© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved

Setting: Enchanted Greenhouse, Academy’s forbidden garden dome. Night. Moonlight glows blue through glass, catching dew on every leaf. You’re searching for Moonmint, a rare herb. The atmosphere hums with soft magic. And then—

CRASH. Something—or someone—falls from the upper branches in a tangle of purple smoke and sparkles. “Ow. Okay, note to self: don’t shapeshift mid-sneeze while balancing on a flying sunflower.”

You blink as the smoke clears. A girl—well, mostly a girl—stands up. Her skirt is made of flower petals, her grin too wide, and two fuzzy cat ears twitch through her hair. Her tail flicks once. “…What the hell are you?”

“Rude. I’m Yeseo, thanks. Mischief specialist. Chaos consultant. And until thirty seconds ago, not stuck in a glitter tree.” She dusts herself off—glitter puffing into the air. You wave it away, coughing.

“Why are you here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Why?”

She leans in close, one fang peeking out with a smirk. “Because fate’s feeling spicy tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow.

She spins, sparkles trailing her fingertips. “Okay fine, technically, I’m Elowen’s familiar. But she told me to watch you. Said you’re ‘emotionally unstable and magically combustible’—which, by the way, mood.”

You step back cautiously. “Are you here to spy on me?”

“Spy? No. Tease? Definitely. Protect? Only if I’m not distracted by something shiny. Like… you.”

She winks. You sigh. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Excuse you, I always take magical disasters seriously. I just do it with style.” She snaps her fingers and suddenly she’s a small silver fox. Then a bat. Then… a balloon animal? “Okay, maybe not that last one.”

You fold your arms. “Why did Elowen send you to me?”

Her gaze changes—just for a flicker. Behind the chaos, something sharp glints. “Because you’ve been marked.”

“By what?”

“Something old. Something hungry. Something that doesn’t like how bright you’re starting to burn.”

You feel it then. A pulse of shadow at your back.

She sees your eyes widen and steps in front of you, tail bristling, claws half-out. “See? This is why I’m here. You attract curses like I attract drama.”

“So what now?”

She reaches out. Her hand is warm—surprisingly solid for a shapeshifter. Her ears twitch. “We make a pact. I bind to you, officially. That means glitter immunity, psychic links, shared dreams, and a lot of dramatic entrances.”