Page 16

The Weight of a Name

I woke to a heavy haze of exhaustion, blinking slowly at the dim, grey light filtering through the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room.

My heart sank as I realized that sleep had offered little reprieve from the tumult of my thoughts, which continued to swirl like a storm inside my head, leaving me raw and vulnerable.

Hastily, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cool floor sending a shiver up my spine as I shuffled toward the small wooden wardrobe.

My movements were clumsy and rushed, as if navigating through a thick fog—each step a struggle against the weight of weariness.

I dressed in my freshly pressed uniform, breathing in the scent of lavender and rose oil. I had slept too late for a shower this morning, so a loose braid would have to suffice.

"What a tragic little thing you are, my dear..." the amulet whispered, its voice like velvet threaded with ice, curling against my ear with unsettling familiarity.

I froze outside the ensuite door, clutching the amulet to my skin, the icy metal sending shivers through my spine.

"What do you mean?" I replied aloud, not sure if the Raven’s Echo would even respond.

After a moment of silence, I moved to the sink and turned the tap to the coldest setting it allowed, splashing water on my face.

"Today demands clarity… and a mind unclouded by weakness."

I lifted my eyes to the mirror, studying the tired face that seemed almost alien in the dim morning light.

"Today you will possess neither of those qualities… your thoughts are clouded with unanswered questions, fear, guilt… lust."

The amulet hissed each word as if it were a curse. I glared at my reflection, my heart thudding with a mix of indignation and desperation.

"Are you mocking me? What happened to the helpful whispers you provided me before?" I demanded, my voice a blend of frustration and plea.

For a moment, the silence in the room seemed to deepen, the only sound the distant drip of water and the rapid beat of my own pulse.

Then, as if stirred by my challenge, the amulet’s whisper returned—low and measured—a voice that seemed to echo from a place both ancient and intimate.

"You seek clarity but resist the truths I offer. Your path is tangled with those who carry their own shadows."

I gripped the cool porcelain of the sink, knuckles whitening. “Stop speaking in riddles. If you know something about the disappearances, about Samael, about any of this—tell me.”

A soft, almost amused chuckle vibrated through the metal against my skin. The sound was jarring, like wind chimes in a storm.

"Knowledge freely given loses its power. Some truths must be earned through the fire of experience."

Before I could press further, a knock at my door startled me back to reality. Lydia’s voice filtered through, tinged with impatience.

"Elvana! Are you coming to breakfast? We're going to be late for Ancient Enchantments if you don't hurry!"

"Coming!" I called, hastily grabbing my satchel and books. The amulet fell silent against my skin, its weight suddenly more noticeable than before.

The dining hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter; many students had already finished eating and were preparing to head to their morning classes. Leander and Bethany sat at our usual table, deep in conversation about their studies.

Before I had the chance to say good morning, my foot caught on a loose tile, and I went crashing to the floor. The contents of my satchel spilled across the stone.

"By the gods, Elle, are you alright?" Lydia nearly leapt with fright at the sudden commotion.

Leander jumped from his seat to assist me with my belongings.

"I'm fine," I muttered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I reached for my scattered notebooks. The cool floor pressed against my palms, grounding me momentarily from the whispers that had plagued me all morning.

As I gathered the last of my quills, a peculiar stillness descended over me—a sensation of being observed that prickled at the nape of my neck. The dining hall’s clamor seemed to fade into a distant hum as I slowly lifted my gaze.

Samael stood at the entrance, his tall figure framed by the arched doorway.

His dark eyes, usually alight with quiet intensity, now regarded me with an unsettling coldness.

The shadows cast by his angular features seemed deeper today, carving valleys of distance between us.

His jaw was set, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched me scramble on the floor like some desperate creature.

Gone was the man who had walked with me through the corridors yesterday, whose fingers had brushed mine with such deliberate tenderness it had sent electricity coursing through my veins.

In his place stood someone unfamiliar—remote and guarded, as if overnight a wall of ancient stone had been erected between us.

“Elle?” Leander’s voice broke through the fog, soft but urgent. He pressed my Potions textbook into my hands. “You’ve gone pale.”

I couldn’t look away.

Samael stood a few yards off, motionless in the stream of passing students. Like he didn’t belong to the world moving around him.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, tearing my gaze away. The amulet at my chest had grown heavier, like it sensed him watching too.

Lydia was suddenly at my side, helping me to my feet. Her eyes tracked the same direction mine had.

“Norwood looks like he’s seen a ghost,” she whispered, brow furrowing. “Or like he is one. What the hell happened between you two?”

“Honestly?” I said, voice low as I shoved the last of my things into my satchel. “I don’t know.”

I paused. “He’s been hot and cold with me since the courtyard. Like he’s trying to figure something out.”

Lydia leaned in closer. “Figure you out, you mean?”

I nodded. “Ever since Divination… ever since he saw the serpent in my cup, it’s like he’s convinced I’m hiding something.”

"Aren’t we all, Elvana? For many, the darkness of our past runs deep." The Raven’s Echo taunted.

“Well, aren’t you chatty this morning,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I stood.

Lydia and Leander exchanged a quick glance, visibly confused.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I added, catching their expressions. “The amulet’s being... unusually vocal today.”

Bethany arched a brow. “Right. Because whispering to cursed jewelry is the fastest way to make friends.”

“Since when has anyone at Drakestone been normal?” Leander shot back, though his voice was quieter now. His gaze had shifted.

I followed it.

Samael had moved—no longer frozen in the doorway. He sat at his usual table, flanked by Julian, Vivienne, and Edric. Their heads were bent close in conversation, too focused for comfort.

Vivienne's piercing gaze flicked toward me, her perfectly manicured fingers curling possessively around Samael’s forearm. The gesture was deliberate. Territorial. Something dark and unfamiliar twisted in my chest.

"We should go," Lydia said, tugging at my sleeve. "Ancient Enchantments starts in fifteen minutes, and Professor Blackwood will have our heads if we’re late."

We hurried through the corridors, the morning light filtering through stained glass windows cast kaleidoscopic patterns across the worn stone floors. The scent of aged parchment and morning dew permeated the air—a normally comforting fragrance did little to settle my nerves.

Professor Blackwood's classroom door stood ajar when we arrived, the soft glow of enchanted crystals spilling into the hallway. Inside, the air was thick with incense—frankincense and something more exotic I couldn’t quite place.

Students were already settling at their workstations, carefully removing delicate tools from leather pouches.

"Just in time," Lydia whispered as we slipped into our seats.

Blackwood was arranging various artifacts on her desk with meticulous precision. Her silver-streaked hair was twisted into an elaborate knot, secured with what appeared to be a bone hairpin.

I slid into my usual place beside Lydia, setting my satchel on the floor. The classroom filled quickly, the scent of incense growing stronger as more students entered.

My eyes darted involuntarily to the door when Vivienne stepped through the threshold.

“You’re at odds with half the campus today,” Lydia whispered, leaning closer. “Vivienne’s practically carving daggers into your back with her eyes.”

I returned my gaze to the textbook, but I could feel Vivienne's eyes burning into me. The tension in the room seemed to thicken the air itself, making it difficult to breathe.

Professor Blackwood dropped a text flat on her desk, the sound reverberating through the room with unnatural resonance.

"Today we will work with protective enchantments. In light of recent... concerns, the faculty believes these skills may prove particularly valuable."

A murmur rippled through the class. Everyone knew what concerns meant—the disappearances that left empty seats and whispered theories in their wake.

After a pause that seemed to stretch the tension even further, Professor Blackwood fixed her eyes on me.

"Elvana, would you kindly demonstrate the protection spell outlined in your textbook? Use the ancient runes provided."

A collective intake of breath rippled through the class.

My heart pounded in my chest as I rose, clutching my textbook with trembling fingers.

I tried to steady my voice and hands as I stepped toward the front of the room, acutely aware of the heavy, scrutinizing gaze of every student.

Even Lydia and Bethany’s supportive smiles couldn’t completely quell the rising apprehension within me.

Before I could begin, a sharp voice sliced through the charged silence.

Vivienne stood abruptly, her posture stiff with barely contained disdain. Her dark eyes sparked like embers.

“No one should trust a Vale to cast a spell like that,” she said coolly, voice cutting through the room like frost. “She’ll curse it—just like her ancestors did during the Shadow War.”