The Inheritance of Shadows

Chapter 1

In the kitchen, my mom was already seated at the table with a steaming mug of tea and a book in hand.

"Morning, Mom," I greeted while opening the cupboard for cereal.

She looked up, surprised. "Morning, sweetie. It's only 5:30... What are you doing up?"

I poured milk into a bowl—first, obviously. Then the cereal. People who do the opposite confuse me.

"Wanted to review for the geography test," I said.

Her expression tightened. "Oh? So, you're ready then?"

I hesitated, smiling innocently. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She snatched the book from under my arm, flipped to the page I had marked. "Brazil. Nice place. I went once."

Then she looked at me. "So... What's the capital of Brazil?"

And there it was. My brain scrambled like eggs. I took a leap of faith. "Rio de Janeiro," I answered confidently. Confidence is key, right?

She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Good job," she said, handing it back.

Then, just as I let out a small breath of relief and thought: well, knowing the capital is a good start, isnt it? my mom added with a smirk, "You dont even know the capital"

My smile froze. My brain short-circuited.

"Wait—what?"

She raised her eyebrows and took a sip of her tea. "The capital of Brazil is Brasília, not Rio."

I groaned, leaning my head on the kitchen table. "I knew it. I knew it. I'm going to get a five and be banned from ever celebrating anything again."

"You'll be fine," she said lightly. "But just in case, maybe review something other than the pictures."

Defeated, I grabbed a spoon and started eating my cereal. A few minutes of silence passed—just the occasional crunch of cornflakes and the soft flipping of pages from her book—until I looked up and remembered something.

"Oh, hey, Mom?"

"Hm?"

"You remember that my birthday's on Saturday, right?"

She glanced over the rim of her mug. "Elsa, I literally gave birth to you. I think I remember."

"Okay, okay," I laughed, "just checking. So... would it be okay if I had my friends sleep over? Like always?"

She paused, thinking it over for a second. Then that little smile of hers spread across her face. "Alright. As long as you don't wake up the neighbors like you did last year."

I grinned like I'd just won the lottery. "Promise."

But of course, she wasn't done. "Also... you need to get a 7 in geography."

I dropped my spoon. "Are you serious? That's like—like trying to win The Hunger Games."

"Then may the odds be ever in your favor," she said flatly, going back to her tea.

"Mooom," I whined. "Even Noah barely gets a 7, and Ms. Wilde hates me."

"Elsa! Watch your language. She's your geography teacher."

"Yeah," I muttered, "with a diploma they probably gave her out of pity."

At that point, my brain gave up. Studying felt like punishment now. I stood up and pulled my phone from my hoodie pocket. The screen lit up with a message—Alhena, asking something about a science project I didn't even remember existing.

I stared at it for a second, sighed, and locked my phone without replying. I'll deal with it later. For now, I rinsed my bowl and left it in the sink.

I started heading back to my room when I heard my mom yell from behind me, "ELSA! Don't you dare walk on my carpet with your shoes! I swear, you won't live to see your party on Saturday!"

I jumped—literally jumped—and cleared the carpet with a leap worthy of the Olympics. "Bye, Mom!" I called, waving dramatically before disappearing into my room.

An hour later, I was standing at the bus stop, half-awake, clutching my geography book like it was a lifeline.

When the bus finally arrived, I climbed aboard, walked straight to the back, and sank into one of the seats. I slipped on my earbuds and hit play on my usual playlist. I'm one of those people who can read or study with music—actually, it helps me focus. Like the world just fades away. The same way it does when I'm swimming. It's peaceful.

After about thirty minutes, the bus pulled up in front of school. The front gates of my european high school loomed ahead like the entrance to some kind of medieval prison. Who made me choose this kind of school, anyway? Why didn't I go to the normal one like a normal person?

I was one of the first to arrive. Just a few first-years were huddled by the steps, looking lost. I decided I had studied enough—for my standards, anyway—so I sat down on one of the benches and started watching some Tiktok videos on my phone.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before someone shoved me forward from behind, nearly sending my phone flying. I turned around, ready to cuss out whoever it was—and of course, it was him.

"Noah!" I yelled, loud enough to turn a few heads. "You nearly shaved ten years off my life!"

He laughed, and that was enough to make me laugh too. I know, it didn't make sense. But honestly, not much in my life does.

Noah has been my best friend since middle school. I don't know how I've tolerated him for five (or were they six) years, but somehow I did. We're in different classes now—I'm in 2A, he's in 2C—but our classrooms are right across the hall from each other, and I guess I'll take what I can get.

He's a bit taller than me, athletic, with brown hair and matching eyes. Not bad-looking, honestly. Back in middle school he looked like a plucked baby chick, but now? The first-year girls swarm around him like geese in heat. It's honestly embarrassing to witness.

"Since you're already here," I said, narrowing my eyes at him, "help me study for geography? Pleeease?"

He groaned, then rolled his eyes. "Fine. Move over."

I scooted aside to make room, and just like that, my morning study session had a partner.

A few minutes later, the others started to show up. First came Luke, tall and lean, like one of those American football players from high school musicals, just without all the muscles. His black curls always fell messily over his forehead, making his icy blue eyes stand out even more. Some people said they looked like the sky; I thought they looked more like frozen lakes.

He had a pale complexion, sprinkled with freckles across his nose and cheeks, more visible in summer, and he played on the school basketball team. He and Noah hit it off immediately, like they'd known each other their whole lives. Not the case with Ellery, though.

Ellery, Elly, is the quiet one. Shy, reserved, but somehow the one who always stands out in a crowd. Her ash blond hair and glowing hazel eyes make her look like she came straight out of some Canadian forest. I've always wondered if she had roots up there or something. She's in a different class from us, with Alhena.

And of course, Alhena was the last to arrive. Like always.

She's my best friend, and we were in the same class as Noah during middle school. People used to think we were sisters. I never saw it, we don't look much alike, but we used to pretend we were cousins just to mess with people.

She has long light brown hair, very pale skin, and emerald green eyes. Her face is covered in freckles, across her nose, her cheeks, and I envy every single one. She's in Noah's class now. That part, I don't envy.

And just like that, our chaotic little group was complete. The day could officially begin.