The days since the mysterious deaths had felt heavier, as though the weight of them hung in the very air at Obsidian Academy. The usual energy in the corridors had been replaced by an undercurrent of nervous whispers. Nykara couldn't ignore it, but she refused to let it show. She had too much on her plate already, the weird messages, the secretive atmosphere, and—most of all-Zephiron. The class schedule felt like a blur. Every day had been a fight for survival, a battle of wills.
Today, however, the usual routine had been broken. As Nykara walked to the training hall with Sybil, a familiar figure blocked their path. The second-year student, with his sharp eyes and cryptic grin, was leaning against the wall near the training area. "Just the person I wanted to see," he said, his voice smooth, almost too calm. Nykara paused, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not in the mood for riddles." He pushed himself off the wall, moving closer.
"I don't care whether you're in the mood or not. You're playing with fire, Nykara. The darker the truth, the more it burns." His eyes flicked over to Sybil before meeting Nykara's gaze again. "I warned you before, and I'm warning you again. You're going too far. Some things are better left alone." Nykara crossed her arms, irritation bubbling up. "And what makes you think you know anything about what I'm doing?" He smirked, stepping even closer, his tone dropping to a near whisper. "I know more than you think. Stay out of it, Nykara. There's a reason some questions don't have answers." Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students. His words lingered, heavy and full of meaning, but Nykara wasn't ready to back down. If anything, it only made her more determined to uncover the truth. The training hall was a chaotic battlefield of students sizing each other up, testing their skills.
Nykara entered, trying to ignore the tension in the air, but it wasn't easy. The instructor was now here to be found, but the presence of Zephiron was impossible to miss. He stood at the far side of the hall, arms crossed, his dark eyes scanning the students with unnerving focus. "Everyone, form up,"a sharp voice barked. It wasn't the usual instructor. Zephiron, ever the enigma, had taken charge. "Today, we're not playing games," he continued, his voice commanding the room. "We're going to see who's worth keeping in this academy and who's not." Nykara's heartbeat quickened. The words stung, but she refused to let it show. She and Sybil exchanged a look before stepping into their designated positions. "You," Zephiron called out, pointing to Sybil.
"Come here. You're up first." Sybil's eyes narrowed, but she walked forward confidently, her movements graceful, almost too calculated for someone her age. She stood in front of Zephiron, waiting for him to call the shot. "Let's see what you've got," he said. Nykara watched, intrigued, as Sybil moved with an agility that was impossible to predict. The girl was clever, a real fighter. The way she ducked, dodged, and struck made it clear she wasn't just relying on brute strength. "Not bad," Zephiron said, his voice low and unreadable. Nykara's breath caught in her throat when Zephiron's attention shifted to her. She stepped forward, locking eyes with him. "You think you can keep up?" he asked, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Nykara didn't hesitate. She clenched her fists and nodded. "I don't back down." The fight began almost immediately. Zephiron's movements were swift and precise, and Nykara struggled to keep up. She was good, but he was better—he seemed to anticipate every moves he made. Still, she wouldn't give up.
Her knife was a steady presence at her side, ready for anything. She darted in, testing his defenses. Zephiron blocked effortlessly, but she managed to slip past his guard once, a quick strike that forced him to retreat. Nykara pressed on, relentless. The knife felt alive in her grip, almost as if it had a mind of its own. She used every ounce of energy to keep him on the defensive, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost... impressed. The fight was intense. The room was filled with the sound of bodies moving, the clash of weapons, and the occasional grunt as students battled one another. Nykara's muscles were already starting to burn from the earlier drills, but she was on fire, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and pure defiance. Her focus never wavered as she dodged and struck, anticipating every move before it was made. Zephiron was a challenge, no doubt. He fought with a fluid, calculated precision, his movements almost too fast for the eye to catch.
But Nykara wasn't intimidated. She could feel the sharp edge of the knife in her hand and the dark, pulsing energy in her blood. She wasn't just fighting him—she was fighting for control. For dominance. With a sudden twist of her wrist, she disarmed him and sent his sword clattering to the ground. The room was silent for a split second, and Nykara took that moment to strike, her knee coming to rest on his chest as she pressed the knife to his throat. The room was dead silent now. Every one was watching. They were all waiting. For the first time in a long time, the usually rowdy group of students felt the weight of what was happening. No one moved. Zephiron's breath was ragged beneath her, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something there, something dark and dangerous that sent a shiver up her spine. "You're good, "he said, his voice almost a growl, his lips curling into a smirk. "But there's more to this than you think." Nykara didn't flinch. She kept her gaze locked on his, her hands steady as the knife hovered just above his skin.
"I didn't come here to get your approval,"she snapped, her tone laced with irritation. Zephiron's smirk widened, and his voice lowered, becoming dangerously soft. "You think you're ready for this? Ready for the truth?" Her grip tightened around the hilt of the knife, her heart pounding in her chest. Her body was thrumming with power she couldn't fully understand, and she was becoming aware of the dark smoke curling from her hands, the strange energy she couldn't control. "I'm not scared of you," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. Zephiron's smirk turned into a knowing, almost possessive grin. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You should be. Because there are no rules here, Nykara. You should watch your back." Nykara didn't have time to respond. As she shifted, the knife grazed his neck, slicing just deep enough to draw blood. A thin trickle of crimson ran down his throat, staining his collarbone. The moment the blood appeared, the entire room went deathly quiet. Everyone was watching, their eyes wide with shock.
No one had expected it. Zephiron's smirk remained, though his eyes flashed with a dark intensity that made her stomach flutter. He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Guess you're a little more dangerous than I thought." The room was still. The silence was almost suffocating. Nykara's chest rose and fell with each breath, her knife still hovering dangerously close to Zephiron's throat. For a moment, neither of them moved, locked in the intensity of the confrontation. The students around them exchanged nervous glances, waiting for the next move. Nykara, however, didn't flinch. She didn't lower her knife. She knew she had him, but something about the stillness in the air, the pressure building between them, made her hesitate. Zephiron's expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering with something deeper, something darker. "You think you've won?" His voice was low, the words laced with an eerie calm. Nykara's grip tightened on the knife, her muscles tense, ready to move.
"You don't scare me," she muttered again, her voice rough with defiance. Zephiron's smirk returned, though it was sharper now, almost predatory. "You should be scared, Nykara." His eyes glinted, something shifting in his gaze. "The real fight's only just begun." The words lingered in the air, like a warning, heavy and suffocating. Before Nykara could respond, the sergeant's voice broke the tension, calling them both back to reality. "Enough!" he barked, his tone stern, snapping everyone out of the trance they had fallen into. "We'll finish this later." Nykara pulled back, taking a step away from Zephiron, but her eyes never left his. The fight had been in tense, but there was more at play here than just skill—something deeper that Nykara couldn't quite understand. Something that gnawed at her insides. As she turned to leave the ring, Sybil's voice caught her ear, sharp and inquisitive. "Something's off," Sybil said, her brow furrowed as she watched Zephiron, who stood unmoving, his hand brushing the blood at his neck.
"That guy's not just testing you. He's interested in you. And it's not just because of your skills." Nykara glanced back, but Zephiron had already turned away, his attention shifting to the other students as the next set of challenges began. But there was a shift in the air, a tension that Nykara couldn't shake. She couldn't help but wonder what game he was playing—and why she had suddenly become a part of it. As they walked off the training floor, a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground in front of Nykara. It was folded tightly, and the edges were worn, as if it had been passed through many hands before reaching her. Nykara frowned, glancing around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her. She knelt down and picked up the note, her heart beginning to race. Nykara's fingers tightened around the note, and she stared at the scrawled words, her stomach twisting with unease:
"You're treading dangerous ground, Nykara. Keep going, and you'll be in over your head. You'll need my help. Trust me, Nykara, or you'll regret it."
Her breath caught as the words sank in. The note wasn't just a threat. It was a twisted invitation. She glanced around again. The students were still going about their business, no one paying attention
to her. But the air felt heavy, like someone was watching her, waiting. Sybil's voice cut through the silence, sharp and low. "Well, shit. This is bad, Nykara." She took a step closer, her eyes scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of danger. "You're in deep now. But I've gotta say, I don't like the sound of this. You can't trust him. I don't care how much power he's got, he's still a bastard. And if he thinks you're going to just walk into his trap... Well, we'll see about that." Nykara looked at Sybil, her jaw clenched. She could feel the weight of the note in her hand, her pulse picking up. "Trust him? The fucking nerve. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that." But even as she said it, a seed of doubt sprouted in the back of her mind. The rogue mage had been watching her.
And now, it seemed, he wanted to help her. Nykara crumpled the note in her hand, her frustration boiling over. "God, this is all just one big fucking mess. First the school, then that asshole Zephiron, now this mage... What the hell am I supposed to do?" Sybil's eyes softened, and she gave Nykara's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You're gonna figure it out. You always do. But don't trust him, Nykara. I don't care what he says. He's not here to help you." Nykara exhaled sharply, her anger rising. "Yeah, no shit. I'm not gonna fall for his bullshit. But I need to find out what the hell is going on. And fast." As they made their way through the dimly lit corridor, Sybil stopped abruptly, her hand gripping Nykara's arm, pulling her to a halt. "You're not going to like what I'm about to say," she muttered, her voice lower than usual. She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring no one was around. "But something about this is tied to your bloodline, Nykara. You felt it, too, didn't you? The way your powers flared during the fight with Zephiron? It's too... dangerous. The deaths aren't accidental. They're being caused by someone who knows exactly how to manipulate the situation."
Nykara's frown deepened as she pulled her arm from Sybil's grip. "What are you talking about? The deaths? They've been happening for years. They're a part of the academy." Sybil shook her head, her expression darkening. "No, you're not hearing me. The rogue mage. He's not just watching you. He wants something. But it's more than your power. He's been taking students—maybe even manipulating them, using them to fuel his own ambitions." She paused, eyes narrowing as if she had pieced it together just now. "And your bloodline, Nykara... it's connected. There's something in your family, something buried that we haven't uncovered yet. And that's why you're the key to all this." Nykara swallowed, her mind racing. Sybil's words echoed in her head like a warning bell. "So, what? You think this has something to do with my family? My bloodline's curse?" "Maybe not a curse, but..." Sybil trailed off, glancing at the note she'd seen Nykara holding earlier. "Your blood is different. And that's what makes you the target. You're not just a piece in this game, Nykara.
You're the prize.