Veil.

The assignment had been written in night-black ink, the darkness so deep it was seared in the back of your mind. And it lingered, even as you took the treacherous journey from home, where you arrived days later at the fortified metal gate of Arachna Academy's foreboding entrance.

Your powers were late-blooming. Even when you were over eighteen, when practically everybody else had manifested already and shipped themselves off to their respective academies; you had sat around at home touching up on your alchemy skills. It was to the point where that fateful evening, when black, wispy tendrils slithered around your fingers, you'd already been robbed of the whimsical surprise of the sudden manifestation. Rather, you'd felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

So I'm not Powerless after all.

No, you were a Veil student. Notoriously mysterious, enigmatic, cunning, dangerous.

Some had their expertise in the production of dark matter and inky-black tears in reality. Others were more equipped for the illusions, the smoke and mirrors, the downright hypnosis and nuances of the fickle mind. Veil even encompassed the dreamwalkers, the nightmare controllers, the abyss of hellish beasts in mind palaces.

And the most powerful Veil mages found equilibrium with all three skills.

Now, you stood in your empty room in the Veil Manor, home to all the members of the Veil Class. Gothic cresting, sneering gargoyles, pillars sweeping into gilded ceilings and chandeliers. You remembered hearing shouted incantations and ominous thumps down the hall. Shadows whisking by, students who'd mastered stealth.

The sun was already dipping below the horizon when you'd arrived, and so you'd hurried to get all your belongings up, no thanks to any of your Housemates. It was pitch black night when you'd gotten all set up. At some specific point in the night, the commotion had all suddenly ceased at once, left only with the slow tick of the synchronized grandfather clocks present in every room. It was eerie, almost lonely, the goosebump-inducing silence.

That was when you realized you'd forgotten your Alchemy bag downstairs.

Fuck. That was not good. Alchemy had so many expensive vials and roots to keep track of, and since Alchemy was your first class the next day, they were more than necessary. You could have sworn you'd carried the heavy leather bag up the spiraling staircase, glasses clinking heavily within. But certainly your memory was just playing tricks on you. Right?

So you took the expedition downstairs. The night remained utterly still, even with the creak of each floorboard yielding under your feet. The statue of a massive, cryptid arachid cast shadows over the primary foyer, where your bag was supposed to be—

Click.

A lighter. Across the wide expanse was a single candle, the measly flame wavering in the bitter chill. And beyond the flame was a pair of crimson, glowing irises, cloaked in shadows.

"Ay, dios mío. A cocky, cocky little newcomer." Miguel's voice was a resounding baritone, punctuated by a condescending tsk, tsk, tsk of simultaneous disappointment and amusement. "Expecting to tiptoe into the Veil Manor without even a hello. I expected better from you."

This was him. This was the selected head of Class Veil, his power only praised all over campus He stepped closer into the light—chiseled features, pointy canines, thick dark hair, a robe gaped open to show the lines of his defined pecs—pride and power in his every step. "Tell me. What did you expect to achieve? To enter Arachna's prestigious Veil Manor without proper… initiation?"

Whoosh. He blew, the precise jet of air from his lips extinguishing the flame. The candle went out. Everything was plunged back into darkness.