—Narrated by Eli Whitmore.
---
Daylight – Arcane Institute of Mystical Sciences, East Wing Courtyard
The morning mist curled around the stone arches like lazy spirits. I sat under a silverleaf tree, pretending to read but mostly watching the way the breeze stirred the grass.
I hadn't slept much.
Since The Lightshade… everything felt heavier.
My silver ring, now warm on my hand, pulsed softly whenever I wandered too close to the Mirror Hall or the old chapel ruins. The air there… it felt like something was watching. Waiting.
"Trying to make friends with the wind?" Thorne's voice broke my thoughts. Calm. Dry. Comforting.
I looked up.
He stood there in his long coat, shadows curling slightly around his boots like they obeyed him. He had a piece of bread in one hand and a book in the other, somehow balancing both like it was normal.
"Just… clearing my head," I said.
He sat beside me without asking, tore his bread in half, and offered me a piece.
I took it. "Thanks."
"Your magic's waking up. That's why your nights feel longer." His tone was quiet, but sure.
I blinked at him. "You too?"
"Worse," he replied. "I hear things the moment I close my eyes."
He didn't elaborate. I didn't ask.
We just sat there for a moment, eating in silence.
Then I felt it.
Cold.
Not natural cold—but ghost cold.
A shiver crawled up my spine.
Something was near.
"Eli?" Thorne asked, his gaze already scanning the courtyard.
"I feel it," I whispered, standing slowly. "There's something here."
Then… I heard her.
A voice. Faint. Fragile.
> "Help me… I don't want to disappear…"
Thorne stepped behind me, hand ready near his shadowblade. "Where?"
I followed the sensation—through the hedge arch, down a narrow stone corridor that led to the old student archives. A place no one visited anymore.
The door opened with a soft creak.
Dust danced in sunbeams like lost memories.
I stepped inside.
---
The Archive Room – Lower East Wing
Stacks of forgotten books towered like crumbling ruins. I touched one, and it fell apart in my hands.
The presence grew stronger.
And then I saw her.
A girl, no older than sixteen, with pale skin and hair floating like it was underwater. Her uniform looked… decades old.
She hovered near the fireplace, curled in like she was afraid of being seen.
"I see you," I whispered gently.
Her head snapped up.
"You… can hear me?" she asked, voice thin and echoing.
"Yes," I said, stepping forward carefully. "My name's Eli. What's yours?"
"Clara," she said after a pause. "Clara Fernwick. I was a student here… a long time ago."
Thorne moved beside me, keeping his distance. "She's fading," he said. "You need to anchor her, fast."
I nodded. "Clara… I can help. But you have to let me see. Let me feel what you remember."
Clara looked unsure. "It hurts…"
"I know," I said softly. "But it'll pass. I promise."
She hesitated—then reached out.
Her hand touched mine.
The room vanished.
---
Memory Vision – Clara's Last Day
I was no longer me. I was Clara.
Books in my arms. Laughter echoing behind me. A boy named Vincent. Secret meetings. Promises whispered in dark corners of the library.
Then… betrayal.
He took something from me. My grimoire. My trust.
Then the fire.
I tried to stop him. He locked me in. Said no one would believe me.
Flames.
Smoke.
Darkness.
And then… silence.
---
Back to Present
I gasped as I pulled back.
Clara trembled. "I didn't want to die hating him…"
"You didn't," I said firmly. "You were brave. And we'll make it right."
Thorne raised a hand. "I can bind her memory to a soul orb. Keep her story alive—so she doesn't vanish."
"Will it hurt her?" I asked.
"No," Thorne said. "It'll set her free."
Clara gave a small nod.
"I'm ready."
Thorne drew a dark crystal from his coat. Whispered in a tongue older than fire.
Shadows swirled. The crystal pulsed.
Clara began to glow.
She looked at me one last time. "Thank you, Eli. You're not like the others."
And she was gone.
The orb in Thorne's hand pulsed gently with her essence.
---
Later That Day – Training Grounds
Felix was the first to spot me. "You missed alchemy class! And Professor Myra was not amused."
"I was… helping someone," I said quietly.
Luna, polishing her enchanted daggers, looked up. "A ghost?"
I nodded.
Ryker stepped closer, arms crossed. "Your third ghost?"
"Yeah."
"How'd it feel?" Draven asked from the shadows of the training pillars.
I looked at my friends. My strange, powerful, damaged, beautiful group of misfits.
I smiled a little.
"It felt like… the start of something bigger."
Thorne came to stand beside me again.
And I felt that quiet warmth.
Not from magic.
From knowing I wasn't alone anymore.
---
Night – Ravenwing Hall, Room 3C
That night, I wrote Clara's name in my journal. I added a flower sketch next to it. She deserved to be remembered.
Then I sat on the windowsill, watching the stars.
My ring pulsed once.
Soft. Warm.
Peaceful.
Thorne passed by in the hallway and paused at my open door.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Just thinking."
"About her?"
"About all of it."
He nodded once. "You did good, Eli."
And then he left.
But I knew he'd be back.
He always came back.
To be continued...