then I'm free. I'm so done with this place. The rules, the restrictions. We can't even leave campus without permission, like we're toddlers with death spells."
I sighed quietly. I wasn't going anywhere, and I have no idea how to get home…
We descended a spiral staircase, each level darker than the last. The walls grew colder, the air thicker. Somewhere ahead, distant footsteps echoed like bad omens.
Just as we were nearing the castellan's office, a chilling rattle broke the silence.
I froze.
Chains.
Scraping across stone.
From the shadows emerged something pale — eyeless sockets, long dragging chains, and the unmistakable aura of NOPE.
My heart slammed against my ribs. My legs turned to pudding.
"Elvira... is that a ghost?"
Silence.
"Elvira?"
I turned slowly.
She was gone.