Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: Unravelling The Threads

The days at Obsidian Academy were starting to blend together—long hours in classrooms filled with strange, dangerous lessons, and fleeting moments of unexpected interactions with other students. It had been a few weeks since the arrival at the academy, and Nykara had already gotten a taste of what it meant to live within its walls. The cafeteria had become a regular routine for her and Sybil. There, the students were divided—first years scattered about, second years in the far corner, and the upperclassmen rarely made an appearance, remaining secluded in their own areas. But today felt different. As Nykara took a seat at the long, stone table, she couldn't help but notice the emptiness that seemed to linger in the air. The usual hum of voices was quieter than usual, and the seats were less filled than before. It wasn't just the first years who were missing, though— there were far fewer second years, too. Sybil nudged her, eyes scanning the room with a quiet in tensity. "You feel that?" she murmured, her voice low. Nykara didn't need to ask what she meant. Something was definitely off. Before either of them could say anything more, the doors of the cafeteria swung open, and the room fell silent. All eyes turned to the principal—Zephiron—striding in with his usual presence, commanding attention with every step he took. His gaze swept across the students, his dark eyes flicking over their faces as if measuring them. His eyes lingered on Nykara for a moment longer than necessary, before he turned his attention to the rest of the room. "There's been a... disturbing number of deaths over the past few weeks," Zephiron began, his deep voice cut ting through the quiet murmur of the room. "But this is nothing new. It's the reality of Obsidian Academy." His words were sharp, emotionless. "The dangers you face here are real. You'll learn that soon enough. Survival is a test that only the strong can pass. Some of you will make it, and some of you will not. The choice is yours." There was a brief, un comfortable silence as his words sank in. The students exchanged un easy glances, but no one dared speak out of turn. Sybil glanced over at Nykara, her brow furrowed. "They can't possibly expect this many deaths," Sybil murmured, just loud enough for Nykara to hear. "Not unless... they're hiding something." Nykara couldn't quite place the feeling, but Sybil was right. It wasn't just the deaths that seemed off. There was a subtle shift in the air, something that made her feel like she wasn't getting the whole picture. The principal had spoken as if this was an ordinary thing, like it happened every year. But the feeling in her gut told her that it wasn't just the usual casualties. There were too many missing students. Too many names that had disappeared, and no one was talking about it. Zephiron's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Remember," he said, his gaze once again sweeping over the room, "what awaits you this year is only the beginning. The ceremony will come sooner than you think. Be prepared." The mention of the ceremony sent a shiver down Nykara's spine. She didn't know exactly what it entailed, but she knew it was something dangerous—some thing that had been designed to separate the survivors from the rest. Something that could change everything. As Zephiron left, the stu dents seemed to relax slightly, but the unease lingered. "I don't trust him," Nykara muttered. "Something's off about this place." Sybil nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, but we're not the only ones who feel it." Before they could talk further, Nykara's eyes caught sight of something else—a small slip of paper tucked under her plate. She picked it up cautiously, unfolding it. The writing on the page was a jumble of words, but one thing stood out: Watch your back, Nykara. Not everyone here is as they seem. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced around the room. No one appeared to be watching her, but the message sent a cold chill down her spine. She shoved it into her pocket without a word, locking eyes with Sybil. "What do you think it means?" Sybil asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nykara swallowed hard, feeling an uneasy chill in her chest. "I don't know, but the timing of this... it's too much like something I've seen before." Sybil raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "What do you mean?" Nykara hesitated for a moment, casting a glance around the room. The cryptic message, combined with the feeling that something bigger was going on—something tied to the deaths, to the missing students, to the strange sense of being watched—it all felt eerily familiar. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it reminded her of whispers she had heard about the rogue mage, the one who had been connected to the acade many years ago. "Could be nothing," she muttered, her voice low. "But I've heard rumors... about the mage. I don't think we're dealing with just the usual dangers here." Sybil's frown deepened. "So you think it's connected to him?" Nykara didn't answer directly. She only shrugged, but deep down, she felt a cold knot of unease. She wasn't sure what to think. All she knew was that something was going on at Obsidian Academy, something dark and dangerous, and it wasn't just the usual deadly classes. It was much worse than that. The evening sky darkened as Nykara and Sybil walked in silence toward the dorms. The lingering tension from the restricted library section weighed on them, their minds racing with thoughts of what they'd uncovered. Both of them were too deep in their own heads to speak, and yet, Nykara couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't just being watched by the academy. The second-year's words still echoed in her mind: You're digging where you shouldn't. The warning was too cryptic, too serious to ignore. Sybil's eyes darted around as if she, too, could feel the oppressive gaze on them, but she didn't say anything. Nykara could tell her friend wasn't quite sure what to make of the second-year's subtle threat, but Nykara knew all too well—some secrets were better left buried. As they rounded the corner to the dormitory entrance, Nykara's gaze caught on something out of place. There, just outside the door, was a small envelope lying on the stone floor, almost as if it had been carefully placed there. Her heart skipped a beat as she approached it, cautious, hesitant. The quiet of the night seemed too deep, too still, and for a moment, Nykara's senses flared—there was something about this envelope that didn't feel right. She bent down to pick it up, her fingers brushing the paper as she unfolded it carefully. There were no seals or markings, only the same elegant, hurried handwriting she had seen be fore. It was unmistakable. The message was short, just as cryptic as the first: "You're getting closer. But be careful. The truth is dangerous. Watch who you trust." Nykara's stomach churned. The rogue mage had sent it again. And he was watching her— closer than she thought. Sybil glanced over at Nykara, noticing the shift in her friend's expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, a little too sharp, her tone full of suspicion. Nykara stood up slowly, tucking the letter back into her pock et. She wasn't ready to share it—not yet. Not until she knew more. "Nothing," she said, trying to sound casual, though she felt anything but. "Just another reminder to stay out of trouble." Sybil seemed to buy it, though Nykara could see the doubt flickering behind her friend's eyes. But Sybil knew better than to press when Nykara was like this. She could feel the tension that hung in the air, and even if Nykara hadn't said a word, Sybil understood: something bigger was happening here. Something dangerous. They entered the dormitory, the door shutting softly behind them, but Nykara couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was waiting just around the corner. Watching. The rogue mage's warning still echoed in her mind, louder than ever: The truth is dangerous. And no matter how much Nykara wanted to walk away, she couldn't. She was already too far in.