Nykara awoke that morning with a sense of unease
crawling under her skin. It was an odd feeling, the kind that lingered in
the back of your mind, gnawing at you, but she couldn't pinpoint why.
The day was supposed to be free from classes, a respite before the up
coming preparations for the Dark Forest and the companion ceremony. Yet, something felt off. She couldn't shake the sensation that some
thing was coming—a storm on the horizon, just waiting to break. She
pulled herself out of bed, slipping into her usual black leathers. Her
sword, too, found its place at her side, along with the assortment of
knives she kept hidden on her body. It wasn't like she needed them to
day, but something about the heaviness in the air made her feel like she
wasn't allowed the luxury of not being prepared. Sybil was still in bed
when Nykara got dressed, pulling on her boots with a groan.
"You're upearly," Sybil commented, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I couldn't
sleep," Nykara muttered, glancing out the window. The sky was over
cast, a dull gray blanket that matched her mood. "I don't know. I just...
feel like something's coming. Like the calm before a storm." Sybil's eyes
flicked over to her, her expression shifting from sleepy amusement to
somethingmoreserious."You're paranoid. There'snothinggoingonto
day. The professors are all busy preparing for the Dark Forest stuff, remember? You've got the day off. Relax. For once." Nykara didn't answer right away. She just tugged her gloves on tighter, then reached for
her knives, slipping them into their usual places. The weight of them
comforted her, though she couldn't shake the nagging sense of some
thing wrong.
Sybil yawned and stretched, getting out of bed. "Look, I get it. You're not used to quiet, but we're in a safe spot right now. Nothing's going to happen." She shot Nykara a smirk. "Just enjoy the break. Maybe we can get some food, catch up on things. How's your latest
project going, anyway?" Nykara snorted, a small, bitter laugh escaping
her. "It's going fine. I just can't seem to stop thinking about this whole
ceremony. It feels like... everyone's expecting something big to happen,
like they're all waiting for the other shoe to drop." Sybil raised an eye
brow, then shrugged. "Well, if something does happen, we'll just have
to deal with it. Together, like always." Nykara glanced over at her, the
faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I know you've got my back, Syb. I just... I don't know what's been bugging me. Just a feeling, I guess. But you're probably right. Maybe I'm just overthinking."
"Maybe," Sybil agreed. "But that's kind of your thing, huh?" Nykara
rolled her eyes, but the nagging feeling in her chest wouldn't go away.
They met in the cafeteria, grabbing food and trying to relax. Sybil shot
Nykara an amused look as they sat down, poking at her plate. "You're
still tense, aren't you?" Sybil said, tilting her head as she observed her
friend. "You know me too well," Nykara muttered, picking at her food.
Her stomach felt uneasy despite the normal routine. "Maybe I'm just
not used to having a day off. Doesn't feel right."
Sybil shrugged, not pushing it any further. "You're being paranoid, Nykara," she teased, poking her with her fork. "It's a day off. The professors are busy with
the ceremony stuff, and Zephiron's got his hands full with the Forest
preparations. What's the worst that can happen?" Nykara didn't reply
immediately, but the pit in her stomach only deepened. She couldn't
explain it, but she just knew—something was wrong. The scream shattered the fragile peace. A sound full of terror, raw and jagged, rang out
from the outside. The cafeteria fell silent, the atmosphere shifting instantly from calm to tense. Nykara's eyes flicked to Sybil. Without a word, both of them shot out of their seats, their instincts kicking in as they bolted for the door. As they stepped outside, they were hit with the unmistakable chill of danger.
The air seemed to thicken with dark magic. The screaming was still echoing, but it was fading. Nykara and Sybil's eyes locked—something was already happening, and it wasn't good. They ran toward the source, rounding the corner just in time to
see two dark-robed figures, their hands raised, their faces hidden beneath hoods. The two students on the ground, their bodies writhing in
agony, were being drained—magic literally siphoning out of them in
tendrils of dark energy. It was too late. The students were already dead,
their bodies nothing more than husks, drained of everything. Sybil
cursed under her breath, her fists clenched in fury. "Son of a—" Nykara
started, but before she could finish, both she and Sybil were charging
forward, instinctively heading for the mages.
The dark mages didn't even flinch as the two first-years approached. One of them turned, his eyes glowing with a dangerous, malevolent light. "What do you think you're doing?" the mage hissed, his voice cold and dripping with malice. Nykara didn't hesitate. She lashed out, her knife cutting through the air as she aimed for his side. He blocked it with ease, but Nykara
pressed on, her energy fueled by rage. She wasn't about to let these bastards get away with this. Sybil, meanwhile, was fighting her own battle
with the other mage. The air around her seemed to crackle with energy as she launched attacks from every angle. They weren't killing the
mages—just incapacitating them, making sure they couldn't siphon any
more magic.
The fight was short, but brutal. The mages were skilled,
but Nykara and Sybil were fueled by a fury that only came from wit
nessing such brutality. The mages weren't prepared for the onslaught,
and after a few well-placed strikes, they were forced to retreat, disappearing into the shadows. Breathing heavily, Nykara stood over the fallen students, her eyes hardening. "We were too late," Sybil muttered,
her voice tight with anger. "I know," Nykara responded. "But we sure
as hell made them pay for it." Before Sybil could respond, the sound
of approaching footsteps broke the tense silence. Professor Vaelith, a
tall and imposing figure, arrived first, followed closely by Zephiron, his
expression unreadable.
"What's going on here?" Zephiron's voice was icy, his eyes flicking from the dead students to the retreating mages. He wasn't pleased, and it was obvious. His gaze lingered on Nykara for a moment, the faintest trace of something unreadable in his eyes before he turned to Professor Vaelith. "Get these students inside, now," Professor Vaelith ordered, his voice commanding. Nykara didn't speak, but she felt the weight of Zephiron's gaze on her as he observed the aftermath of the fight. This wouldn't be the last time she felt his presence, she was sure of it. The scene was chaotic, but Nykara's mind was already moving to the next thing. The mages might have gotten away this time, but the message was clear: they weren't safe.
None of them were. The tension in the air was thick, heavier than before, like
a storm waiting to break. Nykara stood motionless, her breath ragged,
her eyes fixed on the two fallen bodies of the students. They were be
yond saving, drained dry by the mages' dark magic. The ground be
neath her feet felt cold—colder than it had any right to be. Professor
Vaelith, tall and imposing, was the first to approach, her eyes sweeping
over the scene with unnerving calm. She barely looked at the retreating
mages. Instead, she focused on the students, her voice sharp as a dag
ger, "Get them inside. Now." The Poisons professor's gaze lingered on
Nykara for a moment too long, as if weighing something in her that
she couldn't quite place.
She met her eyes for a moment before looking away. There was something off about the way she observed her, like she knew she was hiding more than she let on. Zephiron, ever the shadow in the room, stepped up next, his boots making soft sounds against the stone as he approached Nykara. The coldness in his gaze hadn't softened, but there was something new there—a flicker of something she couldn't quite identify. Something that made her skin crawl in a different way. His voice was low, controlled, a dangerous calm. "Impressive. You handled yourself well... for someone who's supposed to be the bad
guy." Nykara's jaw tightened at the words. There was an edge to them,
something laced with amusement. Is he taunting me? She didn't flinch,
keeping her posture rigid as she met his gaze head-on, trying to ignore the strange heat rising inside her.
"What do you want, Zephiron?" she snapped, refusing to back down. There was an undeniable tension hanging between them, something both charged and threatening. His lips twitched in the faintest smile, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Careful, Nykara. You're playing with fire." The words slid out of his mouth with deliberate ease, and for a moment, she almost
thought she saw a flash of something else in his eyes—something that
made her blood run just a little colder. Before she could respond, the
wind picked up, pulling her attention elsewhere. Sybil was by her side,
her face tight with frustration. "We need to get out of here," Sybil muttered under her breath, her fists clenched at her sides. "Before they
start asking too many questions." Nykara didn't argue. She knew Sybil
was right. The Poisons professor was already barking orders, pulling the
other students to their feet. Zephiron lingered for a moment longer,
but after one last look at Nykara, he followed the others back inside.
___________________________________________________
Later that evening, Nykara was in her room, still trying to shake the
strange weight that hung around her after the encounter. She was pacing, restless, unable to quiet her mind. The fight, the power, the
mages—it all kept replaying in her head. Her darker side was still restless, pulsing with energy she couldn't control, a constant, unnerving
presence. Sybil had left her to deal with the aftermath,butitwasn't long
before the door creaked open again. Nykara didn't even need to turn
around. She knew it was Sybil. The faint scent of perfume and wind followed her inside. "Still pacing?" Sybil asked dryly, flopping down on
Nykara's bed. "You can't keep blaming yourself, you know." Nykara
didn't respond at first, just stared at the floor, the weight of Sybil's
words sinking deep into her chest. I should've done something... more.
But what? The mages were too powerful. They had been drained al
ready. She'd been too late. Before she could voice her frustration, her
gaze landed on the bed.
Something was different. On her pillow was a thick, leather-bound book—ancient-looking, its cover adorned with strange symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light. "What the hell is this?" Nykara murmured, walking over to it and picking it up. It felt...
wrong, like it had been waiting for her. She ran her fingers over the symbols, feeling an odd pull toward it. Sybil sat up, a concerned look on her
face. "Is that yours? It wasn't here earlier." "No. I didn't leave it here."
Nykara felt the hairs on her neck rise. The book didn't belong here. She
hadn't seen it before. Yet, something about it called to her. With a hesitant breath, she opened it. The pages were old, yellowed with age, but
the writing—some of it familiar, some of it foreign—was unmistakable.
Sketches of creatures she couldn't recognize, symbols that seemed to
pulse as if alive, all surrounded the cryptic text. And then, at the very
bottom of one page, there was a warning, scrawled in thick black ink:
"You are marked, Nykara. The blood that runs through you will bring
fire. The darker the truth, the more it burns. They will come for you,
and for the power inside you."
Her heart skipped a beat. She read it again. And again. My bloodline...? "What is it?" Sybil asked, her voice tight with concern. "I don't know," Nykara muttered. But as she stared down at the book, something inside her —her darker side—flared up again. A warning, it whispered, cold and jagged. Her magic hummed in response, the pull of the words almost unbearable. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air too thick. She slammed the book shut, pushing it away as if it had burned her. Sybil frowned, but didn't press her further.
"This doesn't feel right, Nykara," Sybil said softly. "We need to figure
this out. Fast." Nykara didn't respond. She was too lost in her thoughts.
The blood that runs through me... It wasn't just dark magic. It was
something more. Something that might just be tied to the very deaths
that had been plaguing the academy. And in the back of her mind, she
couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just the mages she needed to
worry about. There were other forces at play. Forces that had been
watching her all along. As the night wore on, Nykara couldn't shake the
warning from her mind. It lingered there like a shadow, darker and
heavier the more she thought about it. A prophecy? A curse? A call to
action? Whatever it was, it was undeniably about her. And the darkness
inside her—it knew it. There was something coming, something she
wasn't prepared for, but it was already set in motion. And the worst
part? She couldn't turn away from it. She needed a distraction. And
Sybil, ever the voice of reason, had already suggested they head to
the bathing chamber. Nykara knew that the tension that had built up
through out the day wasn't going to just disappear, but she couldn't stay
cooped up in her head any longer.
Her magic, restless and wild, demanded an outlet, a break from the chaos. Sybil, on the other hand, was as sharp as ever, her sarcasm and wit a welcomed reprieve from the darkness threatening to engulf Nykara's thoughts. The two of them
made their way through the halls, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the stone walls. The air felt oppressive, heavy with the lingering effects of the night's events. But as they reached the bathing chamber, Nykara felt a brief sense of relief. The heat and steam from the pools made her muscles relax, offering some much-needed comfort. They had barely entered when Sybil let out a low groan. "Oh, this psycho again,"
she muttered, her eyes narrowing as she spotted someone lounging
by the far side of the pool. Nykara glanced over, her eyes sharpening
when she saw who Sybil meant. There, sitting in the shadows near the
edge of the water, was the siren. Her long, blue skin glowed faintly in the dim light, the sleek creature perched on her shoulder—an animal Nykara couldn't quite place.
Sybil's voice was laced with disbelief. "Of all the people... her." Nykara raised an eyebrow, her gaze still fixed on the siren. "You know her?" Sybil sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, from before the academy. We crossed paths a
few times on jobs. She's... not someone you want to mess with. We never really got close, but you don't forget her once you've seen her in action." Nykara nodded, recalling the brief, tense encounters they'd had while working as assassins—neither of them ever being able to truly approach her, not with her being a third year student at the time. At the academy, third-years were almost like untouchable royalty.
She'd heard rumors about the siren's dangerous reputation—how she
always worked alone, kept to herself, and never let anyone in.
But none of that stopped her from standing out. Sybil scowled, her gaze
hardening as she looked over at the siren. "She's always had this vibe.
Like she's got something darker under the surface. Never trusted her. I
guess it's her whole 'siren' thing, you know?" The siren was the only
one in the academy who could make everyone around her uneasy—
except for Nykara. To her, there was something... familiar about the
siren. The way she carried herself, that almost knowing glint in her
eyes, made Nykara uneasy, but in a way that felt like a call. The siren's
eyes met Nykara's, and for a moment, Nykara felt an odd pulse of
recognition. But before she could process it, the siren spoke, her voice
like a soft, eerie song. "You've been busy, Nykara."
Nykara stood tall, ignoring the faint warning that skittered through her at the siren's
presence. "Too busy for you, I'm sure," she said, her voice dry. The
siren chuckled, the sound melodic but dangerous. "Not quite. You've
caught my interest. A lot of it." Nykara exchanged a glance with Sybil,
who was already walking toward the far end of the pool. "She doesn't
stop, does she?" Sybil muttered, clearly not thrilled by the siren's presence. Nykara rolled her shoulders, sighing as she tried to relax. "She's
not going anywhere. And we need to hear her out." Sybil huffed but
didn't argue. "Fine. But she'd better have some answers, or I'm out."
Nykara didn't respond. Instead, she slowly approached the siren, feeling the weight of her presence even more now that she was closer.
The creature on the siren's shoulder—not a snake, thankfully—was
something she couldn't identify, but it was clearly just as much a part
of her as Nykara's darker side was to her. The siren tilted her head,
her gaze unfathomable. "You're getting deeper into this than you realize, Nykara. The path you're walking... it's not just dangerous for
you. It's dangerous for everyone." The words hung in the air like a
warning, and Nykara's pulse quickened. "What do you mean?" But
before the siren could answer, there was a sharp rustling sound be
hind them, and a shadowed figure stepped forward from the far corner
of the bathing chamber. Nykara's eyes flashed in surprise. Not now.
It was Zephiron. The siren's gaze flicked past Nykara, her lips curling
into an unreadable smile. Zephiron stepped into the dim light of
the chamber, his presence commanding and unmistakable. His sharp
eyes landed on Nykara, a flicker of something—maybe annoyance or
something darker—crossing his face before he masked it. The air between them shifted, thickening with unspoken words, a palpable tension hanging like a storm cloud. "I see we've got company," Sybil muttered under her breath, settling herself into the far corner of the pool
with a defiant glare. She had always been the type to roll with the
punches, but even she wasn't immune to the weight of Zephiron's presence. Zephiron's voice was low, and his words came with an edge.
"What's going on here, Nykara? I trust this isn't another incident you're
getting involved in?" Nykara stiffened, her posture not quite as relaxed
as it had been moments before. The siren, too, seemed to recognize the
subtle shift, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if she, too, was assessing the situation. "Just enjoying a little peace and quiet," Nykara
said, though it was clear she wasn't fooling anyone.
"What brings you here, Zephiron?" His eyes didn't leave hers. "I could ask you the same
thing," he replied, his voice laced with irritation. "I expected you to be
in class, not... here." Nykara's eyes narrowed in response. "Not all of
us are obsessed with the upcoming ceremony." The sharp retort was
out before she could stop it, and she watched as it landed squarely
on Zephiron's chest, his expression hardening even further. For a mo
ment, there was only silence. The siren, sensing an opening, leaned
forward slightly, her voice quiet but cutting. "You should be careful,
Nykara. You're not the only one here with a stake in what's happening."
Zephiron shot the siren a pointed look. "You seem to know a lot
about my academy's business, don't you?" Nykara's gaze flicked be
tween the two, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand
up. The siren's cryptic words echoed in her head: "The path you're
walking... it's dangerous for everyone." Before she could ask what the
hell was going on, the siren spoke again, her voice like a song laced
with warning. "There are forces at play here—forces beyond the academy's
walls. You're already entangled in them, Nykara. The question
is whether you'll realize it before it's too late." Zephiron's jaw tight
ened, and he took a step forward, his voice low and firm. "Don't listen
to her, Nykara. She doesn't know what she's talking about." But
Nykara felt the weight of the words, a stirring deep within her—a pull
from something darker that she couldn't quite explain. She glanced at
Sybil, who was now watching with a mixture of concern and curiosity,
but the warning in the siren's voice resonated with something deep
inside her.
"I don't think she's wrong," Nykara said quietly, her gaze
locked on Zephiron. Her voice was steady but laced with an edge
she hadn't intended. "There's more going on than just the ceremony,
Zephiron. More than you're letting on." Zephiron's eyes flashed, and
for a brief second, Nykara saw something other than annoyance in
them—something dangerous, something that made her pulse race. Be
fore she could say another word, the siren rose, her glowing blue skin
casting an ethereal light in the dimroom."Trustyourinstincts,Nykara.
But don't let them consume you," she warned, her voice slipping into
that same eerie song-like tone. Nykara turned away, heading toward the
pool's edge, trying to calm the tempest brewing inside her. Sybil followed closely behind, not sparing Zephiron another glance. As they
slid into the warm water, Nykara couldn't shake the sense that the
siren's words weren't just a warning—they were a countdown.
And she wasn't sure if the clock was already ticking or if it was about to start..