Whispers in the Dark
The halls of Tristain Academy were abuzz with speculation.
The pulse of energy from the previous night had not gone unnoticed. The professors dismissed it as residual magic, but among the students, rumors spread like wildfire.
Some claimed an ancient relic had been awakened. Others whispered that a powerful mage had cast a forbidden spell.
But a select few—those who had seen Priyam’s duel, who had felt the weight of his presence—suspected something far more dangerous.
And now, in the depths of the academy’s restricted archives, a shadow moved.
The hooded figure who had been watching Priyam now stood before a desk, parchment spread before them. The candlelight flickered as a gloved hand traced an old, faded sigil.
The same sigil that had appeared on Priyam’s arm.
The figure exhaled.
"So… it has begun again."
With silent precision, they rolled up the parchment and vanished into the darkness.
---
A Warning
Louisa was furious.
For years, she had trained in magic, studied spellcraft, and learned the rules of noble society. Yet here was Priyam—an outsider, a commoner, a supposed familiar—commanding a power that no one could explain.
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And worse—he refused to take it seriously.
"You’re reckless," she snapped as they walked through the academy gardens.
Priyam smirked. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."
"It is a bad thing!" she shot back. "You don’t even know what that mark is, do you?"
Priyam glanced at his arm, still hidden beneath his sleeve. "Not yet."
Louisa groaned. "And that doesn’t concern you?"
He stopped walking, turning to face her.
"Would it change anything if I said it did?"
Louisa hesitated.
His voice was calm, but his golden eyes burned with something unreadable.
"You think I don’t understand the danger," Priyam continued. "But I do. I just don’t fear it the way you do."
Louisa clenched her fists.
"You should," she muttered.
For a long moment, Priyam said nothing. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled.
"Then tell me, Louisa," he said, stepping closer, "are you afraid for me? Or of me?"
Louisa’s breath hitched.
She didn’t have an answer.
---
The Scholar’s Revelation
Meanwhile, in the academy’s main hall, Isabelle d’Este leaned lazily against a marble column, watching a flustered young scholar shuffle through a stack of old tomes.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" she asked, feigning boredom.
The scholar adjusted his glasses. "Lady Isabelle, you asked me to research… unusual magical phenomena, correct?"
"That I did."
"Well," the scholar cleared his throat, "I found something."
He placed an open book on the table, revealing a faded illustration—a man standing amid a battlefield, surrounded by a glowing sigil.
"This symbol," the scholar said, tapping the page, "is incredibly rare. It predates modern spellcraft, even predates the founding of our kingdom."
Isabelle’s emerald eyes flickered with interest.
"And?"
The scholar swallowed. "It’s not magic."
For the first time, Isabelle’s smirk faded.
"What do you mean?"
The scholar’s voice dropped to a whisper.
"This… is something older. Something beyond the understanding of mages. It is a power that does not come from mana, but from the very fabric of existence itself."
He hesitated before speaking the final words.
"Lady Isabelle… if Priyam possesses this mark, then he is no ordinary familiar."
Isabelle leaned back, a slow smile returning to her lips.
"Oh, I know he isn’t."
---
An Unexpected Invitation
Later that evening, as Priyam leaned against a stone wall, watching the academy courtyard darken with the setting sun, a familiar voice reached him.
"You’re attracting quite a bit of attention, you know."
Isabelle.
Priyam didn’t turn. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."
She stepped beside him, her emerald eyes gleaming in the dim light. "On the contrary, I find it… entertaining."
Priyam smirked. "Glad I could amuse you."
Isabelle studied him. "Tell me something, Priyam. If you had the chance to understand the power inside you, would you take it?"
Priyam finally looked at her, intrigued. "You’re offering to help me?"
Isabelle tilted her head. "Let’s just say… I have access to information most don’t. And I do love a good mystery."
Priyam chuckled. "So, this is curiosity, not charity?"
She smirked. "Would you expect anything less?"
He held her gaze for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright. Where do we start?"
Isabelle’s smile widened.
"Meet me tomorrow night in the west wing library. And Priyam?"
"Hm?"
"Come alone."
---
End of Chapter 7