The Thylacea common room buzzed softly with the low murmur of students, most huddled in groups, sharing whispered speculations about the ongoing lockdown. Soya leaned against the back of one of the oversized chairs, flipping absently through the pages of his sketchbook. Beside him, Davonte sat perched on the armrest, juggling a small enchanted orb with casual flicks of his wrist.

“We’re going to lose our minds if we stay cooped up like this much longer,” Davonte muttered, breaking the silence between them.

Soya glanced up, his expression uneasy. “It’s only been a day.”

“Feels longer,” Davonte replied, letting the orb bounce once before catching it. “And I’m betting tomorrow’s not going to be ‘back to normal,’ no matter what that letter said.”

Draven, seated in his usual spot near the fireplace with his journal open, glanced up from his notes. “Your skepticism is justified. The likelihood of a return to routine under the current circumstances is... slim.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Draven,” Davonte said dryly, tossing the orb higher. “But yeah, you’re probably right.”

Soya sighed, lowering his sketchbook onto his lap. “So what do we do? Just sit here and wait for someone else to fix everything?”

Davonte’s gaze flicked to Draven. “What do you think, genius? You’re the planner.”

Draven leaned back, his gray eyes sharp as he considered the question. “Given the professors’ apparent reluctance to share information, our options are limited. However, the lack of transparency suggests they’re protecting something—or someone.”

“Like Eliza,” Soya murmured, his voice quiet.

Draven nodded. “Exactly. And if her disappearance is connected to the basilisk and the creature, it stands to reason the events are part of a larger plan.”

Davonte caught the orb mid-air and held it still, his expression serious. “We can’t just sit here. If we don’t start looking for answers, who will?”

Soya hesitated, his fingers tracing the edges of his sketchbook. “The professors told us to stay put. If we get caught—”

“We won’t,” Davonte said firmly, his grin returning. “We’ve snuck out before. We can do it again.”

Draven closed his journal with a deliberate motion, his expression unreadable. “If you’re serious about this, we’ll need more than just determination. Planning and precision will be crucial.”

Soya looked between the two of them, uncertainty warring with the growing need to act. “You really think we can figure this out?”

“We have to try,” Davonte said, his silver eyes gleaming with resolve. “For Eliza. For everyone.”

Draven adjusted the quill tucked behind his ear. “If we’re careful, we may find the answers we seek without drawing undue attention. But time is not on our side.”

Soya took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Davonte clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. Let’s make a plan.”

As the three of them huddled together, their voices low but determined, the unease of the lockdown gave way to a flicker of purpose.

Davonte grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a quill, his handwriting hurried and uneven as he began scribbling notes.

“Alright,” Davonte said, twirling the quill between his fingers. “First problem: getting out of here without the prefects or anyone else noticing.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Soya muttered. “The prefects are stationed at every exit, and the common room door is warded to alert them if anyone sneaks out.”

Davonte groaned, dropping the quill dramatically. “So, we’re trapped. Great start.”

Draven, sitting with his hands clasped and his face calm, leaned forward slightly. “Not necessarily,” he said in his usual monotone. “While I’m unfamiliar with Austramore’s layout, it stands to reason that a castle of this age would have concealed passages or alternate routes. Older magical institutions often do.”

Davonte raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly would we find one of these secret passages? You’ve been here, what, three days?”

“Correct,” Draven said matter-of-factly. “Which is why I’m relying on logic rather than experience. Have either of you heard rumors about hidden corridors or unexplored areas of the school?”

Soya hesitated. “There are stories, sure. But most of them are just that—stories. Like the one about the hidden staircase in the library or the tunnel behind the tapestry in the east wing.”

“Have you ever checked them?” Draven asked, his sharp gray eyes flicking between the two.

“No,” Soya admitted. “We always assumed they were just old rumors.”

“Then perhaps it’s time to investigate,” Draven suggested. “If even one of these passages exists, it could provide the means to leave the common room unnoticed.”

Davonte nodded slowly, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright, I like it. We scope out one of these spots, see if it pans out. If it doesn’t, we figure out something else. Worst-case scenario, we’re still stuck here.”

“Agreed,” Draven said. “But we’ll need to plan carefully. If we’re caught wandering around without a proper reason, the consequences could be severe.”

“Right,” Soya said, his brow furrowed in thought. “So where do we go once we’re out? We can’t just wander aimlessly.”

“The second floor,” Davonte said immediately. “That’s where that thing chased us. If it’s still around, we need to know.”

“And the lake,” Soya added. “The rune, the basilisk—everything started there. If we can figure out what Sage did to the rune, maybe we’ll understand why all of this is happening.”

Draven nodded, making a quick note in his leather-bound journal. “A logical progression. Start with the second floor, then assess the feasibility of reaching the lake. If the grounds are too heavily patrolled, we regroup and reevaluate.”

“And the Whispering Archives,” Davonte said, his tone lowering slightly. “If we’re going to figure this out, we need more than guesses and rumors. There’s got to be something in the Archives about creatures like that thing we saw—or about Sage and Sevrin.”

Draven tapped his fingers against the journal. “A fair point. But the Archives are heavily monitored, and any attempt to access them would require precise timing. It’s a high-risk move.”

“Everything we’re doing is high-risk,” Davonte pointed out. “Might as well go big.”

Soya chewed his lip nervously, his gaze flickering between his two companions. “What if we get caught? What if... this is too big for us to handle?”

Draven’s gray eyes met his, calm and unwavering. “Caution is necessary, but so is action. If we don’t at least try to understand what’s happening, we’ll remain powerless—and so will everyone else.”

Davonte grinned, clapping Soya on the shoulder. “He’s right, mate. We’ve got to do something. And with Mr. Brainiac over here, we might actually have a shot.”

Draven didn’t react to the nickname, instead focusing on the parchment. “We’ll meet here tonight at midnight. Bring your wands, and be prepared for any unexpected complications.”

Soya took a deep breath, nodding reluctantly. “Alright. Midnight.”

Davonte smirked, grabbing the parchment and folding it neatly. “This is going to be one hell of an adventure. Let’s just hope we don’t get expelled for it.”

The common room was eerily quiet as midnight approached. Most of the students had gone to bed, the soft sound of crackling firewood in the hearth the only noise breaking the stillness. Soya sat near the window, his sketchbook closed and tucked away in his bag. His nerves were evident in the way his foot tapped rhythmically against the floor, a soft but constant reminder of the risk they were about to take.

Davonte leaned casually against the back of a chair, twirling his wand between his fingers. “Relax, mate,” he said, his voice low but laced with his usual confidence. “We’ve got this.”

Soya shot him a look. “It’s not that simple. If we’re caught...”

“We won’t be,” Davonte interrupted, grinning. “Not if we stick to the plan.”

Draven approached, his steps silent as always. He carried his leather-bound journal under one arm, his wand in hand, and his expression calm. “The room is clear. The prefects are stationed near the main entrance. If we move now, we’ll avoid any unnecessary confrontation.”

Davonte straightened, slipping his wand into his pocket. “Alright, then. Let’s get moving.”

The three of them crept toward the common room door, their movements careful and deliberate. The door loomed before them, its sturdy wood polished to a sheen. Soya hesitated as Davonte pulled a thin piece of parchment from his pocket, unfolded it, and whispered a series of instructions he had jotted down earlier.

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“Step one,” Davonte murmured, pointing to the enchantment above the doorframe. “Draven, this is your show.”

Draven nodded, his piercing gray eyes scanning the intricate web of magical runes woven into the doorframe. He raised his wand and began tracing invisible lines in the air, muttering an incantation under his breath. A soft glow emitted from the runes, growing dimmer with each pass of his wand.

“What are you doing?” Soya whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Disrupting the ward’s detection matrix,” Draven replied without looking away. “It’s designed to alert the prefects if the door opens without permission. By redirecting the enchantment’s focus, it will instead register the door as unopened.”

Davonte smirked. “Translation: he’s making it think we’re still here.”

The glow faded completely, and Draven lowered his wand. “It’s done. The door can be opened without triggering the alarm.”

Davonte reached for the handle, pausing to glance back at the other two. “Ready?”

Soya nodded reluctantly, clutching his wand tightly. Draven gave a small incline of his head, and with that, Davonte eased the door open. The corridor beyond was dimly lit, the torches along the walls casting long, flickering shadows.

“Step two,” Davonte whispered, stepping into the hallway. “We head for the tapestry in the east wing. If that secret passage exists, we’ll find it there.”

The group moved silently, their footsteps muffled against the stone floor. Soya’s heart pounded in his chest as they passed the prefects’ station, the faint murmur of voices filtering through the door. He held his breath, half-expecting someone to burst out and catch them at any moment.

They reached the east wing without incident, the towering tapestry of a regal Tasmanian tiger looming before them. The intricate design shimmered faintly in the dim light, its golden thread glinting as though alive.

“Alright, Draven,” Davonte said, gesturing toward the tapestry. “You’re up again.”

Draven approached, his gaze sharp as he examined the tapestry. He muttered an incantation, running his fingers along the edges until he found what he was looking for—a small, almost imperceptible glyph hidden among the threads. With a flick of his wand, he activated the glyph, and the tapestry shimmered before folding in on itself like a curtain, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.

Soya stared, wide-eyed. “It’s real.”

“Of course it’s real,” Davonte said, grinning. “I told you those stories had to come from somewhere.”

Draven stepped aside, his tone calm. “The passage appears stable, though I recommend caution. It’s likely enchanted to deter intruders.”

Davonte rolled his eyes. “Caution is my middle name.”

“Sure it is,” Soya muttered, gripping his wand as he followed Davonte into the passage.

The staircase spiraled downward, the air growing cooler with each step. Faint, glowing runes lined the walls, their light just enough to guide their way. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint echoes of their footsteps.

“What do you think this place was for?” Soya whispered.

“Escape route, maybe?” Davonte guessed. “Or a way to move around the castle without being seen.”

Draven’s voice was measured. “Given the age of the runes, it’s likely a defensive measure. An older part of the castle’s design, perhaps predating its current structure.”

The staircase ended abruptly, opening into a narrow corridor. The walls were lined with shelves, each filled with dusty scrolls and ancient tomes. A faint hum of magic lingered in the air, a reminder of the passage’s forgotten purpose.

“Step three,” Davonte said, scanning the corridor. “We figure out where this leads.”

Draven approached one of the shelves, his fingers brushing over the spines of the tomes. “These texts are remarkably well-preserved,” he observed. “They might contain valuable information about the castle’s history—or its defenses.”

“We don’t have time for a history lesson,” Davonte said, glancing over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

They continued down the corridor, the faint hum of magic growing louder as they went. At the far end, they found a heavy wooden door, its surface covered in intricate carvings.

“Locked,” Davonte said, trying the handle.

Draven stepped forward, examining the carvings. “Not just locked—warded. This door requires a specific magical signature to open.”

“Great,” Davonte muttered. “Another dead end.”

“Not necessarily,” Draven said, pulling out his wand. “If I can replicate the signature, we might be able to bypass the lock.”

“Worth a shot,” Soya said, stepping back to give him space.

Draven began tracing the carvings with his wand, muttering under his breath as he worked. The runes on the door glowed faintly, flickering as if resisting his attempts. After a tense moment, the glow stabilized, and the door creaked open.

“Impressive,” Davonte said, giving Draven an approving nod.

Draven didn’t respond, his focus on the chamber beyond. The room was small and circular, its walls lined with shelves of strange artifacts. In the center stood a pedestal, atop which rested a small, glowing orb.

“What is that?” Soya asked, his voice hushed.

Draven approached cautiously, his gaze fixed on the orb. “A monitoring device,” he said after a moment. “It’s designed to track magical anomalies within the castle.”

Davonte raised an eyebrow. “And how does that help us?”

Draven glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “Because if this device is active, it means someone else is using it—and they might be watching us right now.”

The room was bathed in an eerie glow from the orb, its faint, rhythmic pulse casting shifting shadows across the ancient walls. The air felt heavy, charged with the faint hum of lingering magic. Davonte paced near the entrance, his wand gripped tightly, while Draven continued examining the orb with meticulous precision. Soya hovered nearby, his nerves on edge, his fingers gripping the strap of his bag as he tried to steady his breathing.

“This thing feels... alive,” Davonte muttered, his voice low. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s not alive,” Draven corrected, his tone calm but focused. “It’s a conduit—a tool for observation. Whoever is monitoring the castle is likely aware of our presence.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” Davonte said, glancing at the dimly lit corridor they had come through. “We’re sitting ducks down here.”

Soya stepped closer to the pedestal, his gaze locked on the glowing orb. “If they know we’re here... do you think they’ll come after us?”

Draven’s gray eyes flicked to him, sharp and calculating. “Unlikely. If this is their monitoring station, they have the advantage. They can watch, wait, and react on their terms.”

Davonte let out a frustrated sigh. “Great. So what’s the plan, genius?”

Before Draven could respond, the faint hum of the orb shifted, growing louder and more erratic. The glow intensified, flickering like a heartbeat under duress. Soya took a step back, his chest tightening with unease.

“What’s happening?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Draven’s expression darkened, his hands moving quickly over the orb. “Something is disrupting the magical field. This isn’t us—it’s external.”

A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the room, the sound vibrating through the stone floor beneath their feet. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the walls around them seemed to tremble. Soya’s heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Davonte said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The rumble grew louder, followed by the distinct sound of stone cracking. Soya turned toward the far wall just as a massive section of it crumbled inward, sending jagged chunks of rock tumbling to the ground. The air was filled with a choking cloud of dust, and through it, a pair of glowing, yellow-green eyes pierced the darkness.

“Oh no,” Soya breathed, taking an involuntary step back.

The basilisk emerged from the rubble, its enormous, serpentine body coiling through the breach. Its scales shimmered with an unnatural iridescence, and its fangs, long and razor-sharp, glinted in the dim light. The creature let out a rattling hiss, its head snapping toward them with terrifying precision.

“Run!” Davonte shouted, grabbing Soya’s arm and yanking him toward the corridor.

The three of them bolted, the sound of the basilisk’s massive body slithering after them filling the narrow passage. The ground shook with each movement of the beast, the air thick with the scent of ancient, damp stone and something far more sinister.

Soya’s legs burned as he sprinted down the corridor, his heart hammering in his chest. The passage seemed to stretch endlessly before them, the faint glow of the runes on the walls their only guide. Behind them, the basilisk’s hisses grew louder, closer, each one sending a jolt of fear through his body.

“This way!” Draven called, veering sharply to the right at an intersection. Soya and Davonte followed, their footsteps echoing in the confined space. The corridor narrowed, the walls pressing in as if trying to trap them.

“We can’t keep this up!” Soya shouted, his voice strained with panic.

“We don’t have a choice!” Davonte yelled back, his wand clutched tightly in his hand.

A deafening crash behind them sent a wave of dust and debris hurtling through the passage. Soya stumbled, his foot catching on an uneven stone. He hit the ground hard, his palms scraping against the rough surface. Davonte skidded to a halt, turning back to grab him.

“Get up!” Davonte urged, pulling Soya to his feet. The basilisk’s shadow loomed closer, its massive body undeterred by the narrow space.

Draven stopped ahead, his sharp voice cutting through the chaos. “There’s a junction up ahead—go left! It leads to a larger chamber!”

The three of them sprinted toward the junction, the walls shaking as the basilisk surged forward. Soya could feel the vibrations beneath his feet, the sheer power of the creature relentless and terrifying. They reached the junction, and without hesitation, turned left.

The chamber opened up before them, its high ceiling offering a brief reprieve from the claustrophobic corridors. But there was no time to stop. The basilisk was right behind them, its massive head bursting through the entrance with a roar that shook the very foundation of the castle.

Draven raised his wand, his voice steady as he shouted an incantation. A series of glowing runes appeared in the air, forming a barrier between them and the creature. The basilisk slammed into it with a bone shaking crash, the runes flaring brightly before cracking under the strain.

“It won’t hold for long!” Draven warned, his face pale with exertion.

“Over here!” Davonte shouted, pointing to another passage on the far side of the chamber.

They ran, the sound of the basilisk breaking through the barrier sending a fresh wave of terror through them. The passage twisted and turned, the faint glow of the runes growing dimmer with each step. The air grew colder, the oppressive silence broken only by their ragged breathing and the relentless pursuit of the basilisk.

As they rounded a sharp corner, Soya’s foot caught on a loose stone, and he stumbled again. This time, he fell hard, his bag slipping from his shoulder and spilling its contents across the floor.

“Soya!” Davonte shouted, skidding to a halt.

“Go!” Soya yelled, scrambling to gather his things. “I’ll catch up!”

“We’re not leaving you!” Davonte shot back, turning to help him.

As Soya scrambled to gather his scattered belongings, the ground trembled violently, signaling the basilisk's rapid approach. Its massive tail lashed out, striking with brutal force. The impact sent Soya hurtling through the air, crashing through the crumbling wall beside him. Dust and debris exploded outward as he disappeared into the darkness beyond, the sound of stone collapsing echoing ominously through the chamber.

“Soya!” Davonte screamed, his voice raw with panic.

Draven grabbed his arm, his expression grim. “We can’t stay here! The basilisk is coming!”

Davonte hesitated, his silver eyes wide with fear and desperation. But the sound of the basilisk’s approach left no room for hesitation. With one last, anguished look at Draven, he turned and ran towards the broken wall.

"Let me go!" he yelped, as Draven's grip on his arm tightened, and his feet scuttled on the floor as he was pulled away. Draven sprinted with him down the corridor, his grip not faltering.