In front of the open iron gate was a woman. She stood tall and straight with her hands behind her back wearing a stern expression. Her hair was pulled back into a bun without a single strand of hair out of place her green eyes scanned the crowd of roughly one hundred and fifty fellow teenagers.

  "Every single one of you passed the entrance exam. From this point on whether you passed by a single point or two hundred won't matter. Where you came from won't matter. Here at the Towers of Nine you'll be stuck with the people around you for the next five years. My name, as those of you who bothered to read the packets we sent will know, is Professor Vivian Hearth. I won't be teaching any of you yet as I teach Elite and Master Spellcraft. I am also Head of Security and Discipline. Meaning I am one of the few who can suspend or expel you on the spot. You do not want to be sent to my office. I do not care for excuses and I do not hesitate. Are we clear?"

  I joined the chorus of, "Yes, Ma'm!"

  "Good. Now all of you follow me. I'm sure you all want to be chosen by your Towers as soon as possible."

  I lingered in the back of the crowd as we walked marched towards the massive stone compound.

  In the days after the entrance exam, I had received maps of the school, along with general information about most of the staff. Between that and Mom's stories, I had a general idea of where most things were in relation to each other. The school had a simple layout, considering it was a castle that the five founders placed a school right on top of.

  Professor Hearth started speaking again as she stepped into the giant doorway which consisted of two massive wooden doors held together by large bands of iron that stood open in silent greeting. "This castle has stood for nearly two thousand years, turning the best and brightest of each generation into the most productive members of magical society. You will be no exception."

  "You think she always acts like she has a stick up her-" a boy with reddish brown hair whispered to me from nearby.

  "Those of you who choose to not take this seriously may turn around and go back out those gates. I will be happy to write the letters to explain to your parents."

  Holy Hecate. Mom worked with this woman? No wonder she never talked about her. There's no way they got along.

  The light chatter that was building silenced.

  Do not mess with Vivian Hearth. Noted.

  I was already dreading the day I would have to take her class. Spellcraft was a vital part of the curriculum here, a core class that had to be taken by all students every year. My heart was pounding and my hands shook. Had this been a mistake?

  No. Relax. That would be years from now. Elite and Master Spellcraft were the fifth year courses. I had more immediate concerns. Like whether my Towermates would hate me.

  "Some of you might be wondering at this point why we call it being 'chosen' by a Tower. When this school was founded and the Towers were built each was enchanted with complex and unique magic. This allows it to know who you really are and it will select students that will thrive within its walls. So, you'd best play nice with your Towermates. After all, being chosen by one of our Towers is an honor and a privilege. One best shared with the other like-minded people whose company you will share.”

  And which one was going to choose me?

  We walked together into a short hallway. It forced us to stand in rough rows of about ten across. Professor Hearth stood in front of another wooden door. This one was closed and had wood carvings of nine creatures a Pixie, a Pegasus, a Salamander, a Slyphid, a Basilisk, a Banshee, a Kraken, a Kelpie, and at the very top was a Dragon. Nine creatures, nine Towers, and a choice I had no say in.

  Part of me was relieved. This was a moment that would affect the next five years and possibly the rest of my life. The idea of choosing on my own was enough to fill me with enough terror to overwhelm any nervousness at having such a pivotal decision be out of my hands.

  "Once you have been chosen, the student representatives of each Tower will take you to your new home so that you may get accommodated and settled in before the Grand Welcoming. Your representatives are to be given respect equal to what you would give a professor. They are here to assist you for this next week before classes begin properly. Now, I will open this door and you will all sit down in an orderly fashion at the tables inside, and your time here at the Towers of Nine can begin." She lifted her right hand to be at an equal level to her ear and snapped loudly. The sound pierced the air and echoed in the halls. A wave of purple energy shot through the air like a harmless shockwave. The doors behind her burst open with a resounding thud.

  It took a few minutes for the dozens of students ahead of us to shuffle into the room.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "Psst…" The boy with the reddish hair from before spoke a whisper in my ear. "What Tower are you hoping for?"

  "Whichever one isn't full of pricks, I think," I whispered back softly. "Does it really matter which one?"

  He laughed quietly, "Yeah, I hear that. My fingers are crossed for Salamander."

  "Good luck," I whispered back.

  The way eventually cleared enough for us to walk in.

  The room was massive, which considering it was built to sit over one thousand students, was to be expected. But I was confused by both the configuration and number of representatives standing in the back.

  Before us were eight massive tables, each with a representative in full uniform standing at attention at the far end of the room. I wasn't shocked that Dragon Tower didn't have a representative. It had been closed for over a century. The door was sealed and unable to be opened by anyone.

  I tried to imagine myself in one of the colors worn by the students standing at attention in the back of the room. I still couldn't see any of them suiting me.

  I sat down at the fifth table from the left, close to the center of the room and away from everyone else. My hands trembled slightly as the others shifted around. Some sitting in groups like old friends. It was loud. Too loud.

  I looked down at the table I was sitting at. I traced the lines of the wood with a finger.

  At least until a girl with silver hair in very intricate princess braids and a pastel pink sweater sat in front of me. Her hands folded themselves neatly on the table. She had grey, almost blue skin and a very disinterested look on her face.

  "My name is Celica Fel'Graces. What's yours?"

  "Serafina Stewart. Nice to meet you," I offered.

  "I haven't heard of the Stewarts. Where are you from?"

  "Massachusetts." I gave her my best friendly smile. "We tend to keep to ourselves."

  She tilted her head at me and narrowed her eyes. "Nice shirt," she said curtly. Was she mad at me? Did I say something wrong?

  I shrugged. "Thanks. Nice sweater?" I tried. Could I sound more awkward?

  She frowned. "I don't suppose you mind if I sit here while we get chosen by our Towers?"

  I shook my head, "Not at all. I wasn't saving the seat for anybody or anything. And I can't tell you where to sit."

  Her frown vanished at least, but her face went back to cold disinterest.

  A part of me prayed I didn't end up in her Tower.

  A few awkward moments passed until the last student was sitting down. There was a loud whistling noise from somewhere behind me. I nearly jumped at the sound. In a puff of green smoke a blank sheet of paper and a white quill had appeared in front of every student.

  I fiddled with mine a little while Celica Fel'Graces set hers down neatly next to the paper.

  Please tell me I don't somehow have a mortal enemy before going to my first class. I don't need the stress.

  I looked down at the paper, which was still completely blank until Professor Vivian Hearth's voice came from the door.

  "In a moment, instructions will appear on the paper in front of you. Follow them carefully and answer each question honestly. Nothing you put down will affect your test scores or grades. The only thing we are learning is which Tower you will belong to. Do not stress. In truth these won't even be read by anyone. Begin."

  Ink filled the paper. The swirling mess of letters and shapes gave me a bit of a headache to look at. Luckily, it settled down. The top of the page read:

  Look closely at the shape below, tell us what you see.

  It was an inkblot test. Okay. In truth I didn't see much of anything; the messy blob of ink just looked like someone dropped a half-full inkwell onto it.

  There was a line at the bottom for my answer.

  I stared at the inky, asymmetrical mess on the page. My mind tried to make it conjure something. Anything. Nothing came to mind. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them I still saw a black smudge on a piece of paper. But if these weren't going to be read by anyone anyway… I wrote 'Ink Mess' on the line.

  Well, the magic personality test seemed to think it was an acceptable answer.

  The page re-arranged itself again. I closed my eyes to fend off the headache this thing was giving me. I opened them to find four multiple choice questions.

  The first: Which class are you most looking forward to?

  The options were:

  A: Alchemy

  B: Brewing

  C: Spellcraft

  D: Monster Husbandry

  I grinned to myself as I circled Alchemy, remembering my father laughing when I told I would be taking it. It was the closest I would ever get to being able to take a Chemistry class, like the ones he taught for the university.

  The second: Which class are you least looking forward to?

  The options repeated themselves in the same order.

  I sighed and chose to be honest. Those were the instructions. I circled Spellcraft with a cringe. That class was going to be my biggest hurtle here. But maybe, just maybe, I would finally be able to cast spells.

  The third: Which Founder do you relate to the most?

  The options:

  A: Malcarg the Tyrant

  B: Felorias the Merciful

  C: Delc the Wild One

  D: Colferna the Honest

  E: Jantres the Feared

  I bit my lip and thought about it. I knew the basic histories of the founders. My mother had worked here after al,l and of course she talked about this place most of my childhood. But as far as relating, I could only choose one. I circled Jantres the Feared.

  How could I not? He was the only one who also had one human parent and one magical one. The son of a wizard and his human bride, who vowed revenge on the world after a lynch mob tore his family apart at a young age. Eventually he’d chosen to assist in building a school on the promise that any child, no matter the origin, should they be worthy, could learn magic.

  It was likely the main reason I was even sitting here.

  The last question: Which is your favorite color?

  A: Pink

  B: Blue

  C: Orange

  D: Yellow

  E: Brown

  F: White

  G: Purple

  H: Green

  I: Red

  Seriously? They were asking us which of the Tower colors was our favorites? I shrugged again. I tapped the tip of the quill on the page a few times and settled on circling Green.

  I glanced up at the representative wearing the green uniform of the Kelpie Tower, I couldn't see myself in it. But it was infinitely better than the garish abomination that was the shade of pink for Pixie Tower. I'd rather gouge my eyes out.

  The page scrambled and changed itself again. The headache was worse sharp and unpleasant, but faded quickly once the new task settled in.

  In one sentence, tell us your name and reason for attending this school.

  The rest of the page was blank.

  I let out a deep sigh. And started writing.

  My name is Serafina Holly Stewart and I chose to attend this school to learn how to be a witch.

  The page went blank for several very long seconds. I set the quill down nervously and my hands shook again.

  "Now we wait," I spoke under my breath to myself. I closed my eyes again and counted to ten in my head. I opened them again when I was done.

  The page, which up until then had used plain black ink, was filled with color.

  Nine symbols, each creature in its color in full display looking back at me. I tried to discern how I was supposed to know which had chosen me. Then they started to shift and move around on the page.

  One then moved to the center. The others encircled it but gave it room as it grew. The red quickly dominated the page, and I smiled a little. The creature in the center moved as if to roar in approval.

  My Tower was Dragon.