Page 9

Fractura Sigillum

I dashed from Potions class, urgency propelling my every step, as Julian followed closely behind. The haunting echo of that bloodcurdling scream still reverberated in my mind, driving me relentlessly toward its source.

I could hear Julian's footfalls pounding in time to my own frantic heartbeat, his breath quick and determined."

What was that?" he shouted, but I had no answers, only a desperate need to see for myself what terror awaited.

My thoughts raced nearly as fast as my legs, each possibility darker than the last. The sound had come from the far end of the courtyard, and as we drew closer, chaos erupted like a violent storm.

The usually calm space had descended into utter pandemonium.

Students milled about in panic, their voices mingling in a cacophony of fear and confusion.

My eyes widened as I took in the scene: shattered belongings lay strewn across the stone ground, a vivid testament to whatever force had unleashed such violence. Fragments of broken pottery mixed with torn pages and spilled ink, each piece telling the tale of a frantic, brutal struggle.

The air was thick with dust and dread, and amid the jumbled mass of debris, a single discarded boot stood out—its lonely presence painting a stark picture of sudden and disturbing disruption.

I pushed through the mass of panicked students, my mind reeling with questions, my heart refusing to accept the terrible suggestions forming.

Julian was at my side, muttering, "This is mad. Completely mad!"

We wove through the chaos, each step taking us deeper into the eye of the storm until I saw someone stooping beside a discarded satchel.

My breath caught as they lifted it, and I caught a glimpse of delicate topaz embroidery along the side.

Those words sent a chill through my veins: ‘ Melanie Grimwald.’

My stomach dropped, the implications crashing into me with a force that nearly stole my breath. At that moment, it all became horribly clear—this wasn’t a random act of destruction. A student was taken.

Amid the confusion and clamor, a voice rose above the din, desperate and strained: “Melanie Grimwald—where is she?”

The cry echoed in my mind, amplifying the sense of urgency that threatened to overwhelm me. My thoughts spun, grappling with the chaos unraveling around me.

In that instant, a memory pierced through the chaos—a quiet murmur from my raven amulet: Death returns, he searches… It was a cryptic warning, a foreshadowing of this exact moment, and I regretted not realizing it earlier.

Now, as I desperately searched the chaotic crowd, a heavy sense of dread filled my chest. Samael was nowhere in sight.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Headmistress Grimrose’s stern command sliced through the chaos.

“Everyone inside immediately!” she ordered, her voice resolute and unyielding.

The professors hurried to reinstate order, corralling the students with an urgency that made clear the severity of the situation.

"Move in groups! Stay indoors!" they urged, herding us away from the scene of destruction like sheep from the wolf.

Yet as I was shepherded back, one thought consumed me, burning with intensity: Melanie’s disappearance, the cryptic whisper from my amulet, and the sudden absence of Samael wove together a tangled tapestry of mystery and foreboding that I knew, deep in my bones, was just beginning to unravel.

I could not leave it at that. A determination as fierce as the fear thrumming in my veins took hold. Lydia and Leander finally caught up to me in the crowd.

"Elvana, what in the seven hells is happening?" Lydia's voice trembled as she clutched her leather satchel to her chest, knuckles white against the worn material.

"A student was abducted," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. "And I think—I think whatever took her isn't done."

Leander's copper hair caught the dim light as he leaned closer, his freckled face drawn with concern. "You don't mean she's actually been taken? Not just wandered off?"

I gestured toward the scattered debris. "Does this look like someone who wandered off?"

The three of us huddled together as we were herded back toward the main hall, moving against the flow of panicked students. The tension crackling in the air was palpable, like the moment before lightning strikes.

I lowered my voice, pulling them closer. "My amulet... it tried to warn me. And Samael is missing too."

Lydia's grip tightened on her leather satchel. "You can't possibly think Samael had something to do with this?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted, though the suspicion had already taken root. The timing was too perfect, too convenient.

“Hold on, rewind. What do you mean your amulet tried to warn you? Am I missing something here?” Leander’s voice strained against his attempt to whisper.

“I will explain more once we get inside. Let’s find somewhere quiet to talk.”

“There is a study lounge on the second floor of the castle. We can go there.”

We hurried along the winding corridors, the clamor of anxious voices fading behind us as we reached the study lounge on the castle's second floor.

The room exuded an unexpected calm amid the chaos—a sanctuary of quiet elegance. Plush leather couches in deep burgundy and midnight blue were arranged in intimate clusters around antique wooden desks, each scarred with the memories of long-forgotten lectures and secret midnight musings.

Large, ornate paintings adorned the walls, their subjects a mix of regal portraits and enigmatic landscapes, their muted colors lending a solemn gravity to the space. Golden light streamed in through tall, arched windows, casting delicate shadows that danced across the patterned rugs on the floor.

A few students lingered at various sections of the room, whispering amongst themselves.

I sank onto a worn leather couch, its embrace oddly comforting despite the storm of thoughts raging within me. Lydia and Leander joined me, their faces etched with worry and determination.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” Lydia murmured, inching closer to Leander until their shoulders brushed.

Leander gave her a half-laugh, clearly trying to lighten the tension. “Yeah, well, I definitely missed the part of orientation where they warned us about haunted accessories.”

He turned to me, expression curious but skeptical. “So tell us again—what did it actually say? And why is your jewelry speaking in cryptic horror-movie riddles?”

I closed my eyes, letting my breath settle as the words echoed again in my mind. “ Death returns… he searches. ” My voice came out lower than I intended. “It felt… ancient. Like it wasn’t just a message. It was a warning.”

“That still doesn’t explain why the thing talks,” Leander said, gesturing vaguely at my chest. “Most necklaces don’t come with a voice feature.”

Lydia touched his arm, gently redirecting him. “The Vale family has a complicated history with enchanted artifacts,” she said, her voice shifting into something softer and more academic. “I’ve read fragments about them in Sigils & Silence —most scholars call it folklore, but not all of them.”

She dug into her satchel, producing a small, timeworn book with silver clasps. The spine creaked as she flipped to a page marked by a frayed silk ribbon. A hand-drawn illustration showed an amulet strikingly similar to mine.

“Your family made talking jewelry?” Leander asked, raising an eyebrow but leaning in despite himself.

“Not… exactly.” Lydia’s fingers hovered over the faded ink. “The Vale amulets were forged during the Shadow War. Each was meant to protect—but they were also cursed. Some could guide, some could manipulate. All of them were bound to the blood of their creators.”

Leander tilted his head, freckles crinkling with suspicion. “So it’s, what, a magical therapist with a flair for the dramatic?”

I touched the raven pendant at my throat, the metal cold against my fingertips. The smooth smoky quartz seemed to pulse beneath my touch.

“I don’t have any control over it, and the messages it gives me are quite vague.” I hesitated, fingers brushing the edge of the amulet like it might stir again.

“I was walking through the courtyard this morning when it spoke to me.” I dug my nails into the palms of my hands, the sensation calming me.

“That’s when I ran into Samael Norwood,” I said quietly, eyes fixed somewhere past the edge of the table. “He caught me off guard. The way he looked at me… it wasn’t just unsettling. It felt like being seen and hunted at the same time.”

My gaze dropped, heat rising to my cheeks as the memory of his arms flashed through me—steady hands, close breath, too much warmth in too little time. I hated how my body reacted even as my mind reeled.

Leander leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. There was still that trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but his voice was softer now, thoughtful. “You think something about that moment wasn’t just… weird, but wrong ?”

I nodded once, slowly. “It did feel wrong. Not because of the amulet alone, but—” I hesitated. “There was something in his eyes. Like he’s seen things he isn’t meant to speak of. Or done things he’ll never admit.”

Silence settled for a moment between us. The only sound was the soft turn of a page behind Lydia, who had gone still beside us, listening.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I whispered finally, lifting my eyes to meet theirs. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all tied together—Melanie’s disappearance, the amulet’s warning, Samael showing up the exact moment it spoke. And then vanishing again just as quickly.”

I swallowed hard. “It’s like we’re all brushing up against something ancient. Something that’s just beginning to stir.”

As if conjured by our hushed conversation, the study lounge door burst open with such force that several nearby students jolted upright, their books tumbling to the floor.

Bethany Sloane burst into the doorway, breathless, her copper hair a windblown halo around her flushed face. Her Topaz robes clung askew, blouse half-untucked, as if she’d sprinted through the entire castle to get here.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you three!”

Leander straightened from where he sat, his easy posture shifting toward alert. “Bethany,” he said carefully, giving her a nod as he slid Lydia’s book closed with one hand. “You do know doors open quietly too, right?”

She ignored him completely, collapsing into the nearest armchair with a dramatic exhale. Her eyes darted between us, wide and urgent—too urgent. My stomach dropped.

“It’s worse than everyone thinks,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder like the shadows might be listening.

Then she leaned in, lowering her voice. “I was in the library. Hiding. Long story. But I overheard Professors Crowe and Maximort talking about the missing student—the fourth-year. Only… it’s not just her. ”

Lydia froze beside me, fingers curling against the edge of the table. Leander leaned in, brow furrowing.

“Wait,” he said. “You mean… there’s more?”

Bethany nodded, her voice barely above a breath now. “Crowe said she’s the sixth. Not all students. Some were civilians. From the nearby cities.”

Leander swore under his breath.

“Maximort tried to play it down,” Bethany continued, “said they probably wandered off into the Saturnine Woods or ran away. But Crowe—he wasn’t having it. He said it’s something darker. Something we don’t understand.”

Lydia pressed closer to Leander, her voice quiet. “So this isn’t just a pattern… it’s a warning.”

Bethany met each of our eyes in turn. “I don’t know all the details,” she admitted, her voice cracking just a little. “But if we ignore this—whatever’s happening—I don’t think it’s going to stop. I think it’s just beginning.”