Chapter One: New Beginnings (and Probable Death)
Hey.
I'm Arabella Solstice, and I've been sent to die.
The year is 2345. October… 5th? 6th? I don't know. I wasn't exactly in the mood to check when they shoved me on the boat.
I lean against the railing and watch the island loom in the distance like some cursed postcard. Jagged cliffs. Black towers. A forest that looks like it eats people.
Astral Academy. Where the continent sends its magical trash to rot.
This world—or continent, really—is run by supernaturals. They make up just one in every hundred people, but when the population's sitting at around 2.3 billion? That's a lot of magic running around.
Each country is ruled by a dominant supernatural family. Sure, they technically "assist" the human government, but we all know who pulls the strings.
In Urasia, that family is mine: the Solstices. A prestigious bloodline of wizards known for our light magic. Illumination, sigils, holy beams. All very dramatic. Very radiant.
Except, well—me.
Let's rewind.
My dad, Richard Solstice, was in love. Deeply. Head-over-heels, fate-bonded, soulmate-level love.
Unfortunately, my mother—power hungry opportunist—pulled some strings and married him first.
They had Adrian, the golden boy. The perfect heir. And then, a year later, they had me.
The same year though I was born though —surprise!—my father brought home his true love and their daughter, Angela.
So here's the lineup:
My mother got her perfect son.
My father got the love of his life and her perfect daughter.
And me?
Well, I got the short end of a very cursed wand.
I'm the extra. The inconvenient one. The glittery footnote in a family of chosen ones.
Sure, I'm a little narcissistic. A bit self-centered. Did I throw tantrums when I was younger? Absolutely. But that was because I was naive and sought the affection of my parents. Still the rumors about me are insane.
Apparently I bully my sister, I'm the evil half sister. Terrorize the servants. Kick puppies. (For the record, I'm genuinely just a cat person.)
Every time I post a picture, the comments flood in.
"Witch."
"Die already."
"I'd curse you myself if I could afford the legal fees."
And yet… I have over 40 million followers. They love to hate me. They eat up every post. I should start charging rent for how much space I take up in their heads.
Oh right. Back to the dying.
There are four major magical academies on the continent. I've been to three. Expelled from each for either:
Lacking talent,
Bullying (debatable),
Or "behavior unbecoming of a Solstice."
Which leaves me with one final destination:
Astral Academy.
A floating island of magical misery. Home to criminals, curse-bearers, unstable bloodlines, and now... me.
No one really graduates from Astral. You either leave in a coffin or never leave at all. The survival rate is a joke. Supernaturals don't exactly believe in "humane education."
They allow duels to the death. Classes that break bones. Teachers that might be murderers. Honestly, I wouldn't be shocked if Angela planned this herself. Snake-bitch.
I sigh and open my phone.
The reception's bad, but I manage to snap a selfie—me in my faux-fur travel coat, island of doom behind me, pout just right.
Caption: New beginnings.
Upload.
As expected, the hate rolls in like high tide.
"Spoiled brat."
"Hope you finally die there."
"Should've drowned on the way."
I roll my eyes and smile faintly to myself.
They want me dead so badly?
Honestly I'm living out of spite.