"H-Headmistress Praelia?" Sancho said nervously, entering her office. His fears dissipated slightly once he adjusted to his new surroundings. Isadora Praelia's office was breathtaking. Three walls, including the one with the door, were plastered with bookcases that seemed to be overflowing with books: there were even ladders to access books on higher shelves. The fourth wall, the one Sancho was facing, was made entirely of glass. It had a view of the entire Castelobruxo grounds, as well as the jungle surrounding it. One of the glass panels had been cracked open, and sweet and familiar Amazonian air was filtering through. From this view, the grounds looked intoxicatingly inviting.

Her desk was in the center of what Sancho would describe as organized chaos. Magical devices, artifacts, and even creatures were on display around her office (with some books strewn on the floor next to them), but her desk sat in the middle completely pristine: Sancho thought that Isadora Praelia's office was a reflection of her brilliance. She was watching Sancho from a chair behind her desk, observing his reaction.

"Can I get your verdict, Mr. Clave?" She asked, her voice melodic. Sancho broke into a grin.

"It's... unique, Headmistress. I- In a good way, of course." She smiled back at him and summoned a chair.

"Why thank you, Sancho. I get mixed reactions: some seem to think it's too eclectic."

"Can't imagine why," The two burst out laughing as if they had just been told the funniest joke in the world. Any anxiety about meeting his Mentor immediately left Sancho as he took a seat, getting comfortable. He noticed a giant harp with gold strings and looked at it curiously. "If I may, Headmistress Praelia... What's that?" He pointed to it. She turned her head slightly to the harp and looked back at Sancho.

"First, Sancho, please call me Profesora Praelia. Headmistress sounds antique," his eyes widened and bowed his head. "And this harp is actually a Dark Magic detector. The gold strings hum whenever there's something... off, for the lack of a better word. It's almost ironic," she mused. "It plays such a beautiful tune to warn us of devastating catastrophe ahead."

"Maybe it's trying to soothe us."

"Maybe..." Her face turned serious. "But enough about Dark Magic — rest assured, there is none at Castelobruxo or in the much-loved jungle surrounding it. In fact, this jungle is believed to have the purest and most ancient forms of Light Magic."

"How do you know?" Sancho asked before thinking, his curiosity getting the best of him. "Oh - I apologize, I shouldn't have asked... you don't have to answer me, Profesora Praelia." She stood up suddenly, looking out the window.

"It's quite alright, Sancho," She paused, and something told her that just as much as Sancho could trust her, she could trust him. She decided to tell him something that only Paloma Lucera had known. "I... see things, sometimes. In my dreams. I can barely remember them when I wake up, but I get vague ideas."

"Wow," Sancho breathed. "Do you think you could be talking to," he lowered his voice. "Spirits?" She chuckled at his wonder and excitement — it reminded her very much of her own when she was his age.

"Perhaps! But enough about me, Sancho. I'm not interesting at all," Sancho heavily disagreed with her but decided to keep quiet. "Tell me more about yourself, rather..." Deciding that he would unravel the talking-to-spirits mystery later, Sancho launched into a narrative about himself.

◦

Isadora Praelia and Sancho Clave were engaged in an animated conversation about Manticores when the clock struck eleven. Surprised by the sound of the distant bells, they both jumped in their seats.

"Eleven o'clock already — you should be getting back soon, Sancho." Praelia said, standing up.

"I probably should," Sancho said, yawning and stretching. "Although I can't imagine Felix is back already, he's probably still talking Profesor Cisnero's ears off." Sancho had told her a lot about his best friend, and she could see that the two were thick as thieves.

"He's lucky Castelobruxo doesn't have a curfew. I've heard that Hogwarts — you know, the school in Northern Europa — does, and the punishments are rather nasty."

"I've heard about that," Sancho said, tucking a curl behind his ear. "Can you imagine not being able to grab a midnight snack from the kitchens during examinations? That'd be awful. I doubt Felix would be caught, though — he has a bit of a lucky streak." Sancho and Praelia started walking towards her office door.

"Ah, we could all use a little luck from time to time. Good night, Sancho," She replied, opening the door. "It has been an utmost pleasure getting to know you."

"Good night, Profesora. Thanks for being my Mentor." She bowed her head humbly as Sancho slipped into the hallway, his mind way too active to go to bed. He stopped by the kitchens on the way back to his room, picking up some warm milk and fried plantains for Felix, his favorite midnight snack (it didn't need to be midnight for Felix to eat fried plantains, though — he had once told Sancho that he could eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner). As Sancho made his way to the Second Year dormitories, he reflected on his conversation with his Mentor.

He decided that Isadora Praelia was the most fascinating and powerful person he'd ever met. He couldn't wait to write a letter to his father, a Historian at the Administración de Actividad Magical, the magical government of Southern America. Sancho loved his father, Francisco, dearly — he was hardworking and wasn't paid nearly enough, but was passionate about the history of magic. When Sancho was younger, Francisco would act out famous battles, such as Merlin and Morgan's famous duel or vicious goblin uprisings. Sancho would scream gleefully, clapping his hands and asking him to act it all over again.

Unfortunately, and much to Francisco's heartbreak, Sancho's mother had died at childbirth. But as he held his newborn son, who was already smiling widely at him, he swore he'd take care of him to the best of the ability. Sancho had inherited his mother's eyes and golden curls, and although it sometimes pained Francisco when he carefully brushed his son's hair, he never let any of it show. Despite growing up rather poor due to his father's small salary, Sancho knew he had been given the best possible childhood.

He pushed the door open to his room — as he had guessed, Felix wasn't back from his meeting with Profesor Cisneros. Carefully, he placed the small plate of fried plantains on Felix's bedside table and went to take a seat on his bed, drinking his glass of warm milk. Sancho's mind wandered as he thought about Profesora Praelia's ability to talk to otherworldly beings. He wondered whether what, or who, they were, and why they could talk to her and not anyone else. He promised to himself that he'd ask his Mentor more questions the next time they'd meet. He got ready for bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

◦

The world was screaming. Or at least that's what Sancho heard when he woke up abruptly, sweating, close to having one of his anxiety attacks. Something was wrong — terribly wrong. It was in the air around him, wrapping around his neck and choking him, laughing maniacally. He couldn't breathe. He ripped off his blankets and stood up, his head spinning.

He turned to Felix's bed but saw that his friend was sleeping soundly, apparently undisturbed. He took three deep breaths. And three more. The world hadn't stopped screaming, but if Felix was okay, maybe it wasn't as bad as Sancho thought. Maybe, just maybe, it was his own head. But Sancho couldn't convince himself that what he was experiencing was a product of his own overactive imagination. There was definitely something else. Something eerie. Dangerous. He decided to go for a quick walk to calm himself down.

"Lumos," He muttered, walking briskly and desperately trying to ignore the constant screaming. But no matter where he went, or what hallway he turned to, it followed him. Sancho was fervently ignoring his surroundings when he accidentally bumped into someone. "Sorry — Profesora?" He looked up at his Mentor incredulously, who bore a haunted look on her face.

"Do you hear it too?" She whispered. Sancho didn't like where the conversation was heading. "The screaming?"

"Yes." He murmured, terrified.

"The harp hasn't stopped humming since it started... It's very Dark Magic, Sancho. Only that could have set off the balance. Have you run into anyone else tonight?" He shivered.

"N- No — at least, I don't think so. And Felix seemed to be sleeping soundly." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's a good sign... whatever it is, it's not on Castelobruxo grounds."

"Profesora, what is 'it', exactly?" Sancho asked nervously. The screaming had receded, but it left him with a feeling of unbalance in the air like the magical scales had been tipped.

"I can only guess, Sancho... But it's somewhere nearby. In the jungle. I'll have to warn the staff and students... We'll need reinforcements." Sancho had no idea how she had calmed herself down so quickly, but he admired her strong presence, despite the fact that she was clearly shaken.

"What can I do to help?" He asked, trying to be as brave as her. She looked down at him. He was young — too young, but Isadora Praelia never underestimated her students' abilities to be mature and understanding. She crouched down, facing him.

"Go back to your dormitory and get a good night's rest," He started to argue, but she held her hand up. "But, on the way there, I want you to cast Protection Spells — hold your wand against the walls — and put your heart into it." He nodded and set off for his dormitory. Praelia watched him run down the hall, slowing down to cast a spell here and there. She remained there until she couldn't see the light at the end of his wand anymore, until she stood alone in the hallway, engulfed in darkness.

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i love sancho and isadora's relationship. he needs a mother figure in his life and she's kind of that for him right now... especially because things are about to get dark for the both of them. what did you think about this chapter? any guesses for what (or who...) made the scales tip? 

quick note -- both sancho and isadora felt the 'tip of the magical scales' because they are both very powerful wizards (because sancho has ambroses' magic in him!). the rest of the school maybe felt it a little, like something was off, but not as strongly as them. 

i miss nicholas. hopefully ambrose will be reunited with him soon (not too soon -- i also love sancho haha). i feel like him & felix would get along.

votes/comments/suggestions/thoughts/rants/love poems always welcome. thank you for reading and supporting immortality  ♥︎

best,

clara