Lyra's POV
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
I stood backstage at the Grand Exhibition Hall, clutching my presentation notes so hard the paper crinkled. Through the curtain, I could hear the crowd—hundreds of people waiting to see what students like me had spent three years creating. Important people. Rich people. People who could give me a real job after graduation.
"You've got this, Lyra," I whispered to myself. "Three years of work. This is your moment."
My research on ancient artifacts could change everything. I'd figured out how to wake up old magical objects that everyone thought were dead forever. No one else had done that before. Not even the smart kids with powerful magic.
Me. The charity scholarship girl with barely any magic at all.
I peeked through the curtain at the audience. There—fifth row, wearing his blue Academy jacket—sat Dorian Thornwood. My heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did when I saw him. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and when he laughed at something his friend said, I felt it in my chest.
For two years, I'd watched him from far away, too scared to talk to him. But lately, things had changed. He'd started sitting near me in the library. Bringing me coffee when I stayed up late studying. Last week, he'd even said my research was "really impressive."
Maybe after tonight, when everyone saw what I could do, I'd finally be brave enough to tell him how I felt.
"Lyra Ashford?" A voice called from the stage entrance. "You're up in two minutes."
Two minutes. I could do this.
I smoothed down my Academy uniform and grabbed my artifact prototype—a small crystal sphere that glowed faintly in my palm. This little thing was going to prove that weak magic didn't mean weak mind. That someone like me belonged here.
The student ahead of me finished presenting. Applause filled the hall. My stomach twisted into knots.
"And now," the announcer's voice boomed, "presenting groundbreaking research on ancient artifact activation—"
I stepped toward the stage entrance, ready to walk out.
"—please welcome Cassia Thornwood!"
My brain went fuzzy. That was my name he was supposed to say. My research. My—
I pushed through the curtain anyway, and my whole world stopped.
Cassia stood center stage under the bright lights, her blonde hair shining like gold. Behind her, massive magical projections showed MY diagrams. MY research notes. MY theories about artifact activation. Even the crystal prototype in her hand looked exactly like mine.
"No," I breathed.
Cassia's eyes found me in the wings. She smiled. Not a friendly smile—a victory smile.
"For three years," she said sweetly to the audience, "I've dedicated myself to understanding lost magical artifacts. Tonight, I'll show you how to bring ancient magic back to life."
Those were my words. I'd written them in my journal just last week. Cassia and I had been study partners. Best friends. I'd shown her everything, asked for her opinion, trusted her with my research because she said she wanted to help.
My legs moved before my brain caught up. I stumbled onto the stage, my voice cracking. "That's—that's my research! She stole it!"
The audience gasped. Hundreds of faces turned to stare at me.
Cassia's expression shifted to perfect shock and hurt. "Lyra? What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" My voice got louder. "Those diagrams, that prototype, the theory about lunar resonance patterns—I developed all of it! You stole my work!"
"Security," Headmaster Graves stood up in the front row, his face stern. "Remove Miss Ashford from the stage."
"No, wait—please!" I turned to the audience desperately. "I can prove it! My notes, my lab reports, I have everything documented—"
"Actually," Cassia interrupted softly, pulling papers from her pocket, "I have documentation too. These emails show that Lyra asked to study MY research six months ago. And these lab sign-in sheets prove I was working on this project long before she claims."
She held up the papers. They looked official. Real. But they couldn't be—I'd never sent those emails. I'd never—
"There's even testimony," Cassia continued, her voice sad and disappointed, "from multiple witnesses who saw Lyra going through my private notes."
The crowd began murmuring. Angry voices mixed together.
"Fraud."
"Cheater."
"She seemed so nice."
Two security guards grabbed my arms. I tried to pull away, scanning the audience frantically. "Dorian!" I spotted him in his seat. "Tell them! You know I wouldn't—"
But Dorian wasn't looking at me. He stared down at his hands, his jaw tight, refusing to meet my eyes.
Something inside my chest cracked and shattered.
"Please," I whispered as security dragged me backward. "Please, someone believe me."
No one did.
They pulled me through the backstage area, through the halls, all the way to the Headmaster's office. Students pointed and whispered as I passed. Some looked shocked. Others looked satisfied, like they'd always known the charity girl didn't really belong.
In Headmaster Graves's office, everything happened fast. Too fast. My scholarship—revoked. My lab access—removed. Investigation pending. Possible expulsion.
"Pack your things," Headmaster Graves said coldly. "You have until morning to leave Academy grounds."
I walked back to my dorm in a daze. The hallways felt too bright, too loud. My roommate Nova rushed toward me, her eyes wide.
"Lyra! I heard what happened at the Exhibition. Are you—"
"I didn't do it," I said numbly. "Nova, I swear I didn't steal anything."
"I know." Nova grabbed my hands fiercely. "I know you didn't. Cassia's lying. We'll prove it."
But how? When everyone already believed her? When even Dorian had looked away?
That night, I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Cassia's victory smile. Heard the crowd's angry voices. Felt Dorian's rejection like a knife in my heart.
At midnight, I got out of bed. I needed to move, to walk, to do anything but lie there drowning in my thoughts.
I ended up wandering the Academy grounds, my feet carrying me without conscious thought. The night air was cold against my face. Stars blazed overhead, impossibly bright.
My path led me somewhere I'd never been before—the Forbidden Archives. The ancient building stood alone at the edge of campus, its massive doors sealed with magic so powerful that even professors couldn't open them.
I stopped in front of those doors, staring up at the building. My whole life was crumbling. My research stolen. My reputation destroyed. My heart broken.
What did I have left to lose?
I reached out and touched the door.
The seals exploded with light. The doors swung open.
And from deep inside the Archives, something called my name.