The night sky above the kingdom of Westville was shrouded in black, the stars hidden as though even the heavens wished to avert their gaze. Not a whisper of moonlight touched the palace walls. Only silence reigned—an uneasy silence that carried the weight of omen.

But silence was a fragile thing.

From beyond the stone ramparts, shadows slithered inward. Figures cloaked in dark garments scaled the walls, blades gleaming faintly in the torchlight. Mercenaries, assassins, traitors… They moved like phantoms, each step laden with a single purpose.

Tonight was the birth of a coup.

Born from rage against corruption, fueled by greed for power, they came to dethrone the king. They would burn the palace to ash. They would erase the royal bloodline. And in the smoldering ruins, they would build their own rule upon corpses.

Inside, the palace still slept. The noble halls, adorned with chandeliers and golden banners, seemed unaware that death had already stepped across its threshold. But then—

A cry.

The thin wail of a newborn pierced the night. Then another followed, the sound of two infant voices overlapping.

The royal twins had awakened.

The king and queen rushed to their chamber, hearts pounding, only to see what every ruler fears most—flames licking the curtains, smoke trailing through the air, the stench of burning wood already spreading.

The chamber doors flew open with a crash. Sir Elias, captain of the guard, strode in, armor dented and stained crimson. At his side was his younger brother, Johan, breathing heavily, sword dripping blood.

“Your Majesty!” Elias’s voice rang with urgency. “You must leave at once!”

“We’ll hold them as long as we can,” Johan growled, though his trembling hands betrayed the toll of battle. “But the children—get them to safety!”

“No!” The king’s voice thundered in denial. His back was straight, his gaze sharp with pride. “This is nothing but a misunderstanding. It can still be resolved without bloodshed!”

But the queen, still holding her crying children, shook her head. Her hand found his, and though her lips trembled, her voice was steady.

“If you remain, then I shall remain as well. I swore to stand beside you, no matter the end.”

Then, with tears glittering in her eyes, she cradled each infant one last time. She placed the prince into JohAn’s arms, the princess into Elias’s.

“Please,” she whispered, voice breaking, “take them away. Guard them until they come of age. And when that time comes… give them this.”

From her neck, she removed a delicate chain—an heirloom older than the kingdom itself. She pressed it into Elias’s hand, fingers lingering as if reluctant to let go.

The king’s expression hardened. He removed the royal seal from his robes, the very emblem of Westville’s sovereignty. Holding it out with a trembling grip, he spoke heavily, his words carved in sorrow.

“Elias… Johan… If we do not live to see dawn, I entrust you with my children. That is my final order as your king… and my last request as your friend.”

“…Your Majesty…” Elias’s throat tightened. He bowed low, clutching the princess against his chest as though she were his own flesh and blood.

“The hidden passage,” the queen whispered urgently. “Beneath the eastern hall… It will take you to the Whispering Forest. Beyond the walls, you’ll find safety. Go. Now.”

The twins wailed again, voices trembling with a sorrow they could not yet understand. The queen turned away, unable to bear the sight of them leaving. The king wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as the chamber filled with firelight.

Elias and Johan fled into the smoke-choked corridors, the infants in their arms, the seal and heirloom heavy with meaning. Behind them, the palace began to collapse into fire.

Thus, the kingdom of Westville fell in a single night of betrayal and flame.

And yet, from its ashes, two children—unaware of their fate—were carried into the darkness, destined to inherit a legacy written in blood.

Narrator’s Whisper

But this was only the beginning.

The twins would grow in distant lands, their true bloodline hidden. Jealousy would fester among those closest to them. A trusted friend would betray them. And in the shadows of history, something far older and far deadlier was stirring—dragons, once thought to be myths, waiting to decide whether to serve… or to burn.

When the flames rise again, Westville’s forgotten heirs will have to choose: reclaim a throne built on tragedy… or watch the world collapse into ash.

Celestial Magic Academy—or CM Academy, as everyone calls it.

A prestigious institution for the gifted: nobles, prodigies, and genius mages. Its halls have produced three Celestial Mages who now serve as part of the elite forces of the Asgard Empire.

Basically, it’s every mage’s dream to study here.

And here I am, standing before its massive gates with a grin so wide I could probably swallow a bird if it flew into my mouth.

Beside me? My ever-so-perfect siblings.

My older brother, Glazier Ashfallen.

My younger sister, Priscilla Ashfallen.

…Wait.

Hold up. I just introduced my brother and sister, but not myself. How rude of me!

*Ahem.* (smug grin)

I’m LizCiel. Yes, just LizCiel. No fancy titles. No long noble surname. No dramatic origin story.

Why only LizCiel? … Honestly? I don’t know either. That’s just how it’s been since the beginning. Maybe I’m adopted? 🥲

Anyway, unlike my siblings, we’re not nobles. But still—my brother? A genius. My sister? A prodigy. And me? Well… (nervous laugh) Hehehe… yeah, about that—

I. Have. No. Talent. At. All. 😭

You heard me right. None! Zero! Nada!

Why? Because… (deep sigh)… I’m magicless.

Yep. You heard correctly. The one standing in front of the most prestigious magic academy in the empire… can’t even cast a spark.

—end monologue—

We walked down the loooooong stone path leading toward the dorms before freshman orientation at the grand auditorium.

Glazier, as always, was reading while walking. His sharp features made him look like a painting, but his expression was as frozen as ever. If he ever smiled, the heavens would probably tremble.

“Brother, aren’t you being a little too passionate about that book?” I teased, leaning over to peek at the cover. “What is it this time? *Advanced Theory of Mana Flow*? Or maybe *How to Look Like a Walking Statue in Ten Easy Steps*?”

Glazier flicked his cold blue eyes toward me for exactly one second. “…Annoying.” Then he turned back to reading.

I gasped dramatically. “Annoying?! That’s the most words you’ve spoken to me this morning! I’ll treasure them forever, brother dearest.”

He ignored me, of course.

I scooted over to Priscilla, my cute little sister, and tapped her back. “Brace yourself, little sis! This is our big moment. First day at CM Academy! We need to seize the day!”

Priscilla glanced at me shyly, clinging tighter to Glazier’s arm. “G-good for you, Lizzy. I-I’m just nervous…”

“Awww, don’t be nervous.” I pinched her cheek lightly, grinning ear to ear. “With your talent, you’ll probably outshine half the nobles here before lunch.”

Her face flushed pink. “S-stop teasing me, Lizzy…”

(Ohhh, look at her blush—so cute! Hihihi 😍😍😍)

“Are you shy, little sis?” I cooed, covering my mischievous grin with my hand. “Come on, don’t hide behind the human icicle.”

Glazier: “…I heard that.”

Me: “And I regret nothing.”

Before I could tease them more, *bam!* A group of noble ladies brushed past, one of them bumping me hard enough to make me stumble.

“Hmph! Watch where you’re going!” the girl snapped, nose tilted high as if she were smelling something rotten. She gave me a disdainful look from head to toe. “Tsk. This is why I hate peasants.”

Another girl with sharp, narrow eyes smirked. “Look at that ragged bag. Did you three get lost on the way to the servant’s quarters?”

Priscilla flinched, clutching Glazier’s sleeve tighter. My brother barely moved, but his grip on his book tightened ever so slightly.

Me? Oh, I smiled sweetly. (Dangerously sweet, of course.)

“Oh my, forgive me, my lady! Please excuse my rudeness. I didn’t realize so many noble ladies here suffered from… vision problems.” I brushed off my uniform dramatically, bowing with exaggerated grace. “I’ll be sure to be more mindful next time, my lady.”

The first noble girl scoffed, glaring daggers at me. “How dare you—!”

Glazier’s voice cut in, cold and sharp. “Move. You’re blocking the path.”

The girls froze. His tone carried the kind of chill that made even noble daughters hesitate.

One of them huffed and tossed her hair. “Tch. Don’t think you’ll last here, peasant.” Then they swept off, muttering under their breath.

I straightened up, dusted my hands, and grinned at my siblings. “Well, that was fun. Should I bow more dramatically next time? Maybe throw in a curtsy?”

Priscilla shook her head nervously. “L-Lizzy… maybe you shouldn’t provoke them…”

Glazier: “You wasted too many words.”

Me: “You’re both no fun.”

Still, as we continued walking toward the dorms, I couldn’t help feeling a little fire spark inside me. Sure, I was magicless. Sure, nobles looked down on me. But hey—life’s boring without a little chaos, right?

---

The dorm check-in was quick—though honestly, I was too distracted by the sheer size of the campus to care. The courtyard alone could fit ten villages from back home. The fountains? Magical. Literally magical. Water shaped like dragons soared through the air, roaring silently before dissolving into glittering mist.

I gasped, clutching my chest. “Behold! The kingdom of heaven has descended!”

Glazier: “It’s just water.”

Priscilla: “I-it’s pretty though…”

“Pretty?! This is divine craftsmanship!” I twirled dramatically, arms spread wide as the mist sparkled around me. “Ahhh, take me now, Fountain Gods!”

A group of passing students gave me strange looks. One whispered, “Is she… drunk?”

I stuck out my tongue at them. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, my lady!”

Priscilla tugged my sleeve in embarrassment. “L-Lizzy, please stop shouting…”

“Don’t worry, sis. I’m just warming up.”

By the time we reached the grand auditorium for orientation, my jaw had practically hit the floor. The ceilings were so high I was half-convinced clouds would start forming indoors. Floating chandeliers lit the room, each flame dancing in perfect harmony, controlled by invisible enchantments.

Rows upon rows of freshmen filled the seats, most of them dressed in fine noble attire. I swear I could smell the arrogance in the air. It smelled like perfume and entitlement.

“Wow,” I muttered. “So many shiny peacocks in one room. If I trip and fall, at least I’ll take ten of them down with me.”

Glazier gave me his usual expressionless glance. “Don’t.”

“Oh come on, brother. Think of it as… shaking the food chain a little.”

Priscilla giggled softly, covering her mouth. “L-Lizzy, you’re hopeless…”

I plopped into a seat beside them, drumming my fingers on the desk like I owned the place. The nobles around us gave side-eyes, whispering.

“Isn’t that the peasant girl from earlier?”

“She’s with the Ashfallen siblings… strange.”

“They say the brother’s mana reserves rival a noble house heir’s…”

I smirked and leaned toward them, speaking just loud enough. “Oh nooo, don’t talk about me behind my back. I might cry.”

One noble boy coughed and quickly looked away. Victory.

Before I could bask in my triumph, the hall suddenly dimmed. A magical circle flared to life at the center stage, and a booming voice echoed:

“Welcome, freshmen, to Celestial Magic Academy!”

A woman appeared within the glowing circle—a professor, judging by her long robes. Her silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, and her eyes glowed faintly with mana. She raised her staff, and the entire hall shimmered with golden light.

“Woooooowww!” I couldn’t stop myself. “DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

Priscilla: “S-shhh! Lizzy!”

Glazier: “…Embarrassing.”

“I don’t care! That was so cool!” My eyes sparkled, probably brighter than the chandeliers.

The professor’s voice carried authority, silencing the crowd. “You have all been chosen to study within these sacred halls, where talent is honed, and destiny is forged. Whether noble-born or commoner, you will be tested, shaped, and refined. But remember this—power is responsibility. Those who misuse it… will be crushed by it.”

I gulped. Okay… scary.

Still, as the speech went on about discipline, honor, and blah blah responsibility, I couldn’t help but wiggle in my seat, barely containing my excitement. This was it. The start of something big.

Sure, I was magicless. Sure, nobles sneered at me. But—

Magicless or not, LizCiel Ashfallen had officially entered Celestial Magic Academy.

And I was definitely going to make it lively.

---

**First Day at Celestial Magic Academy**

The orientation wrapped up with the professors assigning each student to their classes. The grand auditorium buzzed with chatter as glowing parchments floated down from above like feathers, each one landing neatly into waiting hands.

I caught mine, palms sweaty.

\[ **LizCiel Ashfallen – Special Class** ]

…My jaw nearly hit the marble floor.

—inner thoughts—

Wait. Wait. **WAIT.** Did this paper just say *Special Class*?!

Me?! A magicless nobody?!

This has to be a prank. A clerical error. Someone’s drunk.

…Or blind. Probably blind. 🥲

—end monologue—

I peeked around. Sure enough, nobles all over the hall were sneaking glances at me, their jeweled fans fluttering faster than hummingbird wings.

“Did that say… Ashfallen?”

“The sister of Glazier, the prodigy?”

“And Priscilla, the gifted one?”

“But she’s… the *magicless one.*”

“Impossible. She must’ve cheated.”

I could feel their stares drilling holes into my back. But hey—free spotlight!

So I bowed dramatically, parchment pressed to my chest like it was an award.

“Oh my adoring fans, please, no autographs today.”

A noble boy sputtered into his sleeve. A girl glared at me so hard I thought her eyes might pop out.

And then… *they* showed up.

Francine Darkstar—posture sharp as armor, golden hair braided to perfection, smirk sharp enough to cut glass.

Ophelia Potenlief—wavy hair, alchemist’s sigil glinting at her neck, eyes narrowed like I was a bug under her microscope.

And Nixy Frost—icy-blue hair, aristocratic features that practically screamed *“I’m royalty, bow peasant.”*

The trio strutted toward me like lions cornering prey. Except… little did they know, I wasn’t about to play rabbit. 🐇✖

Francine tilted her chin, her voice dripping disdain. “So it’s true. A *peasant* in the Special Class.”

Ophelia wrinkled her nose. “Disgraceful. The Academy’s standards must be slipping.”

Nixy’s tone was colder than Glazier’s glare on a bad day. “This isn’t a place for common trash. I’ll be speaking to the professors about this… mistake.”

—inner thoughts—

Oh ho ho, ladies… you’ve wandered into the wrong theater.

Time for a *show*.

—end monologue—

I clutched my chest dramatically. “Mistake? Oh nooo, my lady. Didn’t you hear? I’m the Academy’s *special decoration*. You know, like the statue in the courtyard? Except prettier.”

Francine’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You dare mock me—”

“Yes,” I cut in brightly, flashing my widest grin. “And for free too! Normally I’d charge for this kind of entertainment, but since it’s my first day…” I threw them an exaggerated wink.

Ophelia gasped as if I’d splashed acid on her. “Y-you insolent—!”

“Oh please.” I flicked imaginary dust from my sleeve with a sigh. “Save your breath, my lady. You’ll need it to carry that *massive ego* around campus.”

Several nearby students stifled laughs. One boy even coughed into his hand to hide it.

The noble trio’s faces turned redder than roasted tomatoes.

Nixy’s voice snapped like a whip. “You’ll regret those words, peasant.”

I leaned in just slightly, smiling with teeth. “Maybe. But ohhh, what fun it will be.”

They stormed off in a swirl of gowns and braids, swishing like angry peacocks. I waved after them sweetly. “Bye-bye! Don’t trip on your pride!”

Priscilla tugged on my sleeve, eyes wide with worry. “L-Lizzy… you shouldn’t provoke them… they’re all from powerful houses.”

Glazier didn’t even look up from his parchment. “…Trouble.”

“Pfft, trouble is my middle name.” I tossed my hair dramatically. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? …Actually, don’t answer that.”

—inner thoughts—

Okay, maybe I was digging my grave. Maybe I should’ve just smiled and stayed quiet.

But come on. If I’m going to be a magicless peasant stuck in a den of arrogant nobles…

I might as well make it entertaining.

—end monologue—

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