Here she sat in layered black robes inside a sentient castle on a multiversal ley nexus discussing my academic failures while storms literally responded to the emotional atmosphere of the realm.
Normal.
Totally normal.
“I just…” I exhaled shakily. “I need to find something that resonates with me.”
The words sounded desperate.
Because they were.
My sisters had all found their callings easily.
Potion sciences. Political magic. Divination. Ritual leadership. Celestial weaving.
Meanwhile I bounced from class to class like a lost ghost hoping something would finally click.
“I understand,” Professor Kenna said softly.
And gods, somehow that almost made me cry.
Because she sounded like she actually meant it.
The older Witch leaned back slightly in her chair.
“However,” she continued, “I wonder if you fully understand that students at Runevald share more than simply academic space with the Monsters here.”
I blinked.
“What do you mean?”
Then another thought struck me.
“And honestly, Professor… is Monsters even politically correct?”
Silence.
Professor Kenna stared at me for exactly three seconds before a sharp laugh escaped her unexpectedly.
Not polite amusement either.
An actual laugh.
“You,” she said dryly, “would somehow manage to find offense in the terminology used for an entire multiversal classification of supernatural species.”
Heat flooded my face instantly.
“I didn’t mean?—”
“No,” she interrupted smoothly, still amused. “You meant precisely what you asked.”
I groaned internally.
Fantastic.
I was a social disaster as usual.
“Monsters,” Professor Kenna continued calmly, “is not political, Miss Cordoza. It simply is.”
