Chapter6: The Mentor's Gaze
Blood trickled from Evan's temple as he stumbled into the old greenhouse. Dawn light filtered through the cracked glass, painting the overgrown ferns in watery gold. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one tasting of smoke and the metallic tang of fear.
Rowan Vale stood with his back turned, crushing nightshade berries in a mortar. Without looking up, he said, "You've seen the mirror."
It wasn't a question.
Evan collapsed onto a rusted bench. The wound on his head pulsed in time with his heartbeat. "Mira tried to kill me."
"Obviously." Rowan turned, his earth-brown eyes scanning Evan's injuries. "You're lucky she didn't succeed." He scooped a dollop of foul-smelling paste from the mortar and pressed it to Evan's temple. The pain vanished instantly, replaced by a cool numbness. "Tell me everything."
As Evan spoke, Rowan's expression darkened. When he mentioned the face in the mirror, the older student's hands stilled.
"Selene," Rowan breathed. "I should have known."
"Known what?"
Rowan wiped his hands on his trousers, leaving green streaks. "The truth about the Solstice family's binding ritual." He moved to a locked cabinet, withdrawing a leather-bound journal. "It requires seven sacrifices—one from each magical discipline."
He flipped open the journal to a marked page. A list of names spanned decades, each beside a crude drawing of a different artifact:
*Theron Veyne - Stormcaller (1942) - Contained within the lightning rod atop the north tower
Lilith Solene - Pyrebinder (1893) - Ashes interred in the headmaster's hourglass*
Evan's stomach turned. "These are—"
"Previous offerings," Rowan confirmed. His finger stopped at the most recent entry: Elara Vale - Terramancer (Last Autumn) - Bones ground into the academy's foundation mortar.
The name hit Evan like a physical blow. "Your...?"
"Sister." Rowan's voice cracked. "I was supposed to take her place. Would have, if she hadn't..." He trailed off, staring at his dirt-stained palms.
The greenhouse door creaked open.
Isolde Renard stood silhouetted against the rising sun, her usually pristine braid coming undone, her glasses cracked. In her arms, she cradled a book that leaked black smoke.
"You need to see this," she whispered.
The book was titled "On the Nature of Veils" in flaking gold lettering. Isolde laid it carefully on the workbench, using two quills to pry it open without touching the pages.
"The archive started screaming after you left," she said. "This was the only volume that didn't attack me."
The exposed page showed an illustration of seven figures standing around a writhing mass of shadows. One figure—tall, silver-haired—held a dagger to another's throat.
Evan's breath caught. "Selene."
"Not just Selene." Isolde pointed to the shadowy mass. "Look at its face."
As Evan leaned closer, the ink seemed to shift. The creature's features resolved into something familiar—the same sharp cheekbones, the same piercing eyes.
Lucian Crowhurst.
Rowan made a sound like a wounded animal. "The headmaster's pet monster is her brother?"
Isolde adjusted her cracked glasses. "Worse. I think she's the one who bound him."
The summons came at midday.
A first-year Evan didn't know delivered the note with shaking hands. The parchment bore the headmaster's seal—a crescent moon impaled by a dagger.
"Mr. Drayce," it read. "My office. Midnight."
When Evan looked up, the messenger had already fled.
Aria materialized from behind a tapestry, her usual smirk absent. "Well," she said, eyeing the note. "That's not ominous at all."
Evan crumpled the parchment. "I need to talk to Selene."
"Bad idea." Aria grabbed his wrist. "After last night, she'll be—"
"Waiting for me," came a voice like frost on glass.
Selene Arkwright stood at the corridor's end, her gray eyes glowing faintly in the shadows. "Alone, Evan."
Aria's grip tightened. "Don't," she whispered.
But Evan was already walking forward.
Selene's private quarters smelled of snow and something bitter—wolfsbane, maybe. Moonlight streamed through the arched windows, illuminating the dozens of tiny cages hanging from the ceiling. In each, a different bird sat silent and still.
Not stuffed.
Not dead.
Just... waiting.
"You've been busy," Selene said, pouring tea neither of them would drink. The cup trembled in her hands—the first crack in her composure Evan had ever seen. "Poking at things better left buried."
Evan remained standing. "Like your brother?"
The teacup shattered on the floor.
For a heartbeat, Selene's perfect mask slipped. Raw anguish twisted her features before she schooled them back to calm. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible.
"Lucian wasn't always a monster. The academy made him one." She turned to the largest cage, where a raven with silver-tipped wings watched them with uncanny intelligence. "Just as it will make you one, if you're not careful."
Evan stepped closer. "Then help me stop it."
Selene laughed—a hollow, broken sound. "Oh, Evan. Don't you understand yet?" She reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek with terrifying gentleness.
"You're not here to stop the ritual."
"You're here to become it."