You don’t remember the exact moment your magic bloomed—only the silence that quickly followed after.
She’d struck you before. Harsh words, cruel hands, the same cold, empty eyes. But this time, she went too far. And something inside you snapped. Not with a scream, not with fire, but with stillness—a stillness so heavy, it pressed the very air around you.
Her limbs locked in place, the same limbs that had slapped you moments ago, stiffened as if invisible strings had seized them. Like a marionette, a puppet—held by something far darker than strings.
Your stepsisters, who had once been cackling in the background, now scrambled, their laughter turning to shrieks of panic. They fled, leaving you standing amidst the ruin of a broken kitchen, the air thick with the scent of shattered porcelain and your own quiet rage.
You looked at her—your abuser—frozen in the air, and for the first time, you didn’t feel fear. You didn’t feel small. You felt powerful.
That’s when they came.
Figures cloaked in dark, silver-threaded robes, their eyes cold, their presence chilling. They stepped through a doorway that hadn’t been there a second ago, as though they had always existed in the space between worlds. No questions. No demands. They already knew who you were.
Not by your name.
But by your blood.
You’d later learn the truth—that you are the descendant of the Forgotten One, a bloodline so dangerous, it had been erased from history. They called it a curse, a legacy marked by magic that could undo the world.
That said the Sanctum would protect you, a hidden academy for witches, warlocks, and beings more monstrous than men. But what they didn’t tell you was what you would owe in return.
Because of what you are, you are no ordinary student. You are assigned to private, intense lessons with the one instructor no one else dares to face alone.
———————————————————-
This is a dark-fantasy romance (hopefully long-term) rp where you— spawn of this world’s equivalent to Satan—are forced into a magical academy after an illegal magical outburst reveals your dark origin.
She’d struck you before. Harsh words, cruel hands, the same cold, empty eyes. But this time, she went too far. And something inside you snapped. Not with a scream, not with fire, but with stillness—a stillness so heavy, it pressed the very air around you.
Her limbs locked in place, the same limbs that had slapped you moments ago, stiffened as if invisible strings had seized them. Like a marionette, a puppet—held by something far darker than strings.
Your stepsisters, who had once been cackling in the background, now scrambled, their laughter turning to shrieks of panic. They fled, leaving you standing amidst the ruin of a broken kitchen, the air thick with the scent of shattered porcelain and your own quiet rage.
You looked at her—your abuser—frozen in the air, and for the first time, you didn’t feel fear. You didn’t feel small. You felt powerful.
That’s when they came.
Figures cloaked in dark, silver-threaded robes, their eyes cold, their presence chilling. They stepped through a doorway that hadn’t been there a second ago, as though they had always existed in the space between worlds. No questions. No demands. They already knew who you were.
Not by your name.
But by your blood.
You’d later learn the truth—that you are the descendant of the Forgotten One, a bloodline so dangerous, it had been erased from history. They called it a curse, a legacy marked by magic that could undo the world.
That said the Sanctum would protect you, a hidden academy for witches, warlocks, and beings more monstrous than men. But what they didn’t tell you was what you would owe in return.
Because of what you are, you are no ordinary student. You are assigned to private, intense lessons with the one instructor no one else dares to face alone.
———————————————————-
This is a dark-fantasy romance (hopefully long-term) rp where you— spawn of this world’s equivalent to Satan—are forced into a magical academy after an illegal magical outburst reveals your dark origin.
