Amelia Reyes and the Scroll

Amelia had always gone to Platform 13 when everything felt like too much — the noise, the shouting, the pretending to smile. The world was loud, and she liked quiet.

But today, she was running — toward the platform, the only place she thought she could hide from the man who had been following her since noon. She thought she was hallucinating until she saw the man again — trailing her from school to the marketplace, and eventually all the way home.

She ran onto the platform and climbed two steps at a time. Then she saw it — a train, rusty and abandoned.

She whispered to herself, “Where did it come from? It was never here!”

She turned around to check if the man was still following her- and he was. She heard his footsteps. But she could also hear whispers and murmurs coming from the train. At first, she thought it might be haunted. But she had to protect herself from the man who was after her. With no other thought she climbed onto the rusted train.

As soon as she stepped inside the door , everything changed. Beautiful lanterns of different colors were hanging from the roof of the train. Kids her age or older were all chattering but no one seemed to notice her. Suddenly, she saw a shadow emerging from behind- it was the man. She thought of screaming but before she could, the man spoke. His voice calm and polite, “I’m not here to hurt you, Amelia.”

“How does he know my name!?” she thought.

He pointed toward an empty coach to her right. She hesitated but followed him there. She sat in front of him, and before she could say anything, he glanced at her- and then at the water bottle . The water bottle floated up in the air.

Amelia’s jaw dropped, “Magic!” she whispered.

The glanced at the bottle and it floated back into place.

“Yes, it’s magic. And this… is where you belong, Amelia. Now, let’s get off– the train is about to start,” he said.

They both got off the train and he added, “Lets go to your home now.”

She thought that it’s all a joke. Maybe he was just a janitor here, trying to take her home and complain to her parents that she’d been coming to this abandoned platform for a year. But still, he insisted on going to her house.

After ten minutes of walking, they finally reached her house. The man spoke, “Let me talk first.”

Amelia nodded. And before she could the doorknob to open the door, it already twisted, she looked at the man, but he shook his head. Her mother opened the door and said, “Where have you be- who’s this?”

“I don’t know!” she said and ran to her mother.

Her father appeared next, brow furrowed, jaw tight. “Who’s this?”

Amelia swallowed. “He followed me. But not like that. He… I mean, he’s not dangerous.”

Her father looked at her with a funny expression, “What have you done?”

Amelia shook her head.

The man gave a small bow. “My name is Colin Astor. I need to speak with you. All of you.”

Her parents looked at each other and nodded. The man- Colin- then stepped inside the house.

They all sat in the living room, Colin remained standing, but her father waved his hand, asking him to sit down.

Then he began.

“Amelia is not who you think she is. Or rather — she is, but there’s more.”

Her father folded his arms. “You’re not making sense.”

Colin nodded. “No. Not yet. But I will.”

He reached into his coat — not for a weapon, but something long and wooden, polished and strange. A wand.

“Magic,” Colin said calmly. “Not fantasy. Not stories. Real. And your daughter has it.”

Her father laughed — short and sharp. “This is a joke.”

“I thought the same,” Amelia whispered. “Until a bottle floated in front of me.”

Colin turned to her. “You were never supposed to find the train yet. But magic has a habit of showing up when it’s needed.”

He faced her parents again. “Amelia has always been… different, hasn’t she? Odd things happening around her? Lights flickering? Wind that moves when it shouldn’t? Dreams she can’t explain?”

Her parents didn’t answer, but Amelia saw it in their faces. They had noticed. They just never understood.

“There’s a world beyond this one,” Colin said. “Hidden. Protected. And it’s time Amelia stepped into it.”

Her parents were shocked, her mother said, “You’re going to take her with you? She’ll never come back?”

Colin shook his head and continued, “No, that’s not true. She’ll come back during summer holidays, winter holidays, and in times of emergency.”

Both of her parents couldn’t believe it. Her father asked, “But she’s just ten. She can’t live alone.”

Colin replied with a small smile, “No, I’m not going to take her now. I’ll take her when she’s 11 and that’s … after 9 days. Am I right, Amelia?”

She nodded.

Colin said, “Now there’s a lot to shop. Shall we go?” he asked her parents.

They were shocked but still believed it- and agreed.

Colin took out letter and handed it to Amelia.

Inside, it was written-

To Miss Reyes,

This is to inform you that you have been selected at Moonstead school of Anomalies for first year. Below is the list of necessary requirements and books for your year.

The term begins on 1st September. Please check everything and confirm us through a letter.

Headmistress

Lyra Estrelle

Amelia asked Colin, “Where’s the list?”

“It’s with me, I’ll show it to your parents. And-“ he said turning to her parents, “I’ll take her to the shop tomorrow, not today. You’ve already had enough for today. But if you don’t mind, can I take her to the park near your house? Just so she can ask any questions if she’s shy. Just asking!”

Her parents took the list and glanced at each other before saying, “Yes, but please keep her safe and get her home in an hour. I think that’ll be enough.”

Colin nodded and took Amelia to the park.

She was sitting on a swing and Colin was silent beside her, giving her the time she needed to process. But finally, she asked the question that had been sitting on her tongue since the train.

“So what am I?”

Colin looked over, his expression calm, but there was something heavy in his eyes. He pulled something from his coat pocket — a small brass compass, spinning wildly under no sky.

“In the magical world,” he said, “You’re called an Anomaly.”

She frowned. “That sounds… wrong. Like I don’t belong there.”

Colin smiled and shook his head. “That’s what some people think it means. But they’re wrong. Do you know what an anomaly really is?” He held up the compass. “It’s when something appears where it’s not supposed to exist — but it does anyway. It’s not a mistake. It’s a sign. A crack in the ordinary world, letting the extraordinary through.”

Amelia stared. “So… I’m the crack?”

“No,” he said gently. “You’re the light that came through it.”

She blinked, and for a moment, didn’t speak.

“You weren’t born into magic. You weren’t trained, taught, or expected. But magic found you. You made it real just by existing. That’s what an Anomaly is. Someone the world didn’t prepare for — but needed.”

She was still quite unsure but happy too. Amelia sat back, wind brushing strands of hair across her face. “Are there others?”

“Not many. Most magical children are born into it. Families with history. Legacy. Bloodlines. But you? You broke every rule just by being here. And that scares people. It also makes you powerful.”

She looked at him sharply. “But I don’t feel powerful.”

Colin chuckled. “Most people don’t when they’re standing on the edge of something big. But you are.”

He stood slowly and looked down at her.

“Moonstead isn’t just a school. It’s a sanctuary for those with magic in their bones and it has houses in which you’re sorted into. You’ll learn everything there — spells, history, how to use your magic without tearing holes in the universe—”

“Excuse me?” she said.

He laughed. “Joking. Mostly.”

Then he grew quiet. “The point is… magic chose you. That’s rare. And dangerous. You’re an Anomaly, Amelia Reyes. And the world’s about to find out what that means.”

Amelia narrowed her eyes. “You were following me.”

Colin raised his eyebrows. “That’s a dramatic way of putting it. I was assigned to you.”

“Assigned?” she echoed, arms crossed.

He chuckled. “We don’t leave Anomalies to figure things out on their own — especially those born outside the magical world. Every year, a few children like you are born into non-magical families. We call them–” He paused. “Well, our word for it is a bit old-fashioned, but I’ll explain all that soon.”

He continued, “My job was to monitor you from a distance — make sure your powers didn’t spark too early, protect you if they did, and be there when the time came... to guide you to Moonstead. You just got there… a little ahead of schedule.”

Amelia looked down at her hands. “So I wasn’t crazy. I was being watched.”

Colin gave her a small smile. “Watched, protected… and maybe… just a little impressed.”

He offered his hand. She stared at it for a moment- then took it.

The Next day

Colin arrived early the next morning. They left the house quietly and made there way towards the town. He lead her to a narrow alley beside an old bookstore. Then, with a flick of his wand and a quiet incantation, the bricks shifted and twisted open. A beautifully decorated alley appeared beyond. Amelia opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find any words.

They stepped into the alley, and Amelia’s eyes widened. Children her age were laughing, shopping and weaving between colorful stalls. The air buzzed with magic.

Colin muttered, “I thought it wouldn’t be this crowded so early. Do you want to ask something?” he said while looking at Amelia.

She looked up. “You said there are… Houses?”

Colin nodded. “Four of them. Each one old. Each one different. They don’t define you, but they reflect what’s inside you — the piece of you that burns brightest.”

As they turned a corner, the cobblestones beneath their feet began to glow. Four images flashed in quick succession.

Pyraelis – House of Flame and Will

“For the brave, the headstrong, the ones who rise through fire. Pyraelis students are the first into danger — and often the last ones out. They don’t break. They blaze.”

A phoenix with golden wings rose from the stones, letting out a low, echoing cry before vanishing.

Dreverin – House of Shadows and Ascent

“For the ambitious. The tacticians. The ones who see the board while everyone else is still playing checkers. Dreverin doesn’t chase power — it learns how to bend it.”

A black jackal stalked forward, eyes glinting silver, before melting into smoke.

Noctare – House of Insight and Vision

“For the watchful, the wise. The quiet ones who are always listening. Noctare knows that truth is often buried in silence — and they are not afraid to dig.”

A silver-eyed owl took flight in the glow of starlight, wings folding as it vanished.

Ravelle – House of Emotion and Expression

“For the creators. The dreamers. The ones whose feelings shape magic like clay. Ravelle is unpredictable — but never forgettable.”

A wolf under starlight appeared, howling once before fading.

Amelia stood frozen, staring down at the symbols until they disappeared.

“I… I don’t know where I’d fit,” she murmured.

Colin gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to know. Not yet. The school sees you clearer than you see yourself. That’s what the Sorting is for.”

She turned to him. “And what about you?”

Colin smiled, a little slyly. “Let’s just say… I used to wear a lot of green and black.”

“Dreverin?” she guessed.

He winked. “We’re not all villains, you know.”

They stopped before a glowing shop carved into the roots of an ancient tree. Its sign shimmered like stardust:

Licht & Loam – Wands, Bound to You

Amelia took a shaky breath.

“I’m really doing this,” she whispered. “I’m buying a wand.”

“You’re not just buying it,” Colin said. “You’re about to meet the first thing that will ever truly know what your magic feels like.”

And with that, he opened the door. A bell tinkled overhead — a sound so light and sharp it felt like it had rung inside her bones.

The shop was narrow, quiet, and smelled like candle smoke and polished wood. Stacks of long, slim boxes reached all the way to the ceiling, tilting slightly as if daring gravity to try its luck. Shelves curved in strange ways, some winding upward in spirals, others zig-zagging into the shadows. It felt… alive. Like the shop was watching her.

As Amelia stepped inside, the floorboards creaked softly, as if whispering her arrival. Suddenly, from behind the counter, an old man appeared — tall, with copper spectacles and hair like thread wrapped around his head. He didn’t walk in; he glided forward, robes swishing like wind.

“You must be Miss Reyes,” he said, not asking but stating. “I felt you coming before you arrived.”

Amelia blinked. “How?”

“The wand chooses the wielder, dear girl,” he murmured, peering at her with eyes that were too bright to be old. “And yours has been waiting.”

He snapped his fingers. A drawer flew open. Another wand box zoomed toward him from the back, sliding gently in the air. He caught it, opened it, and handed the wand to her.

“Give it a wave.”

She held it — a long, deep-brown wand with silver rings near the grip. The moment her fingers closed around it, something shot through her arm. Heat. Not burning — belonging.

She raised it carefully, gave a small wave—

BOOM.

A burst of sparks exploded from the tip — golden-white, scattering like fireworks. Several shelves shuddered, and a stack of boxes collapsed in the corner.

The wandmaker blinked, then smiled. “Hmm. Not that one, I think.”

Amelia laughed nervously and set the wand down. “Sorry.”

He was already pulling out another. And another.

Minutes passed. A dozen wands tried. A dozen failures — smoke, sparks, one wand that turned her eyebrows slightly green.

Finally, the shop fell silent again. The wandmaker turned slowly, walked to the very back of the shop, and returned with a box covered in dust. He set it down in front of her like an offering.

“This one was made long ago,” he said quietly. “Never chosen. Never called. Until now.”

Amelia lifted the lid.

The wand inside was darker than the others, with wood that shimmered faintly violet when tilted in the light. The handle was carved like twisted thread like structure, elegant and wild. She reached for it.

The second her fingers touched it — the shop exhaled. Lamps flickered. Boxes rustled. Wind that wasn’t wind brushed through her hair.

Amelia stood still, her heart racing. Then she turned and looked at Colin. He didn’t speak. Just nodded.

“Well then,” the wandmaker whispered. “Hawthorn and wyrmglass. Ten and a quarter inches. Curious core.”

“Curious?” she echoed.

He leaned in, voice hushed. “Phoenix ash and heartwood from a wyrmroot tree — both rare, both dangerous. That wand will not obey lightly. But if it trusts you…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Amelia looked down at the wand in her hand. It felt like yes. Like finally. She slid it into the case.

Colin stepped beside her. “Ready?”

Amelia grinned. “Now I am.”

After 2 hours of shopping- including wands, books and robes, quills, etc.- they finally reached home.

Colin paused at the gate, “Happy Birthday in advance, Amelia! I won’t be seeing you for the next few days, but I’ll meet you on the train” said Colin.

Amelia nodded and gave a small wave, “See you then.”

She stepped inside her house, closing the door softly behind her.

That night, she lay awake on her bed, trying to process everything.

After a week, her birthday passed. She was now eleven, and ready for her new life. That’s when a letter was dropped at the window of her living room, by an owl.