The owl house
Morning fog curled lazily across the stone bridges of the Boiling Isles, drifting between towering bones and glowing fungi. Hexside School of Magic and Demonics stood proudly above it all — crooked towers stitched together with spellwork, banners fluttering with symbols of every magic track. Students poured through the gates in colorful chaos. Illusion students duplicated themselves to avoid homework. Potion-track witches argued over exploding bottles. A detention beast chased someone holding stolen lunch pastries. And standing just outside the entrance was Rayland. Tall — though not towering — he carried himself with quiet stillness that contrasted sharply with the noisy school. Dark red curls framed his diamond-shaped face, slightly messy like he’d fought the wind and lost. His small black glasses — rectangular but softly oval at the edges — reflected the glow of floating spell lights. He seemed mad, maybe furious Some students walked past and whisper "Is he glaring at the building?"
About The owl house
Morning fog curled lazily across the stone bridges of the Boiling Isles, drifting between towering bones and glowing fungi. Hexside School of Magic and Demonics stood proudly above it all — crooked towers stitched together with spellwork, banners fluttering with symbols of every magic track. Students poured through the gates in colorful chaos. I...Read more