After the classroom emptied, Vell leaned against his desk, just watching the students go.
Some paused to thank him, and others just offered him curious glances.
He gave each of them a small nod, but nothing else.
Something was missing, though.
No. Not something, but someone
Sonder wasn't there.
It wasn't like her to miss a lecture.
She always sat near the side wall, where the light hit her notes just right.
He glanced once more at the doorway. No sign of her.
Vell sighed through his nose.
"Maybe she had enough of golems?" He thought to himself and let it be for the moment.
Meanwhile, not far away, Sonder was thinking that she shouldn't have done what she had.
She knew that.
She'd already told herself that a dozen times as she slipped in past the fold of the leather satchel and dropped gently into Vell's bag, which mildly disoriented her.
She had been there for a while, exploring.
Hiraeth muttered on her shoulder, his small face furrowed with concern. She had picked him up in the library.
"I shouldn't have let you in here," he said.
"You didn't let me," Sonder said. "I came in."
He gave a low hum that sounded far too much like a sigh for something his size.
"I just want to look," she added. "That's all."
"You know he wouldn't like this."
"I know."
The silence that followed wasn't accusatory, just disappointed.
And yet, Sonder kept walking.
Part of her felt awful.
This wasn't like her.
It was out of character, impulsive, and wrong. But the words Vell had spoken about cursed things, the strange weight in his voice. It lingered in her head like a splinter.
She just wanted to see. Not touch. Not take.
After diving deep into the seemingly endless corridors of the place inside Vell's bag, she found a door that seemed to call to her.
How she had found it, she didn't know. Unknowingly, she weaved her way through the corridors to this very door.
She opened it, and what was inside wasn't locked in cages or glowing with menacing light.
Most of it looked ordinary.
A rusted lantern without a flame. A child's doll missing an eye. A crown of greenish metal with velvet, though worn down. Nothing shimmered, nothing hissed.
But as Sonder stepped past the threshold of the little room, her skin tightened, like it does in a sudden chill.
She stopped just inside.
There were shelves to the left and right, all uneven, made of mismatched wood and stone slabs balanced on chunks of books.
If these were the cursed things, or relics, nothing was placed with care. They were out in the open, no labels, not secure.
But they were spread far enough from one another, as if even letting them touch each other would be dangerous.
She didn't dare go further in.
Her eyes drifted to one thing on the far wall.
A long, dark mirror.