Elara couldn't stop staring at the board.
The Crimson Grimoire- Myth or Danger?
Her heart thudded in her chest. That name wasn't just a title in an old story. It was real. Her mother used to whisper about it when she thought Elara was asleep. And now, somehow, the school was teaching it in class like it was just a fairy tale.
The teacher, Professor Halwin, adjusted his glasses and smiled at the class. He was too cheerful for someone about to talk about something so dangerous.
"Can anyone tell me what the Crimson Grimoire is?" he asked.
Nobody raised their hand.
Elara looked around. Cassian Vale had his head down, still writing in that red ink. A few vampire students looked bored. The witches looked uncomfortable. Nobody wanted to speak.
So Elara did.
"It's not a myth," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Professor Halwin raised an eyebrow. "Go on, Miss Morn."
She swallowed hard. "It's a book… a spellbook. It's said to be cursed. People say it has spells that are too strong. Blood magic. Forbidden things. It's not safe."
He nodded slowly. "That's one version of the tale. But most historians believe the Crimson Grimoire never really existed."
"But people died because of it," Elara said before she could stop herself.
Whispers spread across the room. The professor frowned.
"And where did you hear that, Miss Morn?"
She froze. What was she supposed to say? My mother used to have nightmares about it before she died mysteriously?
Before she could answer, Cassian spoke.
"She's right."
Every head turned again- this time to him.
"The Grimoire isn't a fairy tale," he said calmly. "It was locked away centuries ago. Some say it was sealed in blood. Others say it was never a book at all, but a living thing."
A chill ran through the room.
Professor Halwin cleared his throat. "That's enough. This lesson was meant to be theoretical. I see now that some of you have very… vivid imaginations."
He turned to the board and started lecturing again, but no one was really listening.
After class, Elara packed her books quickly. She needed to get away, think, breathe, maybe cry a little. But when she turned to leave, Cassian was standing right in front of her.
"You've seen it, haven't you?" he asked.
She stared at him. "What?"
"The Grimoire's mark. It showed itself to you."
Elara's hands tightened around her books. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He leaned in, voice low. "If you lie, it won't protect you. It'll only make it come faster."
"What will?" she asked.
He looked her straight in the eyes. "The one who's hunting the book."
Then he walked away.
Later that night, Elara sat on her bed, staring at the floor where the mark had been. She could still feel it, even though it was gone.
She reached under her bed and pulled out her mother's old journal. It was worn and stained. She flipped through the pages until she found it- a sketch of the same spiral mark she saw this morning.
Beneath it, her mother had written:
"If the Grimoire calls to you, do not answer. If it bleeds, do not touch it. But if it remembers you… run."
Elara hastily closed the book.
She was already too late.