Page 11 of Magical Mission
“Oh no,” I muttered, brushing one off my hair. “What now?”
“They want something,” my grandmother said dryly, watching them with mild amusement. “They always want something.”
The sprites tugged harder, pulling at my red top, steering me toward a narrow aisle near the back of the library. A place I hadn’t dared to explore yet.
My grandma followed, curiosity in her gaze.
They led us to a small alcove, barely wide enough for two people, lined floor to ceiling with dusty scrolls and ledgers.
I blinked. “What is this?”
Grandma Elira’s mouth twitched. “Ah. I recognize this section.”
The sprites circled an ancient, gilded ledger perched on a pedestal, clearly waiting for me to notice.
I did.
The cracked and worn cover had barely legible writing now. But I could just make out the title:The Academy’s Mission: A Chronicle of Purpose.
I frowned. “Mission statements?”
My grandma nodded, stepping forward, her hand hovering over the ledger like she was afraid to touch it. “Everyheadmistress wrote one. Every generation added its vision for the Academy’s purpose.”
The ledger shimmered faintly as I opened it, the pages brittle but alive with old magic. Each entry was written in a different hand, some elaborate, others simple. And each one, I realized, reflected the time it was written.
Unity.
Excellence.
Power through knowledge.
Balance between factions.
Every generation had shaped the Academy into what they believed it needed to be.
And now…
I turned to the next page.
Blank.
Grandma Elira watched me, her expression unreadable. “It’s waiting for you, Maeve.”
I swallowed hard, staring at the empty space.
It felt like the weight of the entire Academy pressed down on me in that moment.
“What if I don’t know what to write?” I whispered.
She smiled softly. “Then you listen. To the Academy. To the students. To your heart. It’s always been about the people who walk these halls and those who leave to make our world better.”
I ran my fingers over the empty page, the texture rough beneath my fingertips.
I didn’t have the words yet.
But I would.
And when I did… it would be something no one ever forgot.
