Today, I felt a disturbance, and not just the usual Academy chaos of misplaced spellbooks or alchemy mishaps. Something far deeper, like the ground itself was vibrating beneath my feet, though no one else seemed to notice.
After the incident with the orb earlier, I couldn’t focus on my evening classes. Even the lecture on Summoning Arts—one of my favorites—passed by in a blur. I could barely pay attention as Professor Garnet discussed the complexities of dimensional gates. My mind kept drifting back to the vision, the shadows, and the figure cloaked in darkness.
After dinner, I found myself wandering the Academy grounds. The gardens, usually a place of peace with their magically enhanced flora glowing under the moonlight, felt different tonight. The air was colder, sharper, as if something was lurking in the shadows just out of sight.
Mira found me sitting by the fountain, staring at the water’s reflection, trying to make sense of everything. She looked just as uneasy as she did this morning. Without a word, she sat beside me, her presence a quiet comfort. “I felt it again,” she whispered. “The Barrier’s energy. It’s slipping.”
We both sat there for a moment, staring at the shimmering surface of the fountain, its enchanted waters reflecting the Academy’s distant towers. I could sense her tension, the same kind I felt pulsing inside me. It was then that I made the decision.
“I touched something today,” I told her, breaking the silence. Her eyes widened, a flicker of curiosity mixed with caution crossing her face. I explained everything—the library, the orb, the visions. As I spoke, I could see her shadowy magic stirring, reacting to my words like it always did when she felt anxious.
She stayed quiet for a moment after I finished, absorbing it all. Then, with a calm voice, she said, “We need to speak to Professor Astrid.” Astrid was the Academy’s expert on magical artifacts, and Mira trusted her with any supernatural anomaly. But a part of me wasn’t sure we should involve anyone else yet. The orb… it felt like it was meant for me, and only me.
Before I could voice my doubts, a low rumble interrupted our thoughts. The ground beneath us trembled, just slightly, but enough to send a shock through the air. It wasn’t natural.
Mira and I shot to our feet. The tremor passed quickly, leaving the night eerily still, but the message was clear: something was coming.
We rushed back toward the main building, my heart racing. As we reached the entrance, Jason was already there, leaning casually against one of the pillars. “Felt that, didn’t you?” he asked, with his usual nonchalance, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry. “The Barrier’s losing its grip,” he muttered, more to himself than to us.
Together, the three of us headed toward the Tower, where the Academy’s strongest wards were anchored. We had to know what was happening, and if the Barrier was failing, we needed to act fast. There wasn’t time to wait for answers from the professors.
As we approached the Tower, I felt the energy pulsing stronger than ever. It was chaotic, frayed at the edges, like an ancient web that had been stretched too thin. This was no accident—someone, or something, was breaking through.
And whoever it was… they were getting closer.
Tomorrow, we might not have the luxury of pretending this is just another Academy problem. Tomorrow, everything could change.
