I managed to knock most of the kids down in a matter of minutes. Soon, I was the only one still standing on the platform. Everyone just sat there, their mouths agape, jaws nearly hitting the floor. Except Lucian, who rose to his feet, clapping ecstatically.

No one else joined in. 

I vanished from the platform and found myself standing among the swarm of first-years, the childrens’ expressions ranging from glowers to death glares. 

“Wow. Okay. Well, um…” Banecliff let out an awkward cough. “In all my years as headmaster, I can confidently say we’ve ever had a Division Ceremony quite as… unique as that before.”

One of the children behind him flipped me off. 

I gallantly didn’t shove a child off a platform. 

Banecliff slipped a pen from his sleeve. “I suppose I’ll just make a note to, uh…” he scribbled something on his palm, “make sure we adjust the rules for next year.”

I stared at him with wide, desperate eyes. “But do I still get the hat?”

Banecliff let out a long sigh. “Yes—you still get the hat.”

“Yipee!”

Professor Phiphyra let the cloth drop, revealing a neon yellow novelty baseball cap with the words ‘Sorting Ceremony Champion’ written in big block letters.

My face broke into a grin wide enough to split my face in two, my heart soaring as she placed the baseball cap on my head. This was the best day of my entire life!

That’s when I felt something tugging at my thoughts, a feather-light touch brushing against my consciousness. 

I turned to see Banecliff staring at me intently. Psychomancers’ eyes turn green when they use a significant amount of power, which is why most (like Professor Leovi) prefer to wear sunglasses. And even though the strongest among them could hide it well, I could see the faintest ring of green around Banecliff’s irises. He was trying to look into my mind.

Luckily, Banecliff himself had taught Owen Thorn a secret in the fourth Owen Thorn book: if you flood your brain with false memories, a psychomancer can't distinguish them from real ones. So, I did just that, creating a fake memory of my time at Oakwell—a memory of my life as a student that tooooooootally belonged to this world.

The probing at my brain vanished in an instant. 

Banecliff offered me a pleasant smile, as if he hadn’t just been digging around in my brain. “I wasn’t informed we had a transfer student joining us this year.” 

“Must have gotten lost in all the paperwork getting shuffled around after the wyvern attack,” I said, willing my voice to stay steady. “Not to worry, though. I’m just happy to be here—really, really happy.” That, at least, was the truth. “Now, uh… I should probably get back to my seat—”

Banecliff’s arm shot out, blocking my path. 

“Wait.” That pleasant smile remained plastered to his face, but I could feel his eyes digging into me. “You still haven’t been sorted.”

My stomach plummeted. 

“Oh,” I said with a laugh that nearly broke as I waved a hand. “There’s really no need for that. I, uh… I was a super powerful Psychomancer back at Oakweld. And the tournament is already over. So no need to make any extra hullabaloo trying to sort lil ol’ me.”

I tried to step forward again, but Banecliff’s arm didn’t move, that pleasant smile still in place. “Nonsense. The sorting is a school tradition. Everyone deserves the chance to take part.” His powder blue eyes seemed to glint. “We’ll just bring in The Seeing pool.”

The professors guided the first years out of the way as Banecliff flicked his wand. The dragon’s wings that formed the platform pulled apart, the stone grinding and creaking, revealing the pool hidden beneath them. It was sculpted from crystal, shimmering under the lights of the Great Hall, and casting iridescent reflections across the walls. The water was so still it could have been a mirror, reflecting the ceiling and the curious faces of the first years gathered around.

My pulse surged. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

The Seeing Pool was used for students who were either eliminated before they could be sorted or for those whose magical class never manifested during the tournament. When submerged, it would react to the magic within a young magician and turn the color of the appropriate class of magic.

On any other occasion, I would have been over the moon to see the Sorting Pool in real life. But unfortunately, the moment I stepped into it, I would be exposed as a fraud in front of every student at Draconia Academy. So yeah, that definitely put a bit of a damper on things. 

The excited whispers of the students echoed through the hall, their eyes fixed on me as I crept inch by reluctant inch toward the pool.

“By all means, go slower,” Professor Drokav huffed. “I might as well start choosing my nursing home, since I’ll be ready to move in by the time you finally get into this stinking pool.”

I was glad an angry flying magpie would bite him in the ass later in this book. 

I came to a halt in front of the pool, my own terrified face reflected back at me. What would they do when they realized I had no magic? Kick me out? Erase my memory? My heart hammered against my ribcage like it might burst through. 

“Go on now,” Banecliff said, his smile widening as he gestured to the pool. “I’m sure everyone is eager to find out where such an interesting new student belongs.”

My entire body was shaking as I stepped into the pool. I tried to slow my breathing, hoping to mask how close I was to a full-blown anxiety attack. My hands trembled, my palms slick with sweat. Everyone was watching as I sank into the water, the murmurs of the crowd a distant hum compared to the roar of blood in my ears.

The water’s touch was almost weightless, making it feel as though I was floating in the air for a moment. Then the cold set in, seeping through my clothes and chilling my skin. The water lapped against me as I sat there, my pulse racing while I gathered the courage to actually look at the color.

Swallowing hard, I glanced down. 

The water was still perfectly clear. 

It hadn’t reacted to any magic. 

I felt like I was going to faint, the eyes of everyone in the room digging into me. What the hell was I going to do? Tears burned the corners of my eyes, and I had no idea if they were from frustration, fear, or pure heartbreak that everything I’d ever dreamed of was just within reach and I was still going to lose it.

Banecliff let out a light cough beside me. “You must be entirely submerged for the pool to work. That includes your head.”

I gasped. “Oh yeah!”

Taking a deep breath that made my cheeks puff out like a chipmunk, I sank into the water until I was completely submerged. My hair floated around my head, bubbles drifting from my nose. As my pockets soaked through, I became aware of something jabbing into my right leg.

My eyes went wide, an idea striking. 

I dug into my pocket, fumbling beneath the water as I wrestled out my ‘I Love Owen’ pen. I took a split second to mourn the loss of such an incredible collector's item. Then I snapped it, the green ink from the cartridge spilling out into the water like a slow-motion explosion.

My head burst from the water with a gasp, the pool turning bright green around me. The color intensified, shimmering as it curled outward. I squinted down at the water. Weird. I didn’t remember the pen’s ink having sparkles. 

Banecliff’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually composed face as he offered me a hand. “It seems you are a Psychomancer indeed.”

My heart thundered with a wild mix of relief and exhilaration. The crowd erupted in polite applause, the noise washing over me in waves as Banecliff pulled me from the pool. Even though I was soaking wet and shivering, a triumphant grin spread across my face.

It was at that moment that Lucian’s hand shot into the air. “Headmaster?”

I barely managed to restrain myself from facepalming. I’d just made it out of my last mess.  Please tell me that asshate wasn’t about to get me into another. 

Banecliff looked equally confused. “What is it, Mister Darkona?”

Lucian cleared his throat, dragging it out for a full three seconds longer than necessary, like he was about to announce he’d just become the next King of England. “I happen to have space available in my dorm because my former roommate and good friend, Trip, is no longer with us. Therefore, I am kindly and valiantly offering my room to the new transfer.”

Murmurs rippled through the Great Hall. 

“Lucian Darkona wants to room with a human?”

“Lucian never associates with humans?”

“Has he changed or is there just something really special about that kid?”

Well, out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.

At that moment, being exposed as a magical fraud seemed almost preferable to having to room with Lucian Darkona—especially since he was only doing this to make it easier to drag me into whatever evil scheme he was cooking up. Buuuuut, on the other hand—if we roomed together it would make it easier for me to keep him from merging with The Great Darkness and killing Owen Thorn. 

Banecliff glanced at me, arching a pale brow. “Are you alright with this arrangement?”

I guess I would just have to suck it up and suffer in order to save the man of my dreams.

Oh the things we do for love. 

I let out a resigned sigh. “Sure.”

“Wonderful,” Banecliff said. “And Lucian, I’m so happy to see a member of the Darkona family reaching out to befriend a human. It’s truly inspiring—”

That’s when the doors to the Great Hall suddenly blew open. I didn’t have to worry about people whispering about me after that, because all eyes were on what was coming through the door.

A giant serpent covered in fluffy white fur with iridescent wings soared inside. Shrieks rang out from the students as they scattered, chairs screeching against the stone floor and clattering to the ground. The beast landed beside one of the tables, its massive wings creating a gust that sent napkins and utensils flying.

The figure riding on the serpent's back stepped from her onto the table with the effortless grace of someone who knew they belonged in the spotlight. Every student watched, completely awestruck.

There he was.

Owen Thorn. 

My head spun. There he was, in real life, the boy I had spent almost my entire life fantasizing about.

He was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. His ruffled white hair fell against a perfect face dusted with freckles, his red eyes shining like rubies. The dark blue of his jacket fluttered behind him as he strode across the length of the table, coming to a stop before the faculty. He offered them a bow. 

Lucian rolled his eyes. “Such a drama queen.”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Owen said in a voice that sounded like it oozed honey, rich and smooth. “I got a little held up on the way here. Luckily, I was able to catch a ride.” He gestured to the serpent, which was now curling its body protectively around the base of the table, its large eyes shimmering like molten gold as it watched Owen just like everyone else. “Don’t worry. She’s friendly, I promise.”

Owen gave a smile that radiated like sunlight, his teeth gleaming white as his eyes crinkled at the corners.

One look at that smile and the excitement was just too much. My heart raced, my breath quickened, and a dizzying wave of euphoria washed over me. The room seemed to spin, the faces of the students and faculty merging into a blur.

My eyes rolled back, and I fainted.