The ancient tome sitting open on a lecture in the grand antechamber to the great hall of the Infinity Tower was a puzzle no one had solved in five millennia.

Everyone in the tower knew the book. Its legend was whispered in every corner, from the sprawling libraries to the echoing training halls. It was said that the Infinity Tower itself had been built, in part, to house and study this singular enigma. The angular script—so hauntingly beautiful and utterly impenetrable—had taunted generations of witches, archivists, and scholars.

Or at least they had until today. 

For Amriel Vardon, the runes were no longer silent. 

Her cobalt-blue eyes widened as she stared at the page, her pulse quickening with each line her mind unraveled. Her hands trembled at her sides, unsure whether to reach out or keep their distance. Through the protective glass, the symbols seemed to shimmer faintly, as though aware of her scrutiny. They pulsed in her mind, glowing brighter with every word she read.

It wasn’t gibberish anymore. It was a warning—a dark one.

The first line she read sent a chill racing down her spine:

"When the last of the Starlight Witches falls, the door to Eternity will open.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, their weight settling heavily in her chest. Her breath hitched, and the familiar warmth of the room faded into a distant chill. The runes burned in her mind, their intricate patterns weaving themselves into her thoughts like an invasive thread.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to understand.

No one understood. That was why the tome had become an obsession for so many who had walked these halls. Scholars had devoted entire lifetimes to decoding its secrets, their efforts recorded in the annals of the Tower’s history. Her mentor, Master Deryn, had spent years studying it and was fond of calling it an enigma wrapped in shadow.

And now, the enigma spoke to her.

Amriel stumbled backward, her feet clumsy against the smooth floor. She bumped into a figure behind her, startling her further. A familiar voice broke through the haze clouding her thoughts.

“Careful there!” Niamh Leodris steadied her with a firm grip on her shoulders. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost—or worse. Did you fall asleep in the library and drool on the books again?”

Amriel opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck, her voice caught in the tumult of her thoughts. How could she explain what had just happened?

Niamh tilted her head, her grin fading as she took in Amriel’s pallor. “Amriel, seriously, are you okay? You’re pale as a wraith. Did something happen?”

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Amriel shook her head, the denial automatic, though her racing heart betrayed her. “I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Niamh’s eyes flicked to the tome behind its protective glass, her curiosity piqued. “Let me guess—you’ve been staring at that thing too long.” She waved a hand dismissively at the ancient book. “I told you, obsessing over mysteries like this will rot your brain. Come on, let’s go or we’re going to be late. Again!”

Amriel’s thoughts were still tangled in tome’s word as she walked beside Niamh, her feet moving on instinct while her mind spun. The faint echo of the words she had read reverberated in her skull, impossible to ignore.

Niamh, oblivious to her friend's turmoil, carried on with a lively stream of chatter. “Did you hear about the summoning mishap in the Infinity Tower? Apparently, someone tried to conjure a minor fire spirit, and it set half the lab on fire. The instructors are still trying to figure out if it was incompetence or sabotage. Personally, I’m betting on incompetence. Those mageborn’s get cocky with their spells way too early—rookie mistake, really.”

Amriel nodded absently, offering the occasional hum of agreement. Niamh didn’t seem to notice her friend’s silence or the fact that Amriel was gripping the strap of her satchel so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

As they turned the corner and stepped into the tiered classroom, the murmur of other acolytes filled the air. The room was circular, with high, arched windows letting in slants of fading daylight. The desks were arranged in rising tiers around a central platform where Master Fenris stood, his imposing figure framed by a chalkboard covered in intricate diagrams and spellwork.

“Acolyte Vardon, Acolyte Leodris,” his voice boomed, cutting through the chatter like a knife. “You’re late. Again.”

Amriel winced at the sharp reprimand, feeling every pair of eyes in the room turn toward them. She cast a quick glance at Niamh, who shot her a half-apologetic, half-defiant smirk before stepping forward.

“Sorry, Master Fenris,” they mumbled in unison, their voices drowned in the weight of the classroom’s attention.

Fenris, a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and a piercing gaze, arched an eyebrow. His sharp pale green eyes flicked between the two of them. “Take your seats. And try not to make tardiness a habit—again.”

“Yes, Master Fenris,” they chorused, weaving their way through the rows of seated students. Amriel kept her head down, acutely aware of the hushed whispers that followed them.

They slid into their usual seats near the middle of the room. Niamh immediately sprawled comfortably across her chair, pulling out her notebook and quill with practiced ease. Amriel, on the other hand, fumbled with her satchel, her hands still trembling slightly as she retrieved her materials.

“Relax,” Niamh whispered, leaning closer. “Fenris loves the sound of his own voice too much to hold a grudge. Just nod along and pretend you’re enthralled, and he’ll forget all about it.”

Amriel forced a smile, but her mind was far from the classroom. The words she had read, the story that had unfolded in her mind—they wouldn’t leave her alone. What did it mean? And why her?

Her attention snapped back to the room as Fenris began his lecture, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. “Today, we’ll be continuing our discussion on the foundational principles of elemental resonance and its practical applications. For those of you who think you already know everything, I assure you—this is far more complex than setting your lab partner on fire.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the class, but Amriel barely heard it. Her gaze drifted to the open notebook before her, the blank page staring back at her as if mocking her silence. Her mind was elsewhere, lost in the tangled web of secrets that seemed to have chosen her as their keeper.