Page 26 of Shattered & Returned

Headmistress Stardust Knew

I’d never been in a classroom before, and this one sat beneath high-arched ceilings painted with dark stars. Tall stained-glass windows filtered deep blue light across the space.

Polished ebony oak desks stood in neat rows, each occupied by first-year students—a gathering of power and privilege. Most looked eighteen or nineteen. A boy with faint blue markings spiraling up his forearms clearly carried water deity lineage. Nearby, twin girls, their irises flecked with metallic-silver, exchanged glances that crackled with electricity. And at the front, a narrow-shouldered young man held himself with unnatural poise, his bearing hinting at fae blood, or so Sindy told me from our corner seat.

I was glad she shared a few classes with me. Without her, I’d have been completely alone.

Every male student wore a proper suit. Women wore high-necked Victorian dresses with fitted bodices and floor-length skirts. Each gown boasted intricate ruching, delicate layering, and a cravat at the collar, the sleeves tapering at the wrists.

The designs varied slightly by house. For the House of Kingsley—distant descendants of gods—gowns shimmered in rich amber or deep blue, embroidered with metallic thread. The House of Ravencrux, home to hybrids, wore brown, charcoal, cream, or dusty mauve, our gowns cut in asymmetrical patterns.

I wore mauve.

For the House of Stardust—home to covens of witches and mages—gowns came in red, pink, or dark green, their high collars studded with crystal buttons. Their softly pleated skirts held more hidden pockets than ours, no doubt for spells.

Even as the rustle of fabric filled the room, every student hung on Headmistress Stardust’s every word. Her summer-blue eyes thrummed with old power. She was one of those women who defied age—she could have been anywhere between twenty and forty, or ageless.

She stood taller than anyone I’d ever met, her posture regal. Her golden hair was pinned in an elaborate arrangement, framing the flowing Greek chiton she wore, its silver band resting lightly across her shoulders like something out of a classical painting.

Headmistress Stardust traced a glowing sigil in the air, and it unfurled into a five-pointed star.“Today,”she announced, her voice carrying effortless authority,“we begin our study of the Five Systems of Magic, the foundation of all arcane practice.”Her elegant fingers caught the light as she gestured.“Each system draws from a different source of power and demands its own innate gifts.”

She tapped the first point of the star, and it pulsed a deep, luminous blue.

“Elemental Fabrication—the oldest and most instinctive form of magic. Those with an elemental affinity can bend natural forces to their will. If you descend from elemental deities, your ability will manifest.”

The words might as well have been a foreign language. My homeschooling had never covered magic. Until yesterday, I hadn’t even known it existed, let alone that so many supernaturals gathered in one place. Now I was expected to understand these theories?

A student with frost-tipped hair raised her hand.“Lady Stardust, my mother could only control water, but I manipulate all liquids. Why am I stronger when I’m further down the bloodline?”

“Elemental affinities often expand as bloodlines merge,”the headmistress replied.“Your human father likely carried alchemical traits.”

She moved to the second point, its glow a warm, glittering gold.

“Divine Channeling requires a direct connection to higher powers or beings. Those with god-blood can tap into divine energy reservoirs.”

The third point pulsed with a soft green light.

“Alchemical Manipulation is the magic of change and catalysis. Its practitioners reshape matter—even their own flesh—at its most fundamental level.”

All of this was new to me. I might have been the only one in the room who didn’t understand a word she was saying. I was completely out of my depth.

The headmistress touched the fourth point, which pulsed a deep violet.

“Soul Casting binds practitioners to the realm of spirits, memories, and consciousness,” she said, her gaze lingering on me. “Those with blood ties to underworld deities have a natural affinity.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was she implying I might be descended from some forgotten death god?

Headmistress Stardust moved to the final point, its light twinkling like distant stars.

“Cosmic Weaving, the rarest of all systems, draws power from the fabric of existence itself. Those who wield it can bend time, space, and chance, but never without consequence. It awakens only in descendants of primordial beings who existed before this universe took shape.”

“Bloom Aurelius, do you have a question?” she asked.

How did she even know my name? I was just another new face in the crowd.

“Uh?” I stammered. “I’m sorry, Lady Stardust, but I didn’t raise my hand.” I gestured toward a curly-haired boy two rows over. “He did—look, his hand is still up!”

Headmistress Stardust arched an eyebrow, dismissing the forest of raised hands around us. “Surely you have questions, given your…unique background?”

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