Exams were close enough to taste.
All formal classes had ended. The corridors were quieter now, filled with the soft shuffle of hurried footsteps and the low murmur of revision spells being whispered under breath. The library had become the heart of the castle. Every table was occupied. Every chair claimed.
Scarlett, Daniel, and Tom sat at their usual corner near the tall arched window where pale afternoon light filtered across stacked books.
Scarlett was focused.
Completely focused.
Her notes were arranged in clean lines. Ink neat. Movements efficient. She didn’t look up unless absolutely necessary.
Tom worked differently. He leaned back slightly, one leg folded over the other, flipping pages with an easy rhythm. Casual, but not careless. He absorbed things quickly.
Daniel wasn’t absorbing anything.
His open book hadn’t been turned in twenty minutes.
His eyes stared at the page.
But he wasn’t seeing it.
He was seeing the mirror.
The man.
The still reflection that did not move when he moved.
Scarlett stopped writing.
“You’ve read that paragraph four times,” she said quietly.
Daniel blinked. “What?”
“You’re not here,” she added.
Tom glanced up briefly but said nothing.
Daniel rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Scarlett replied evenly. “If you don’t finish that transfiguration outline, Mr. Savris Lee will personally reduce you to a footstool.”
That earned a faint smile from Tom.
Scarlett softened slightly. “Take a break. Walk. Clear your head. Then come back.”
Daniel tried to refocus.
He couldn’t.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his left shoulder.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Daniel flinched sharply, nearly knocking his book off the table.
“Mr. Cruse,” a calm voice said.
It was Mrs. Elizabeth.
She stood beside him, expression unreadable but not unkind.
“You appear distracted,” she continued.
Daniel swallowed. “Just revision stress, ma’am.”
Her eyes lingered on him longer than necessary.
“Stress can distort perception,” she said quietly. “Be careful what you allow yourself to see.”
Scarlett’s pen paused.
Tom looked up fully now.
Mrs. Elizabeth gave Daniel’s shoulder a light squeeze before stepping away.
“Finish your work,” she added. “You are capable of more than wandering thoughts.”
She left.
Daniel stared after her.
Scarlett leaned closer. “What was that about?”
Daniel shook his head. “Nothing.”
Tom closed his book slowly. “It didn’t look like nothing.”
Before Daniel could answer—
Light approached.
Scarlett’s jaw tightened instantly.
But this time Tom moved first.
Without hesitation, he reached into his bag and placed a small stack of enchanted game cards on the table.
“Deal fulfilled,” Tom said calmly.
Light stopped.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t reach for them.
Scarlett frowned. “Take them.”
Light’s face was pale.
“Not now,” he muttered.
Daniel looked up. “What?”
Light leaned closer suddenly.
His voice dropped to a whisper in Daniel’s ear.
Daniel’s expression changed instantly.
“What?” Scarlett demanded.
But Daniel was already standing.
Light grabbed his sleeve. “Come on.”
They ran.
Scarlett shot up from her chair. “What is happening?”
Tom was already moving. “We follow.”
They pushed through the library doors, weaving through startled students. Light led Daniel down a narrow corridor toward the lower storage wing.
“Light!” Scarlett shouted. “Explain!”
Light didn’t answer.
They reached the storage room.
The door was half-open.
A loud crash echoed from inside.
Daniel didn’t hesitate.
He stepped in.
A werewolf-like creature stood hunched over one of Light’s friends, claws raised mid-strike.
The air smelled sharp. Metallic.
Daniel froze.
The creature turned.
Their eyes locked.
Daniel’s vision blurred.
Sound dulled.
The world tilted.
Something inside him shifted—
When his senses returned, he was lying on the cold storage floor.
Scarlett knelt beside him.
“Daniel!”
He blinked. “What… happened?”
Light stood nearby, pale but unhurt.
“The creature,” Daniel said, pushing himself up. “Where is it?”
Scarlett exchanged a look with Light.
“You started speaking again,” she said quietly.
Daniel’s heart dropped. “Speaking?”
“In that language,” she added. “The one from before. The one we don’t understand.”
Light nodded quickly. “It heard you. It looked… terrified.”
Scarlett’s voice was steady. “Then it ran.”
Daniel tried to stand fully. “I didn’t— I don’t remember—”
He stopped.
“Where’s Tom?”
Scarlett’s eyes flickered.
Light answered first.
“He left.”
Daniel frowned. “Left?”
Light nodded. “It seems he saw something. Then he just… ran. Said it was nothing. Didn’t look like nothing.”
Scarlett’s expression tightened. “He didn’t say a word to us.”
Daniel’s chest tightened uneasily.
They left the storage room shortly after, checking corridors, calling softly for Tom.
Nothing.
Daniel searched the Dracorus common room later.
No Tom.
No sign.
No note.
No explanation.
Something was wrong.
Night
Daniel lay awake for an hour before sitting upright.
Tom had not returned.
The dormitory felt emptier than usual.
Scarlett had checked twice already.
Nothing.
Daniel stood.
He pulled on his cloak.
“I’ll find him,” he whispered to the dark.
The corridors at night felt different.
Longer.
Colder.
Daniel searched the courtyard.
The west wing.
Even the lower staircases.
Nothing.
Then—
Light’s words replayed in his mind.
He saw something.
The storage room.
Daniel turned sharply and ran.
He didn’t make it far.
“Cruse.”
The voice stopped him cold.
The castle’s head boy stood at the end of the corridor, arms crossed.
“Out after curfew?”
Daniel swallowed. “I—”
“Dracorus loses one point,” the head boy stated flatly. “Return to your common room.”
Daniel clenched his jaw but nodded.
He turned.
Halfway down the corridor, something brushed his hand.
He froze.
A folded piece of paper slid partially from his pocket.
He frowned.
He had not put anything there.
Slowly, he unfolded it.
The ink shimmered faintly.
It read:
Five anchors, forged in shadow and law, hold the silent throne in its slumber
and
A lone resonance, long-forgotten, shall stir the ancient pulse within the dais.
The letters pulsed once.
Then settled.
Daniel’s pulse roared in his ears.
Five.
The five indentations in the empty chest.
A lone resonance
Him?
Or—
Behind him, a floorboard creaked softly.
Daniel turned slowly.
The corridor was empty.
But at the far end—
A shadow stood where there should have been none.
And it was not alone.