My name is Adalia Elen Fendrich, and this is my story.

I was born in 1996, to a loving mom and dad, in San Diego, California. I lived in a quiet neighborhood, and went to the local elementary school. But when I turned twelve, everything changed. The day I was promoted from the fifth grade, I got this weird letter; my mom said it was written on parchment, probably with a real feather quill. It told me I was a witch, had magical abilities, and that someone would be coming over the next day to explain everything. And explain they did. After the conference, they told me that I could go to a special school for witches. It was an all girl's school, but it wasn't local. I would have to go to Montana for the majority of the year, where the school was located. And who would have thought it, I accepted.

So now here I am, fifteen years old, attending the Merlin Le Fay Academy of Young Witches. It's really a great place. When I first got here, I was kind of scared. But soon, I was too amazed to be scared anymore. The school is located in a huge, beautiful forest, in the middle of nowhere. It's this giant mansion, made of cool glittery stone and old looking metal. It looks like a modern fairytale castle. The schools dynamic is pretty simple. There are three dorm groups that the girls are in. We get to pick what dorm we're in when we first come to school, and then every other year if we want to switch, we can. Most of the time girls don't switch though, we get so attached to our dorm mates we can't imagine separating. The three dorms are fairy (where most of the rich girls and snobs go), elf (which is made up of a bunch of slightly aloof but regal all the same geniuses), and of course, Dragon (totally the best group, consisting of tomboys rebels and outcasts from the other two dorms) which I'm completely proud to be in. I almost decided on elf, but they seemed a little cold to me, so a dragon I am. There are only two other dragons in my grade, and we're extremely tight-knit by now. The rest of the academy calls us the three musketeers, which I think makes no sense whatsoever because the three musketeers were originally French men in their army, and we're young witches in an academy, but whatever. The Academy has a lot of transfer students to, from like, all over the world. Once we reach ninth grade, we're allowed to apply for a transfer, which is what I did the moment I was old enough. And I totally lucked out. My transfer request to a school in Scotland was accepted. I'm going there tomorrow, for the start of the school year, and I'm completely overtaken by last minute jitters. Which is probably why I'm sitting on the floor of a room that looks like a tornado hit it, writing, when I should be packing. Aaaaand here comes mom. I guess that I need to pack now. I'll write later, I promise.