Gael's words from the previous class kept circling in my head.
> "The mark doesn't lie. Even if we do."
It wasn't just a line.
It was a warning.
---
Velgrave's library was quiet even for whispers.
The shelves stretched into shadows, and the air smelled of old leather, ink, and forgotten things.
I walked straight toward the restricted section.
Technically, it was off-limits without permission.
But the gate was open. Barely.
Like someone had been there.
Or wanted me to be.
I started searching.
Marks. Bonds. Shared souls. Ancient pacts.
Finally, I found a book with no title.
The cover was cracked wood, cold to the touch.
Inside, everything was handwritten—irregular lines, fading ink, pages full of symbols that almost burned to be understood.
And then I read something that froze me:
> "When two souls are marked with the same seal, it means they were bound before memory."
Before memory.
Before knowing.
Before forgetting.
—"You shouldn't be reading that."
I spun around.
A figure stood in the shadows. Tall. Hooded.
I couldn't see a face.
—"Who are you?"
No reply.
They stepped forward, took the book from my hands in one swift motion,
and disappeared between the columns.
I ran after them—but when I reached the main aisle...
Nothing.
As if they had vanished.
---
On my way down the stairs, I saw him.
Gael.
Sitting at the farthest table, alone. Reading.
He didn't look at me.
Didn't speak.
But as he stood to leave, a folded piece of paper slipped from his book.
Old. Worn.
Drawn in black ink was the same symbol as the one on my back.
I didn't move.
I just watched him go.
And for the first time,
I didn't want to ask anything.
Because something inside me whispered:
Sometimes, knowing hurts more than not knowing.