“You, try not to be a nuisance to Aunt Corrine, okay bud?

The girl with ebony skin nodded, small hands gripping onto the laced hem lining the edges of her
dress. She was looking down at her feet, curly black locks partially covering her clear brown eyes.

At eleven years old, Febe understood that she would not be able to see her dad in a long time, and
she also knew it was due to the fact that her father was currently struggling with his business. As a
way of preventing him from seeing her with watery eyes, she buried her head into his shoulder, at
the same time pulling him down for a hug.

By now, the dad himself could be seen fighting back tears. He looked up at his wife, a lanky lady who
appeared to be no more than thirty years old. Her cheeks glistened under the radiating rays of the
sun, clearly wet from crying. They gave each other a knowing look, eyes full of uncertainty, but also
encouragement.

“Mum and dad will always be there with you, okay? Besides, we can always talk on the phone. Or
rather, you can, you know how bad your dad is at technology.” His attempt at a joke only made his
eyes water more. “Now, now, enough crying. Off we go.”

The three of them walked down the driveway together, hugging one last time before going their
separate ways; the dad to his truck, Febe and her mother to the taxi waiting at the entrance. As her
mother loaded the bags into the trunk, Febe lay her head against the taxi window, looking at her
father’s car as it got smaller and smaller, until it eventually disappeared. Febe’s mother jumped into
the taxi, slamming the door shut. “Alright,” she said while trying to catch her breath. “Off we go.”

Six years later, under the bright blue roof that has now become so familiar to Febe, she is at her
usual spot in front of the living room window, her head lying against the glass. This is what she does
every evening while waiting for Aunt Corrine to return home from work. It is currently December,
and the chilling weather has forced Febe to stay home for most of the holidays, accompanied by her
pet cat, Parsley. She likes looking outside during the winter evenings because that is when the sun
mellows to an orange, and sometimes even purple, glow, providing a satisfying balance between the
warmth of the rays and the icy cold snow directly beneath it. It was the balance she had always
longed for; something that reminded her of what life used to be like with her parents. Now, she was
just stuck in a world of monotony that came in the form of the small city she lived in named Ketran.

In a few months, Febe would turn seventeen.

Seventeen is a special number for Febe. It marks her final year of school. It also marks the beginning
of a whole new experience for Febe. This year, she will finally begin training as a witch in preparation
of her induction into the secret society of magic next year. To help with that, she will finally begin
attending the Academy of Magic this year. Going to the Academy has been a lifelong dream for
Febe. To her, it was not only a place where she could learn how to utilize her powers, but it also acts
as a sort of escape from the greyness of life in Ketran. It was a symbol, and a promise, of excitement
and adventure. This desire only grew stronger over the years as she heard more and more stories
about it from Aunt Corrine. While doing any kind of research on the Academy would be virtually
impossible due to the fact that it has been kept a secret from the outside world for centuries, from
what Febe has heard, the Academy is a gigantic old building surrounded by a beautiful lush garden
that contained flowers that one would never find in the non-magical world. Prominent wizards and
witches regularly walk the halls either as permanent staff members or guest lecturers. Unlike
conventional schools, students would have personalized lessons specially catered to their skills,
preferences and commitments. According to Aunt Corrine, this is in consideration of the ‘part-time
students’, which is what Febe will be enrolled as, who would have to juggle both the Academy and
also regular high school.

Back in the real world, Febe notices a sudden increase in the amount of grey-suited people on the
other side of the window, each with their unique way of indicating that they were in a rush to get
somewhere. That means…

“Febe, I’m home!”

In walks a tiny woman in a brown winter coat, covered head to toe in tiny specks of white that fell to
the floor with every little movement she made. Beneath her coat, she was wearing a white button-
down shirt and grey pants, the basic uniform worn of the typical working person in the city.

“Hey Cory,” Febe said enthusiastically. “Anything fo-“

Before she could finish her sentence, Aunt Corrine nonchalantly drops an envelope on the side-table
right next to Febe, concluding the action by flashing Febe a playful smile.

“Not even gonna ask me about my day first?” Corrine feigned a sad expression.

“Why bother?” Febe replied cheekily, laughing at the dismayed look plastered on Corrine’s face.

“You’re lucky you’re my favourite niece.”

“Your only niece.”

“Has anyone told you how clever you are?” Corrine asked, evidently proud. “Must’ve learnt it from
your aunt.”

Febe let out a sarcastic laugh, earning herself a deadly side-eye from Corrine as she walked up the
stairs.

Febe eyed the white envelope on the table. On it, was her name: Febe Linkerglass, written in the
most beautiful cursive handwriting you would have ever seen. There was no stamp, just a bold red
letter ‘A’ at the very corner of the envelope. In a sudden burst of ecstasy, Febe picked the envelope
up and half-ran, half-skipped to her room.

As she was just entering her room, she tripped on a soft, furry object, falling onto the carpet
sidewise in a loud thump.

“Parsley!” she said sternly, rubbing her arm. “What did I tell you about lying down right in front of
the door?”

“Sorry, Fefe.”

“Oh don’t you ‘Fefe’ me, young man.” Febe knew Parsley only calls her ‘Fefe’ whenever he knows
he’s in trouble. “If this happens again, I’m taking away your tuna rights.”

“What is a cat without his tuna?” Parsley looked devastated.

“If that’s what it takes to make you listen.”

“Fine.”
“Anyways,” Febe said in a more chirpy tone. “I’ve got the letter!”

“What letter?” Parsley asked unenthusiastically, lying down on the carpet which was covered in his
own black fur.

Febe ignored the cat’s indifference. “The acceptance letter to the Academy!”

“Well, aren’t you going to read it?” Parsley got up and moved slowly towards Febe, who was still
lying on the carpet with an awe-struck look on her face. “What if they sent you this letter to let you
know that you weren’t accepted, and that you will never, ever, ever, ever, ever be allowed anywhere
near the premises?”

Febe’s initial carefree expression contorted into one of stress. She never considered that as a
possibility.

“Geez, I was just joking. Now hurry up and open it already.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Febe tore open the envelope with her eyes glued tightly together.
Raising one eye open, she slid the letter out, inch by inch.

“Dear Febe Linkerglass, we are pleased to welcome you to the Academy of Magic…” Febe allowed
herself to fall backwards onto the carpet in sweet relief.

“Good god, Parsley.” Febe gave a sigh of relief. “Well, now that that’s over with, I can go back to
sulking over the start of school tomorrow.”

“You do that. I’ll just be here…sulking over everything.”

The next morning, Febe was awoken by the sound of Parsley clawing at the door. She looked at the
digital clock beside her bed. 7:25 am. Annoyed, she attempted to block the noise by burying her
head
under the covers, but Parsley proved his determination by clawing at it even louder. Eventually, Febe
got the message and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed.

“Rise and shine, princess.”

“Ugh.”

The thought of having to go to school after months of doing nothing left a sour taste in Febe’s
mouth. It was her senior year, and while the thought of going back was bad enough, the feeling of
eventually having to leave behind all the precious memories she made over the years was somehow
even worse.

After a few minutes of sitting on the edge of her bed, staring into nothingness, Febe decided she was
awake enough to start her day. She managed to eat breakfast, brush her teeth, take a shower, get
dressed and organize her books for the day, all within the span of 30 minutes.

“Bye Cory, I’m off to school!” Febe shouted up the stairs, at the same time grabbing her bag that was
hanging at the very end of the railing.

“Alright, Febe. Stay alive out there.” Corrine replied in a muffled voice.

Febe pops in her earbuds, blasting a song she had been obsessively listening to for the past week. It
was just the right tune to get her into the mood for her first class of the day, Philosophy. In a way,
choosing a subject outside of what she would call the ‘Golden Trio’ (Mathematics, Science, and
English) was an impulsive decision that was completely out of the norm for her, but she figured,
what better way to prepare for life as an adult than to learn about life itself? In theory, at least. She
took out a folded piece of paper, which turns out to be her school timetable, from one of the
compartments in her bag pack. “So…” she started mumbling out loud to herself. “Philosophy…Math,
English…break…Chem, Bio, Physics…” She grunted internally. “All three science subjects back to
back? Lord have mercy.”

Back when Febe was still unaware that she was a witch, she always wanted to be a scientist of sorts.
She had a natural interest in science, or more specifically in human and animal physiology. This
interest ultimately grew and manifested into a strong desire to join the field of health care, either as
veterinarian or a doctor. Most of the medical universities she was interested in applying to preferred
candidates that have taken all three natural sciences subjects: Physics, Chemistry, and Biology. While
she genuinely does enjoy science, this limited her subject options significantly, as she would only be
allowed to take six subjects at school, meaning she would not be able to be experimental in taking
other subjects that interested her. She sometimes wonders what would happen if she had traded in
Mathematics for economics, or English for history. Perhaps she would have decided to become a
businesswoman instead, running her own company. Or perhaps she would have wanted to become
a historian.

No, Febe thought to herself, getting into medical school has been her most consistent and longest-
lasting dream. It was time to grow up and commit to her decisions. As she walked, her steps
synchronized beautifully with each musical beat. For a moment, she swore pink hydrangeas began
raining from the sky, acting almost as a sort of welcome to her upcoming life as a full-grown adult
who would be capable of making her own mistakes and decisions.

After around 10 minutes of walking and pondering, Febe realizes that she is suddenly standing
smack in the middle of a turbulent sea of converse-wearing, glazed eyes teenagers. The air suddenly
felt dense, with an overwhelming scent of musky cologne mixed with a toxic concoction of super-
slick hair gel and pre-teen deodorant. Yup, Febe thought to herself, this is more like it. Many of her
fellow school-goers congregated in individual groups around the concrete staircase in front of her,
each step containing at least two to three students relaxing in very interesting poses. As she did four
years ago when she first started attending classes at Frasier Creek Middle High School, Febe let out a
big, long sigh as soon as she laid eyes on the staircase. It only contained around 20 steps or so, but
because it was so steep, being able to climb to the top without huffing and puffing would earn you
Olympic-level respect. Upon completing your torturous journey to the top, you will be welcomed by
a decently-sized old square building looming over you. Not exactly the best sight for sore eyes. The
building stands tall and mighty, at an impressive five storey height. However, while it takes up a lot
of what Febe likes to call “sky space”, it does not take up much room in terms of land, leaving more
than enough space within the compound to accommodate large fields and courts, and its own mini
Roman-esque auditorium. If you look closely at the walls, you can see small areas of its intended
colour, beige, but since being overpowered by a few decades worth of moss and remnants of spray
paint from back in the era of the graffiti craze, the walls now adopt an unsettling greyish-brown hue.

As you enter the building, you will often find the main corridor bustling with activity. Today, in
celebration of being back in school, a few students are seen hectically trying to set up booths for
what looks to be a recruitment drive for later that afternoon. Febe catches eye contact with one of
the busy students, a brown-haired boy in glasses wearing an FCS jersey and unloading boxes of flyers
and posters. The boy waves at Febe with brows still furrowed and eyes narrowed in the same
grimacing expression from before he saw her, clearly stressed about the idea of having to get
everything set up in less than 2 minutes before class starts. Febe chuckles at his expression,
mouthing a short ‘good luck’ and raising her right fist as a gesture of encouragement.

The boy’s name is Derek Lee, and he comes from a small middle-class family, originating from China.
When Febe attended school for the first time ever in Ketran six years ago, she had a hard time
understanding the concept of fixed class times, fixed lunch times, even fixed lab partners. As a result,
many people would act nice to her to her face, but they would make fun of her cluelessness behind
her back. Sometimes, they would even go so far as to deliberately feed her false information just so
she would embarrass herself, giving them something to talk and laugh about among themselves
later on. Derek was not one of these people. He talked to everyone with genuine interest and
compassion, and everyone loved his unique sense of self. Derek’s family moved here from China as
he was just entering his first year of elementary school. He could already speak fluently in English
due to the fact that his parents were businesspeople who taught him multiple languages in order to
give him a heads up if he ever chose to enter the business realm. Yet, despite sharing a common
language, Derek had a hard time mixing with the others due to other factors, mainly differences in
culture, customs and tradition. Over time, however, as he began to pick up on the strange habits of
the Ketranites, he started to learn how to adapt to this new culture, and at the same time, embrace
his own. Perhaps because of his ability to relate to Febe’s initial naivety and alienation, Derek
subconsciously felt the need to protect and teach her how to make the best out of who she is.
Needless to say, the two have been inseparable ever since.

According to her timetable, Febe’s first class takes place on the fourth floor in room 4-B. Most of the
time, Febe gets to her classes via the staircases, but today, she decides to take the elevator to save
time and sweat. As the elevator door was about to close, a girl with messy wet hair clumsily bumps
against the two side of the door, pushing her way in. “Linkerglass!” the girl ecstatically called out. “I
almost missed you.” The two girls hugged. As the two girls pull apart, the girl’s student ID tag gets
hooked onto Febe’s woollen jumper. After fumbling around for awhile, the girl unceremoniously rips
the tag off the jumper. The ID, with a clump of knotted fibres now attached to its upper right corner,
reveals the girl’s name: Georgie Laing, Febe’s second best friend.

She met Georgie 4 years ago, when the two were still a couple of freshmen, at the school’s
orientation week. The two actually had a bit of a conflict relating to one of the games they played
during a particular orientation event. When it was all over, Georgie came over to apologize to Febe,
and while they were talking, they realized that they had very different viewpoints about the world,
and very different personalities. Febe was more of a quiet optimist who believed that change only
comes with action, whereas Georgie was more outspoken, and believed that words hold power.
Despite their differences, they both enjoyed each other’s company, and since then, they have
become closer as time goes by.

“Well, you would’ve been able to see me in class later on anyways, Ms. Drama Queen.” Febe
laughed while Georgie held a hand over her mouth in a dramatic way, feigning offense.

“My, my, you sure have a little bit of a ‘tude this morning, young lady.” Georgie remarked, giving a
mocking grin. “Was it because you hadn’t seen me for – what, 3 months?”

The elevator arrives on the fourth floor, right as the warning bell rings.

“You wish, Laing. Anyway, we’re about to be seeing each other in detention if we don’t scram out of
here.”
“Why the hurry, goody-goody?” Georgie said, taking her own sweet time out of the elevator as she
combed through her tangled red hair with her fingers.

“Mrs Ryans.” Febe replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

The two girls shuddered. The girls knew that during this time, Mrs Ryans would be very generous at
giving late slips out to students, not so much because she is strict, but because she has been looking
for after-school helpers to aid her in setting up for the big Arts and Languages Soirée coming up in 3
another 3 weeks.

“Right…” Georgie said, thinking about the many hours they would be spending with Mrs Ryans, and
the long conversations they would be forced to engage in regarding various philosophical topics.
“We better get moving, Link.”

With that, the two girls powerwalked swiftly towards the room at the very of the hallway, both arms
swinging up and down like broken mechanical soldiers, as they strategically worked their way
around (and through) the groups of people scattered throughout the area who were also rushing to
their respective classes.

The girls manage to get to 4-B with around 10 seconds to spare. Mrs Ryans was already there,
writing something on the whiteboard as the two silently took their seats at the only two available
seats left at the very front of the class. Febe whispered to Georgie, “You know, one of the main
reasons I took the lift today was so I wouldn’t arrive here all sweaty.” Lifting her arms slightly, Febe
gave Georgie a sad look, and she reciprocated with her own look of defeat.

The bell finally rings, and Mrs Ryans turns around to look at the class. She gives a slightly
disappointed expression upon realizing that there are no empty seats, meaning there would be no
after-school helpers, from this class, at least. “Good morning, class. My name is Mrs Ryans, as some
of you will already know. Welcome to the exciting world of Philosophy. Today, we begin with a bit of
an introduction to philosophy. Let’s start with a little taste of the pre-Socratic era..”

The day went by pretty uneventfully. Despite it being the first day of school, Febe already has four
written assignments to complete by the end of the next week, and one group presentation for
Philosophy happening next month. As Febe packs her things up at the end of Physics, the last class of
the day, she feels a sudden nudge from the back accompanied by a loud “Boo!”.

She turns around to see her two best friends, both looking away with their hands behind their backs.

“Huh, weird, I just saw this random guy push you from the back. He ran that way.” Derek gestures
towards the window.

“Maybe he was into you.” Georgie suggests, playfully raising her eyebrows while curling her lips
upwards into a smirk.

“Aw shucks,” Febe responds, playing along. “Guess we weren’t meant to be.”

“There there.” Georgie says in a gentle tone, patting Febe’s head repeatedly while purposely
messing up her hair. Febe giggles, swatting Georgie’s hands away.

“It’s okay, Link. Why don’t we head on over to Burger Hut to, um, mourn?” Derek smiles in a
deliberately awkward manner. He slides a colourful piece of paper across Febe’s desk, tapping at the
title which states in bold red, ‘JUKE’S FAMILY KARAOKE SPECIAL EVENT! OPEN KARAOKE WITH FREE
BUFFET!’ .
“So… up for it?”

“Ye-…” Febe trails off, suddenly remembering that she has to rush home to get ready for her first
day at the Academy. “Sorry guys, maybe another time. Maybe this weekend?”

“But…but, it’s only valid today.” Georgie says, clearly disappointed.

“Yeah…and we haven’t hung out in a while, just the three of us.” Derek remarks sadly.

“I’m sorry, guys. You know how much I love karaoke and spending time with you, but I’m pretty
swamped during the weekdays.” Febe shoves everything into her bag haphazardly, not wanting to
be late on her first day.

“Oh man. So what’s this new thing you’re busy with?” Georgie asks out of curiosity. Febe freezes for
a moment, trying to think of an excuse. Her friends just look at her in anticipation, adding to the
pressure. Normally, Febe tells her friends everything, like how she told Georgie about her
sleepwalking habits, or how she told Derek about her occasionally peeing in the shower. The biggest
(and probably the only) thing Febe has ever kept her friends in the dark about is her identity as a
witch, albeit not an official one as of yet. There’s a good reason for it.

While there are no adverse effects for simply revealing your identity as a witch or wizard to a “non-
magical folk” per se, generations upon generations of wizards and witches have warned against this
practice. Interestingly, they always cite the same event in history, one that had greatly endangered
the wellbeing and existence of the wizarding community as a whole. It was an incident involving a
20-year-old wizard named Mikael Chaelster.

Chaelster was a second year university student, studying to become a teacher. He fell in love with a
girl he met through a mutual friend. About five months into the relationship, he thought that he
would impress the girl by using his magical powers to shower the girl with rose petals. However,
contrary to his expectations, the girl became fearful, and ran to tell everybody about Chaelster.
Within the hour, a mob of people gathered outside Chaelster’s house, demanding his execution. In a
panic, Chaelster unintentionally released a high intensity of magic into the crowd, resulting in many
mild to severe injuries within the mob. Word about a dangerous wizard living in the town spread like
wild fire, and soon, the higher authorities were informed, and the identities of many other wizards
and witches were revealed, encouraging the townspeople to hunt them down and kill them. At that
point, Chaelster, with the help of his friends and family, cast a powerful spell over the town, meant
to make them forget about the events that have occurred over the week. In the process, Chaelster’s
energy drained at a dangerously rapid pace, leading to his death. This is because of the number one
rule of magic, which is that magic is only meant to aid others. It is not meant to directly affect
another individual’s outcome. Going against this rule requires a significant amount of energy, which
is why wizards and witches that practice dark magic often require a sacrifice in order to save
themselves.

“Febe?” The question snaps Febe back into reality.

“Oh…um, yeah, I’ve got a new job. Need to raise money for college.”