We finally arrived at the school.
The carriage rumbled through massive wrought-iron gates, above which hung a polished golden sign that read:
GOLDEN PHOENIX COLLEGE
Home to the Best.
"So cliché," I muttered, watching the sign fade behind us. My gaze dropped to the gravel crunching beneath the carriage wheels. Gravel. Really?
But then I looked ahead—and my jaw dropped.
Whoa.
Spread before us was a breathtaking view: six colossal buildings, easily twice the size of our own castle, lined the horizon like sleeping giants. Each had its own personality—towers, domes, flying buttresses—and far behind them, on a distant hill, stood a grand structure that resembled a cathedral carved from moonlight.
"[Hey, do you see that one? The building with the Isles' flags?]" Izel asked, leaning over to point toward the structure we were approaching. The moment my eyes landed on it, everything else blurred. The six massive buildings vanished into smudged outlines.
Was it just me? Were my eyes playing tricks?
"[Yeah?]" I replied, squinting.
"[That's the main school building, where lessons are held. The central hub. The others? Those are just the dorms.]"
Wait. WHAT?!
"[The dorms?!]" I nearly shouted.
He can't be serious. Those buildings were monumental—cathedrals in their own right. Dorms?!
"[It's true,]" Izel said with that infuriatingly smug smile of his. "[And don't let the blur fool you. The main building is even bigger than it looks.]"
"[Why do the others look blurry now? It wasn't like that before.]"
"[That's a high-level illusion spell. They say the first headmaster made a deal with Melione—Djinn of Ghosts, Nightmares, and Illusions—to cloak the school in protective enchantments.]"
That... was both impressive and unsettling.
"[What about that cathedral-looking building?]" I asked, pointing at the hilltop structure.
"[That's Gracia—the Holy Nation. It's where all Djinns are worshipped. The Pope and the Priestess reside there; rumor has it the Priestess has lived for millennia.]"
"[All the Djinns? Really?]"
"[Yes. Each region serves one. We serve Lady Gelena for Life. Shadowvale follows Lord Asta for Magic. Atlantis, Lord Kurapika for Balance. Alodias venerates Lady Monica for Knowledge. Ivor follows Lord Evrin for Time. But Gracia serves all of them—it's the spiritual bridge to their realm.]"
I tilted my head slightly and glanced at Eris, curious.
Why wasn't there a land devoted to her?
She met my gaze without turning her head—reading my mind, apparently—and answered nonchalantly:
"[I'm already being worshipped. Every time mortals commit evil.]"
I raised an eyebrow. "[Tell me the real reason.]"
She shifted uncomfortably, clearly not expecting the pushback. With a reluctant sigh, she admitted,
"[Fine. I just found it a pain to have a temple built for me.]"
Figures.
"[As for Aria,]" she added, "[she prefers freedom. A temple would only trap her.]"
I leaned back, thoughtful.
"[Hey Eris... why do you call yourselves Djinns and not gods?]"
She paused her game, just long enough for me to hear a distant "VICTORY" from her screen. Then she slowly looked up at me.
And laughed.
It wasn't mocking or playful. It was real—raw, from deep inside. And that scared me more than anything. I'd only heard her laugh like that once before.
"[I'll answer that another time,]" she said, her voice softer, her eyes distant and ancient. She smiled to herself, then floated away into the sky just as the carriage man knocked to signal our arrival.
Dad stepped out first, then helped Mom down. I jumped out, legs tingling from the long ride. Izel followed, closing the door behind him.
I stretched, wincing at the stiffness in my back.
"[Finally…!]"
"[See you later,]" Eris called, flying toward Gracia without looking back.
"[Sure,]" I replied, letting my eyes linger on the row of majestic statues lining the walkway—each representing one of the Seven Djinns, silent and watchful.
Let's get this over with, I thought as we started walking.
And get me back to my comfort zone.