The fairy lights pulsed gently above me like tired stars. Kendi had fallen still, the soft rise and fall of her breath syncing with the heartbeat of the room. 

I stared at my deck.

Not just any tarot—the Cosmic Deck. Woven into existence by stardust and ancient intuition, it shimmered, the backs a swirl of galaxies and silver-thread constellations. Each card pulsed with faint cosmic light, like it knew more than I did. And it did. The stars always did.

This wouldn't be a regular three-card spread. I needed five cards, the full cosmic picture.  

Five was for fate, not choice. The kind of spread you only used when the stars stayed silent… or when the question was too big for a yes or no.

With a sigh, I drew the first card.

THE VEILED PLANET.

Card of illusions, lunar shadows, and secrets in orbit.

A planet shrouded in mist floated across the card, half-lit by a dying star. Orbiting moons wore expressions—some watchful, some blindfolded.

My throat tightened.

This was the cosmic version of The Moon, yes—but older. Stranger. It warned of something hidden in the folds of time. Of shadows that had intent, even when cloaked.

Something saw me. That much was clear.

I drew again.

THE FRACTURED STAR.

Card of sudden collapse, stellar implosion, cataclysm without warning.

A supernova, mid-explosion. Nebulae cracked and curling away like glass. Pieces of starlight flying into nothing.

I blinked. My breath caught.

Something is going to break.

Not gently. Not slowly. Not even fairly.

The next card trembled between my fingers before it turned itself.

THE MIRRORED COSMOS.

Card of duality, danger masked in beauty, desire twisted by gravity.

A figure stood at the edge of space, staring into a mirrored galaxy. The reflection wasn’t identical. In the twin universe, it grinned with sharp teeth.

I shivered.

There’s a difference between curiosity and temptation. 

And something...something out there knew how to mimic what we wanted.

I paused.

This wasn’t fortune-telling anymore. It felt like confirmation.

I drew the fourth card.

THE FORGOTTEN CONSTELLATION.

Card of loss, ancient grief, patterns erased from the night sky.

Stars blinked out on the card’s surface one by one. A celestial shape vanished before I could trace it, like a name wiped from memory.

Something had been erased. Forgotten.

On purpose.

Maybe that’s what was in the forest. Something unrecorded. Undocumented.

But not dead.

I reached for the last card, hand trembling.

This one burned cold.

THE VOID COURT.

Card of judgment withheld, knowledge beyond understanding, silence with teeth.

Seven cloaked figures floated in the vacuum of space, seated on thrones carved from black holes. Their eyes were nebulae. Their mouths? closed.

They knew.

But they would not say.

I stared at the spread laid across my bed. My Cosmic Deck pulsed once, then dimmed—silent now. Not uninterested.

Just... finished.

Yes.

There had been something in the trees.

Not a metaphor. Not a trick of light.

Real. Malevolent. Ancient.

It didn’t matter that I couldn’t name it. Or describe it. Or even understand it.

The cards had shown me the truth without apology.

I sat there for a moment longer, my breath fogged in the air—though the room wasn't cold. The stars had spoken—and they never lied.

Whatever was waiting in the forest wasn’t a part of the trials.

It was older than rules. Older than us.

And it was watching.

I slid the cards back into their velvet pouch, my fingers trembling. 

Then, before I could process everything, thirty minutes were already over.

I woke Kendi up and rushed for the orientation.

*°*

The lady at the front shot her fist into the air, a sharp, unspoken order that silenced us all in an instant.

Then, she began to speak, her voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the gathering. “Witches of all kinds, all from glamorous campuses, how are you this evening?”

She was short, with white hair pulled into a bun that looked stiff as if it might crack if she turned too fast. Her wrinkles were deep, etched with what looked like years of expressions that ranged from amusement to stern scolding. But her voice, surprisingly clear and crisp, rang through the crowd like a bell, making even the laziest among us perk up. I was at the very back and still felt like she was addressing me directly.

A chorus of “We’re good!” and “Just great!” rose from the crowd, though I murmured my own greeting under my breath, standing among the restless group of young witches. 

In the dimming light, we stood in front of the towering edifice of the Castle, a place that looked like it might actually be breathing, watching us with a quiet, ancient amusement.

We’ve all come here for one reason… to become Beautiful Witches,” she declared, her grin slow and sharp—like a blade wrapped in velvet. It wasn’t just confidence. It was the kind of smile that knew most of us wouldn’t make it.

And she was right. Only one of us would.

The crowd roared, some people clapping. It was a sound filled with bravado, mixed with a touch of nervousness.

She gave the crowd a moment to take it all in before continuing, “But rest assured—the true Beautiful Witch is in here,” she said, tapping her chest right over her heart.

I clapped, envisioning myself as her—an elegant witch cloaked in stardust, wielding the cosmos with a mere flick of my hand. A girl sculpted from pride, wearing joy like a crown, her name spoken in awe across realms. And above all else—more than magic, more than glory—a girl that made her mother proud.

The lady’s finger hovered there for a moment, as if she were trying to feel her own heartbeat. 

Then, a sheet of parchment appeared in her hand—from thin air—its edges curling as she held it up to her nose. “For your first trials, you'll be grouped." 

One by one, she began calling names, and students scattered like ants to form groups as soon as they heard theirs. 

Next to me, Kendi, my sleepy roommate who’d barely uttered two words since I woke her up, was bouncing on her toes, eager to find out who she’d be stuck with.

I hadn’t seen Sofia yet, but I was keeping my eyes peeled for her—she would stand out in one way or another. 

Then, as if summoned by my thoughts, I heard her name. She sashayed to her group, all cool confidence, a Polaroid camera dangling around her neck.

For a moment, I couldn’t recognize it.

Then… I did.

My mom gave it to her on her thirteenth birthday. I couldn't help but wonder how it had survived all these years. Knowing her—never the sentimental type—it was surprising. Ten years later, and it was still here. Still intact. It had to mean something to her. Maybe even more than it ever meant to me.

That camera never seemed to stop flashing—she’d taken loads of shots of people, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it kept going through to dinner.

Kendi and I waited, shifting on our feet as the list went on and on. Just as I began to worry they’d forgotten me, my name rang out: “Sabriella Star.” Finally. I sighed with relief, giving Kendi a little nudge. She rolled her eyes but grinned.

“Kendi Green,” came next, right after mine. “And lastly, Colton Storm.”

Of course Colton had to be in our group. The backstabber.

Just hearing his name made my stomach drop. He’d already proven he couldn’t be trusted—hooking up with Xavier’s girlfriend like loyalty was optional. And Xavier? My crush? He didn’t deserve that.

The woman at the front clapped her hands together, dragging our attention back to her.  “I’m afraid this team will only have four members until further notice,” she announced as the parchment vanished from her hand.

I let out a sigh. 

Our team was a disaster before we’d even started. One less member, a backstabber, a green witch who practically lived in her dreams, an anonymous girl somewhere in the crowd, and me. This competition was doomed. 

As people milled around, finding their groups, I spotted our last member—Natalie. She was tall, with wavy blonde hair, curvy in all the right places, and had blue eyes that sparkled like she’d stepped straight out of a magazine. She was dressed in faded blue jeans and a white crop top that screamed confidence. Her eyes landed on Colton just as he approached.

“Hi, is this Natalie’s group?” Colton grinned, looking right at her. And of course, she lit up, all smiles. “You found us,” she beamed, almost fluttering her lashes.

“Nice to meet you guys!” he said, his usual mischievous grin spreading across his face. “And I’m a jock, by the way.” He flexed his bicep, which, admittedly, looked pretty impressive but only added to the smugness radiating off him.

“And I’m a cheerleader,” Natalie giggled, giving him a playful wink.

Kendi and I exchanged a look. They were flirting openly in front of us, which was both impressive and nauseating. 

Kendi muttered under her breath, “At this rate, I’ll be asleep by the time they’re done.”

I had to suppress a laugh.

Watching their little show was like being the third wheel in a two-person play. They were so into each other that they barely noticed the rest of us. Then again, maybe that was for the best. I could focus on surviving this mess instead of watching Colton and Natalie’s budding romance.

The rest of the day went on, each of us half-heartedly trying to get to know each other. Kendi, unsurprisingly, wanted to know when she could go back to our room and sleep. Colton, meanwhile, couldn’t stop talking about the many ways he was so useful in a crisis—“I’m basically a walking storm,” he boasted. Natalie was a necromancer, which might have been useful if we were dealing with corpses, and I was a cosmic witch with a decent understanding of star maps and tarot, but no real combat experience.

A winning team if I’d ever seen one.

After a round of awkward introductions and thinly veiled flirting, we headed towards the great hall.

A long, polished oak table stretched from one end of the room to the other, its surface etched with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with a silvery glow. 

The air was thick with the aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and spiced soups, but beneath it lingered the faint tang of herbs—sage, rosemary, and something sharper, magical. 

Platters piled high with food lined the table—golden roast chicken that seemed to shimmer as if enchanted, bowls of emerald-green salad topped with petals that glinted like frost, and potatoes so crispy I could almost hear the crunch as their golden skins caught the flickering chandeliers from floating orbs above.

Sofia found me immediately, snapping pictures of the feast before it was even served. “Stop it,” I hissed.

She grinned, undeterred. “Just a few more. Besides, who can resist this?” She raised her camera and took a picture of the roast, the flash blinding me momentarily. 

Classic Sofia. The only thing that could rival her loyalty was her ego.

After taking a seat, I bit a spoonful of soup, savoring the rich flavor as it warmed me from the inside. Each bite was a welcome distraction from the looming competition, a tiny escape from the chaotic day. The flavors were bold, comforting, like a taste of something magical that softened the evening’s anxiety.

Just as I finished, the woman from earlier tapped her spoon on her glass, commanding silence. “Attention, please.” Her voice held that same authority as before, and everyone immediately turned to face her.

“Tomorrow is your big day,” she said, her eyes sweeping across the room with a gleam of excitement. “Do whatever it takes to claim your title. Prove that you are worthy of becoming a Beautiful Witch. And remember, you're all Beautiful Witches until you lose, so don't lose."

The hall erupted in cheers, and while everyone else clapped, I shook my head, swallowing down the reality of it all.

This was the beginning of something big. And maybe, just maybe, I had a chance—if I could keep my sanity with a backstabber, a lovesick necromancer, and a sleep McDreamface on my team.

But here... Here I was sitting shoulder to shoulder with my competitors. Including Sofia.

A small, nagging part of me twisted in my gut—the thought of going head-to-head with her. What would happen if it came down to us? Could I really face her?

I glanced and smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

There was a time when we shared everything—dreams, secrets, stolen snacks at midnight.

Now, I couldn’t even tell if she’d want me to win.

Or worse… if I’d want her to.