In Wisdom, Shelter. That’s the official motto of the Scholomance. I suppose you could even argue that it’s true - only the wisdom is hard to come by, so the shelter’s rather scant.
Our beloved school does its best to devour all its students - but now that I’ve reached my senior year and have actually won myself a handful of allies, it’s suddenly developed a very particular craving for me. And even if I somehow make it through the endless waves of maleficaria that it keeps throwing at me in between grueling homework assignments, I haven’t any idea how my allies and I are going to make it through the graduation hall alive.
Unless, of course, I finally accept my foretold destiny of dark sorcery and destruction. That would certainly let me sail straight out of here. The course of wisdom, surely.
But I’m not giving in - not to the mals, not to fate, and especially not to the Scholomance. I’m going to get myself and my friends out of this hideous place for good - even if it’s the last thing I do.
