Chapter 2: The Door That Shouldn’t Exist

The crowd swallowed the silver-winged fae like mist. Angel stood frozen, her fingers clamped around the pendant at her chest. It pulsed beneath her grip, but the thrum no longer felt comforting—it felt like a countdown. A fragile barrier between her and discovery.

“I need a better plan than this stupid necklace…” she muttered under her breath.

She ducked away from the flow of students, slipping into a shadowed alcove between two crumbling stone pillars. Here, the light from the enchanted candles barely touched the corners. Her breath came fast and shallow as her back pressed against the cold wall.

This wasn’t just about pretending anymore. Not when creatures with eyes sharper than truth walked the same halls. Not when illusions could be shattered with a glance. The realization settled over her like a stormcloud.

If they find out I’m human… I won’t just be expelled.

She shook her head. No. She needed something better. Stronger. A real plan.

That’s when she saw it.

Half-hidden by layers of ivy and ancient dust, nestled deep in the shadows of the alcove, was a door. It wasn’t like the others—this one looked far older. The wood was dark and rough, veined with silvery rune markings that glowed softly, as though breathing in time with her heartbeat.

She stepped closer, drawn by instinct. The air around it vibrated faintly, as if the door were alive... watching her.

Her hand hovered above the handle. What is this place?

“Should I open it?” she whispered to no one.

The silence answered.

A glance behind her confirmed the hallway was empty, at least for now. Taking a deep breath, Angel pressed her hand against the door. It swung inward with a low creak, revealing a narrow staircase spiraling downward into shadow.

At the bottom was a room.

A library—but nothing like the one at her school back home. This one was older than time. Massive wooden shelves reached so high they disappeared into darkness, and every book seemed to hum with dormant magic. The scent of parchment and candle soot mixed with something electric, like the calm before a storm.

Angel stepped inside slowly.

The moment her foot touched the marble floor, the air changed. It pressed against her skin with invisible weight, thick with knowledge, secrets, and something else... something watching.

The pendant flared, a brief pulse, before going silent again.

“I can’t keep pretending,” she whispered. “I need real answers.”

Her eyes scanned the shelves, and something flickered in the corner of her vision—a faint glow. A book lay open on a pedestal, its pages fluttering as though a breeze moved through them. She approached cautiously.

The words on the page were written in a strange, curling script, but somehow, she understood them.

“To walk among predators cloaked in lies is to risk becoming the hunted. If you seek truth, be prepared to bleed for it.”

Angel swallowed hard.

This was it. This was what she needed. Not another lie. Not another disguise.

Power. Knowledge. A way to survive Lunaria without pretending to be something she wasn’t.

Or maybe… a way to become something no one saw coming.

The heavy door groaned shut behind her, sealing the rest of Lunaria Academy away with a finality that sent a chill up Angel’s spine.

She stood still, the breath caught in her chest. Dust swirled lazily through the thick air, and the silence was so dense it felt sacred—like breaking it would awaken something old and dangerous.

All around her, the towering shelves seemed to move ever so slightly. Books shifted, covers whispering against ancient wood. Some pulsed faintly with light, others crackled softly with energy, like living things sleeping beneath leather skin. One tome hissed as she passed it, its spine arcing like a cat disturbed.

Angel clutched the silver pendant at her throat and took a slow step forward.

“This place is alive…” she breathed.

A flicker of light emerged from the darkness. A small orb—no bigger than her palm—hovered beside her shoulder, its glow gentle and warm. It moved slowly, as if inviting her to follow. She hesitated, then whispered:

“I need to find something—anything—that can help me stay hidden. Or fight. Or… survive.”

The orb pulsed in reply and glided ahead, leading her down winding corridors of endless knowledge. The shelves curved in impossible directions, bending space like a maze without rules. She passed tomes bound in chainmail, scrolls sealed in wax, and grimoires that seemed to breathe as she neared.

Then, the orb stopped.

It hovered before a lone pedestal in the center of a narrow aisle. Upon it rested an old leather-bound book. Its edges frayed, the cover cracked with age. Etched in curling gold script, almost faded beyond reading, were the words:

“Veils & Vessels: Human Magic Hidden Among the Divine.”

Angel’s breath hitched.

“Human… magic?”

Her fingers trembled as she touched the cover. A strange warmth spread up her arm, not unpleasant, but deeply unnatural—like being seen. The book opened itself with a faint rustle, revealing pages written in an elegant, slanted hand. The ink shimmered faintly, like moonlight on ink-black water.

The words told of forgotten bloodlines—humans who once forged contracts with beings older than magic. They offered fragments of their soul for stolen spells. Illusion glyphs, elemental bindings, protective veils—dangerous, forbidden, but real.

One passage caught her eye:

“Veil of False Flame: mimics a witch’s aura for one lunar cycle. Requires ash from a firelit grave and a drop of shadowroot ink.”

Angel’s eyes darted to the margins, where notes had been scrawled in different handwriting—warnings, symbols, attempts.

She began scribbling the ingredients on the back of a spare paper tag from her hoodie. The book resisted slightly beneath her hands, as though it could sense her desperation.

As she reached the final pages, the orb beside her dimmed. A warning, perhaps.

“Should a human survive here too long, the world will begin to notice. And not all eyes that watch do so with kindness.”

Angel’s stomach turned. She clutched the book closer to her chest.

And then she heard it.

A voice, soft as velvet and twice as sharp, echoed from somewhere deeper in the library:

“You shouldn’t be here. This place… chooses who enters.”

She spun around, heart hammering.

A figure emerged from the shadows—tall, draped in a cloak of midnight and fog. Their hood concealed most of their face, but what little Angel could see shimmered faintly, like light reflecting off water. Not quite human. Not quite safe.

“I—I needed answers,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to break any rules.”

The figure tilted their head.

“Then you found what you came for. But know this: once you awaken power that doesn’t belong to this world… something else may come looking for you.”

They glanced at the book in her arms. Something unreadable flickered behind their concealed expression.

Then they vanished, dissolving between the shelves like smoke in wind.

Angel stood in silence, clutching the book tightly. The orb gave one last pulse and faded away, plunging the library back into quiet shadow.

But the plan had already taken root in her mind.

She couldn’t stay hidden behind lies. Not forever.

If this place was going to devour her... she’d make sure it choked on the attempt.

—To Be Continued—