Cary sat in the headmaster's office silently, staring down at the ring on her finger. In all the excitement of the past day, she had forgotten that she still wore it. It was such a small thing, something easily missed. And yet, it seemed to have ruined her entire life.

The headmaster had sat with them for a few minutes, discussing some things about the school and why they were there. The secrets that they would need to keep while they were there, even from their own families. Cary didn't pay much attention to any of it, still scared that he was a witch. That he was just lying to her. Trying to trick her into joining him.

If the clock against the wall in front of her was to be believed, it was well past when she should have been home for dinner. She could picture her grandparents worried sick at home, wondering where she could have gone to. Wondering if they'd ever see her again. She was wondering the same as she waited.

There was a line of chairs against the far wall, facing a familiar looking desk that blocked off the other half of the office, with a small section open to allow them past to the back. The room had the familiar feel of a school admin office to it, reminding Cary of that one time that she was called into the principal's office back at her old school. As she sat there, waiting for whatever was about to come next, she couldn't help but feel like she was in trouble somehow. That she had done something wrong and was just waiting for her punishment.

But if she had done something wrong, David sure didn't. It felt wrong in so many ways for him to be sitting right next to her. Not that she didn't want him there, but that she felt like she had ruined his life somehow. That the mess she had caused not only ruined her own life, but his as well.

She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was smiling broadly as he looked all around the office, like he was enjoying every minute of being in there. Of being wherever they were. Cary tried to see what he was seeing, her own eyes following his. But all she saw was trouble. A message board against the wall, announcing upcoming school events. Cubbies for mail for the professors, though Cary had a feeling that it wasn't delivered by normal postmen. Doors all around the room, leading to several offices off the main room and taking up most of the wall space. With no windows to the room, it was lit by the strangest objects that Cary had ever seen. These were the only things in that office that looked in any way magical.

On first examination, Cary thought that they looked like torches. Rods about a foot and a half long, attached to the wall in sconces. But instead of being made of wood, like normal torches, they were made of metal. Their lit ends threw light around the room, but when Cary looked at them, they didn't look like fire. Instead, it was multi-colored sparks firing off in all directions, with the sparks staying in place around the ends of the rods, or burning out as they fell past them.

"Cary?" came a soft, lilting voice from the corner of the room. Cary looked all over, searching for the source, only to spot a woman standing near one of the doors. The woman was only slightly taller than Cary was, with long blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses. "You can follow me through here," she said, ticking her head behind her.

Cary looked between the woman and David for a moment, hesitant to leave her seat. Hesitant to leave David alone in there. He smiled over at her, though, his hand patting hers reassuringly. "I'll be fine," David said. "I'm having the most amazing time. I just hope they don't send me home."

"Ha," Cary scoffed. "I want them to send me home." Cary just shook her head for a moment before reluctantly following the woman back through the door over there.

The woman led the way down a hall, stretching further into the building than just the headmaster's office. Cary looked behind her, back the way she had come, expecting the hall to stretch all the way back to the main entry room of the building. But the hall stopped just past the door that led to it. The place already felt like a maze to her, and it was only one of the several buildings that she had already seen around the campus.

"Just in here," the woman said, as she ducked into the third door on the left.

Cary walked through after her, coming to a much smaller office than she was expecting. There was a metal teacher's desk taking up much of the space, with a large executive chair behind it, and a much smaller seat in front of it. Other than that, there was a metal filing cabinet in the corner, and not much else. Not even room to breath. Cary took the smaller seat as the woman made her way around her desk.

"My name is Ms. Scott," she said. "I'll be your guidance counselor for your time here. It says here that you're coming to us from the human realm."

She pointed to a folder that was open on her desk. Cary looked at the folder, which was already filled with a thin stack of papers. All that she could make out of what was on the top form was her name. The rest was in a weird language that she had never seen before, different even from what she had seen on the sign outside.

"So, let's put a few things out of the way before we get started," Ms. Scott said. "First off, yes, I'm an elf. If you have a problem with elves, I–"

"Wait, what?" Cary asked. She looked up at the woman in complete confusion. Cary hadn't heard much about elves in general, other than the ones that worked for Santa. Given where she was, and the talk of magic, she wouldn't be too surprised to run into one of those. But Ms. Scott didn't seem like the type.

"If you have a problem with elves, I can arrange for another guidance counselor to take you," Ms. Scott said. "But I'm afraid I'm the only one on call tonight."

"No, I... It's fine," Cary said, shaking her head. "It's all just... I mean..."

"It's a bit overwhelming, I'm sure," she said, smiling over at her. "I've dealt with several new students from the non-magical realms, ones that had no idea about the realms. It's an adjustment for all of them, but most manage to adjust to their new setting."

"And if I can't?" Cary asked, worried that she would fall in with the exceptions.

"We can address that in our next session, next week," Ms. Scott said. "We can meet on next Saturday, if you wouldn't mind. Birthdays in this place can be a bit difficult, especially the tenth birthdays."

Cary looked back at the papers in front of Ms. Scott, surprised that she somehow knew that her birthday was a week from Saturday. Just how much had they been able to find out about her in the few hours since she had come through the portal? Or were they watching her all along, just waiting for their chance to get their hands on her?

"Sure," Cary said, but the word never left her mouth.

"In the meantime, this is your class schedule," she said, as she handed Cary a piece of paper.

The paper was half the size of a normal sheet of paper, and thinner than she was expecting. It felt like a normal printout, an echo of her class schedule that she had gotten not three weeks prior for her old school. The only difference was that this one was obviously handwritten, with long, swooping lettering filling in the printed form.

Cary just stared at her schedule for a moment, looking at each of the classes that she was expected to take. The classes that she would need to attend the next day. They all seemed innocent enough, familiar to what she was doing before. There were no classes about Satan, or souls. Nothing about learning magic, either. All in all, the schedule looked rather tame, and not too far off what she was already taking back home.

"This is it?" Cary asked. Her spirits lifted a bit as she started to hope that this school wouldn't be so bad. That it wouldn't damn her to hell.

"What were you expecting?" Ms. Scott asked, laughing a little. "Introduction to Potions? Enchantments 101? Divination Class? Cary, you're only starting to come into your powers. We start you off easy here. Not to mention the fact that not all sorcerers take magical professions. You'll need to learn the basics, just like all fifth graders. But don't worry. Most of the classes take magic in mind. Your history class teaches the history of the realms. Your home ec class focuses on cooking, following a recipe. That's important when you start potions next year. Your art class is the start of your magical training, starting you off on illusions. They're the safest magic that you can practice, if not the easiest. If you do well in that, you'll end up in more advanced classes in the Spring semester. But for Fall, this is your schedule. Changes are only made upon teacher requests, which don't happen often."

"Oh," Cary said, simply.

She wasn't sure how she felt about illusions. The word reminded her of magicians back home. People that her grandparents had no patience for. Her grandfather had straight out called them frauds and charlatans, condemned to hell just as much as those that sold their soul for actual power. Actual magic. Despite everything that Headmaster Sparks had said, she still worried that they were just tricking her. That she'd be asked to sign her name in the devil's book soon enough. She kept watching for inkwells of blood, but she hadn't signed anything yet. In ink or blood.

"And it says here that you're Christian," Ms. Scott said, pointing to another spot on the papers in front of her. Cary looked to that spot, but she couldn't make the weird, curly lettering form the word Christian. "Services are on Sundays at ten, right after Catholics and before Episcopalians. There are three chapels on campus, but I'm sure you'll be able to figure out which is yours." She smiled over at her when she said that, as if it was some kind of inside joke that only she understood. "You're welcome to attend any service you wish, as long as you don't disrupt them or try to convert anyone to Christianity. New students often find it educational to see those other religions, especially for the other races. I myself worship the elven goddess Alun, in the forest glen behind the chapels. There are several elves in your class who would be happy to sing of her glory, if you'd wish to hear about her."

"Does anyone..." Cary started to ask. But she lost her nerve before she could get the full question out. Instead, she just looked down at her hands, afraid of the answer. Afraid that she would be punished just for asking the question.

"There are a few students who worship Satan, yes," Ms. Scott said. There was a level of disgust in her voice that made it clear her feelings on the matter. Cary couldn't help but smile at that, at the feeling like they were on the same page for once. "They do not have a chapel. They do not have recognized services. And their practices are generally discouraged. However, much as your United States, the Unified Alliance of the Magical Realm provides the freedom of religion to all within its borders. But if anyone asks you to join their coven, or asks you to sign your name in blood, of any origin, or anything that you aren't comfortable with, you immediately come to me. Understood? Even if it's a teacher. We don't take kindly to Satanists in this school. You'll learn the significance of that in your history class next month. It's a rather... disconcerting lesson, but one that must be taught. Early, and often, I'm afraid. However, in the meantime, if you have any questions, I hope you feel comfortable enough to come to me with them.”

"Um... " Cary said. She sat there for a moment, looking between Ms. Scott and the schedule in her hands. Despite how scared she felt around the headmaster, worried that he was a witch, that all of them were witches, she somehow felt more comfortable around Ms. Scott. It was almost like her being an elf, being different from everyone she had met before, excused being near the magic that she found herself trapped near. And as she looked at the woman, her warm smile felt genuine to her. Safe, even. "Sure," Cary said.

"Lovely," Ms. Scott said. "Now, usually, we issue sorcerer rings to new students. It's part of the cost of coming to this school, as they are important to your training. To learning to control the magic already flowing through you."

Ms. Scott pointed towards two rings that were on the corner of her desk, over by her elbow. Cary hadn't noticed them sitting there when she had come into the room. The rings looked remarkably like her own, only they didn't have the same gemstone in them. She found that a bit strange, considering her ring had once been part of a lamp. However, it was no more strange than anything else she had seen since putting it on.

"I see you already have a ring, though," Ms. Scott said. "That's fine as well. Usually, students come here with a ring that belonged to their family, or that they found somewhere. In some cases, I find that the rings find the wearer, not the other way around. As I said, the rings are important, and you'll be learning how to use yours properly in your magic classes over the next few years. It's not just the ring itself that helps you control your magic, though. It's your connection to it. Take a moment to look at your ring now."

Ms. Scott pointed at Cary's ring on her finger, directing her eyes towards it. As Cary stared down at the small, gold band that had completely changed her life, she wondered if getting rid of it would help anything. If the ring was supposed to help her control magic, would not having it any more mean that she could go home? But with the two rings sitting on the desk next to Ms. Scott, Cary already knew the answer to that. She knew that if she got rid of this ring, they would only give her another.

As she stared down at the ring on her finger, feeling the metal against her skin, she could somehow sense exactly what Ms. Scott was talking about. A connection to the ring itself that she couldn't quite explain. Cary could have just as easily taken the ring off the day before, or at any point that day. If she had, she wouldn't have been there. But she hadn't done that. What was worse was the fact that Cary had no idea why she hadn't. She wasn't one to wear jewelry, and had her grandfather seen it, he would have ordered her to take it off. Had she been more familiar with the workings of magic, she might have thought that the ring had somehow hidden from her grandfather, from her even, in an attempt to stay with her.

After a few moments of her just staring down at the ring, the air seemed to distort around it. It came off the ring in waves, much like the portal on the post office wall had. Only it was through the air and along her skin. Shocked by this sight, Cary closed her eyes and shook her head. When she looked back, the waves were gone, and the ring looked normal again. Just a normal band of gold, which fit perfectly on her little finger.

"Don't worry if you don't feel connected to the ring just yet," Ms. Scott said, reclaiming Cary's attention. "It doesn't come easily for everyone. The more you use the ring, and your magic, the more you'll feel connected to it. In the meantime, do you have any other questions that I can answer?"

"Um... I don't think so," Cary said. She looked back at her schedule in her hands, trying to see if she was missing anything. The sheet not only showed her which subjects the classes were, but the teacher's name, the building number, and the room number. It also told her the dorm room that she would be in, up by where her locker number and combination had been on her old schedule. The only thing she was lacking was a map telling her where each of the buildings were.

"There's a map on the other side," she said, seeming to read her mind. "I'd suggest you take some time to figure out where all your classes are, but dinner already started in the mead hall. And you'd probably want to settle in to your room afterwards. Unfortunately, as I said before, I'm the only guidance counselor on call this evening, and I'll need to go through all of this with David as well."

"Right," Cary said, nodding.

She quickly flipped the schedule over, looking at the map. Lines were marked all over the map, not only showing her the campus itself, but how to get between each of her classes, including how to get from Ms. Scott's office to the Mead Hall. The lines were all jumbled together, though, making it difficult to read it. But as she continued to stare at it, the lines seemed to flow around the page, moving along in the direction that she would need to take it.

"There's... There's no alcohol in the mead hall, is there?" she asked, worried that she was already drunk somehow.

Ms. Scott just laughed at the thought, smiling at Cary as she left the room.