Mistress Ray clapped her hands, the sound sharp and cheerful, breaking the quiet reverence of the room. "Now then," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "let me introduce you to your official guide and student representative. Harry Hook!"

The door creaked open, and through it stepped a young man who could've walked straight out of a pirate story. His grin was lopsided and wicked, a crooked thing that somehow made him even more handsome. Dark hair fell in loose waves around his sharp face, and his piercing blue eyes sparkled with mischief. But the most striking detail was his namesake: a gleaming silver hook where his left hand should've been, catching the light with every subtle movement.

"Hey there, duckling," he greeted, his voice low and drawling, as though every word was dipped in charisma. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his grin widening as he took me in. "Don't worry—I'll take good care of ye."

I blinked, unsure whether to be flattered or mildly annoyed by the nickname. "Duckling?" I echoed, arching an eyebrow.

"Aye," he replied, pushing off the frame and striding closer, his boots clicking against the crystal floor. "Yer new here, all wide-eyed and shiny. Just like a wee duckling waddlin' into a big, scary pond."

Mistress Ray stifled a laugh behind her hand, clearly amused by the interaction. "Harry's our finest student representative," she assured me, though her tone carried a playful undertone. "He's been here long enough to know every secret passage, every hidden nook, and, of course, every rule he's likely to bend."

Harry winked at her. "Only when it's absolutely necessary, Mistress Ray."

She rolled her starry eyes but waved him off with a smile. "He's your guide now. Show her the ropes, Harry. And remember: I'm always watching."

"Wouldn't dream of misbehavin', ma'am," Harry said with a mock salute, his hook clinking against his chest as he did so.

He turned to me then, his crooked grin softening just a touch. "Come on, duckling. I'll show ye around. Don't worry—I don't bite." He paused, his grin sharpening once more. "Unless ye ask nicely."

I felt my cheeks flush, caught off guard by his boldness. But before I could form a coherent response, he was already leading the way, his gait easy and confident as though he owned the place.

"Welcome to Magispectra Academy," he called over his shoulder. "Ye're gonna love it here, trust me. It's a wild ride, and I'm the perfect captain to steer ye through."

I glanced back at Mistress Ray, who gave me an encouraging nod. With a deep breath and a mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling within me, I followed Harry Hook out of the room, ready to begin whatever adventure awaited.

SCENEBREAK

"And here we have our princelings," Harry said with a flourish of his hook, nodding toward a table nestled under a grand archway. Seated there were a collection of ethereal beings, each one more regal than the last. Their wings shimmered with opulence—golden feathers, silken blues, and iridescent hues that caught the light and refracted it like jewels. They were all chatting in hushed, elegant tones, their posture perfect, their movements impossibly graceful.

It was hard not to stare, their beauty so overwhelming it felt otherworldly. But as I glanced at Harry, something odd struck me. He didn't have wings. Nothing. Not even the faintest shadow or trace where they might have been. Instead, there was only his sturdy frame, the glint of his silver hook, and the effortless charm he wore like armor.

The realization gnawed at me, and before I could stop myself, the question tumbled out. "May I ask—" I hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but... where are your wings?"

Harry froze mid-step, his crooked grin slipping for the briefest moment. His shoulders stiffened, and he let out a sigh, the sound weighted with something I couldn't quite name. He tilted his head toward me, his usual cocky demeanor muted. "I'll tell ye that one day, lass," he said, his voice softer now, with an edge that made me realize the subject wasn't a casual one.

I nodded quickly, not wanting to press him further. "Of course," I murmured.

He straightened, his usual swagger returning as though the moment of vulnerability had never happened. "But enough about me," he said, his grin slipping back into place like a well-worn mask. "There's plenty more to see, aye? And I promise, it's more interesting than boring ol' Harry Hook."

Yet, as we continued the tour, his words lingered. Behind his teasing charm and confident bravado, there was a story—a secret—that I couldn't help but wonder about.

SCENEBREAK

By the time lunch rolled around, Harry had taken it upon himself to introduce me to some of his mates. We entered the bustling dining hall, a cavernous space with floating lanterns casting a warm glow over dozens of tables crowded with students. He led me to a table near the back, where two of his friends were lounging like they owned the place—or at least acted like they did.

"This here's Uma," Harry said with a nod toward a striking girl with sea-green eyes and hair braided so tightly it looked like it could cut steel. She leaned back in her chair, radiating an aura of command that was hard to ignore. "And that poor sap," Harry added, gesturing to the boy beside her, "is Gil."

Gil gave me a big, goofy grin, waving a hand so enthusiastically he nearly knocked over his drink. "Hey there!" he said, his voice as cheery as a sunrise. It was immediately clear that Gil wasn't much of a thinker, bless his heart, but he seemed kind enough.

Uma, on the other hand, was watching me like I was a particularly interesting fish that had flopped onto her plate uninvited. Her sharp eyes scanned every inch of me, pausing just long enough on my wings to make me shift uncomfortably. Instinctively, I pulled them closer to my back, trying to make myself smaller under her scrutiny.

"So," she said finally, dragging the word out like a net through water. "You're the duckling, huh? I see why Harry calls you that." She smirked, but there wasn't much warmth in it.

"Uma," Harry warned lightly, though his tone lacked real bite.

Uma sighed dramatically and picked up a slice of tomato from her plate, inspecting it like it might hold all the answers to life's mysteries. "Relax, I'm just saying. New girl, shiny wings, clueless look in her eye. Just don't..." She paused, flicking her gaze toward a nearby table where the so-called princelings sat, their perfect wings gleaming as they laughed over some private joke. "...don't fuck with the rich girls, hmm?"

I blinked, unsure how to respond. Uma popped the tomato in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as if she hadn't just dropped a casual threat cloaked in advice.

Harry shot me a lopsided grin, clearly amused by the interaction. "Don't mind Uma," he said, nudging her shoulder with his hook. "She's all bark, no bite."

Uma raised an eyebrow. "Careful, Hook. You know I bite when I'm hungry."

Gil, oblivious to the tension, laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "She's kidding!" he said, though his nervous chuckle suggested he wasn't entirely sure.

I forced a smile, my wings fluttering faintly as I tried to shake off the unease. "Noted," I said, keeping my tone light even as my stomach twisted.

Harry leaned in closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Don't worry about Uma," he said with a wink. "She's just testin' ye. She does that to everyone. Stick with me, duckling, and ye'll be just fine."

I nodded, grateful for his reassurance, but Uma's words lingered in my mind. Clearly, Magispectra Academy wasn't just a school of magic—it was a game. And I'd just taken my first step onto the board.