The moon cast a silvery glow over Starfall Academy, its light filtering through the grand windows of Professor Seraphina Blackwood's chambers. The room was elegantly furnished, with shelves lined with ancient tomes and a polished oak desk cluttered with scrolls and quills. Despite the late hour, Seraphina sat by the window, gazing out at the sprawling academy grounds below.
(How ironic that fate would bring him here, of all places.)
She sipped a glass of crimson wine, her emerald eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and resolve. The soft strains of a melancholic melody played from a magical music box on her desk, filling the room with a haunting ambiance.
Memories flooded her mind—memories she'd spent years trying to suppress. The laughter of children training in the sun-drenched courtyards of the Nightshade estate, the clashing of swords as she guided eager students through intricate drills, and the proud faces of the Nightshade family watching over them.
(They trusted me. They welcomed me into their home, into their family.)
Seraphina clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm. A faint scar ran across the back of her hand, a remnant of that fateful night. She traced it absentmindedly, the physical reminder of her past transgressions.
(And I repaid their kindness with betrayal.)
She stood abruptly, crossing the room to a locked cabinet. With a whispered incantation, the door swung open to reveal a single, sheathed sword. Its hilt was adorned with intricate silver filigree, and a dark gem was set into the pommel. She lifted it gently, the weight of it both familiar and burdensome.
Drawing the blade slightly, she observed the flawless steel glinting in the moonlight. Etched along the blade were ancient runes, a testament to the Nightshade family's legacy.
(The Nightshade heirloom sword... I couldn't leave it behind. It was the least I could do to honor them.)
Her thoughts drifted back to the massacre—the flames consuming the grand halls, the panicked screams echoing through the night, and the shadowy figures orchestrating the chaos.
(I was there. I witnessed it all. And I did nothing to stop it.)
A tear slipped down her cheek, which she hastily wiped away.
(Regret won't change the past. But perhaps... I can prevent history from repeating itself.)
The sudden appearance of Alfred at the academy had unsettled her deeply. His striking resemblance to the Nightshade lineage was undeniable—the same raven-black hair, the piercing gaze that seemed to see through one's soul.
(If he's truly a Nightshade, then he's in grave danger. There are those who won't hesitate to finish what they started all those years ago.)
But another, darker thought crept into her mind.
(Or perhaps... he's here seeking revenge. Maybe he knows what I did, what I failed to do.)
She sheathed the sword and returned it to the cabinet, locking it securely. Turning back to the window, she watched as a lone figure crossed the courtyard below. Even from a distance, she recognized the confident stride of Luna—the mysterious girl who had quickly become close to Alfred.
(And then there's her. Luna. There's something... otherworldly about that girl. She's not what she appears to be.)
Seraphina's reflection stared back at her from the windowpane, the weight of her guilt evident in her eyes.
(I can't allow them to disrupt the fragile peace we've maintained. The truth must remain buried, for everyone's sake.)
She moved to her desk, unrolling a fresh parchment and dipping her quill into an inkwell.
"Headmaster Graves," she began to write, "I am compelled to bring to your attention concerns regarding two of our students, Alfred and Luna. Their presence poses a potential threat to the safety and stability of the academy..."
She paused, tapping the quill against her lip.
(This alone won't be enough. I need to ensure that he leaves the academy, willingly or not.)
An idea sparked in her mind.
(Perhaps if I can provoke him, make him reveal his true intentions...)
She resumed writing, outlining a plan to challenge Alfred's position at the academy through a series of tests and evaluations that would be impossible for a novice to pass.
(If he's the impostor I suspect, he'll fail and be dismissed. And if he truly possesses the Nightshade prowess... then I'll have to take more drastic measures.)
A knock at her door startled her. Rolling up the parchment, she called out, "Enter."
Professor Evelyn Thorne stepped inside, her gaze curious. "Working late, Seraphina?"
"Just attending to some administrative matters," Seraphina replied smoothly, slipping the parchment into a drawer.
Evelyn approached, her eyes scanning the room. "I've heard you've taken an interest in our new students."
Seraphina arched an eyebrow. "As head of combat training, it's my duty to assess all incoming talent."
Evelyn smiled knowingly. "Of course. But I sense there's more to it."
(Trust Evelyn to see through me.)
"I'm merely being cautious," Seraphina said carefully. "Certain students may pose... unique challenges."
Evelyn nodded thoughtfully. "You mean Alfred and Luna."
Seraphina met her gaze. "You've noticed it too, then."
"Hard not to," Evelyn admitted. "There's something unusual about them. The energy around them feels... unsettled."
Seraphina sighed softly. "I believe it's in the academy's best interest to monitor them closely."
Evelyn studied her for a moment. "Agreed. But we must also give them the benefit of the doubt. They're still just children."
(Children who could upend everything we've worked for.)
"Perhaps," Seraphina conceded. "But vigilance is key."
Evelyn placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Try to get some rest. We can discuss this further at the faculty meeting tomorrow."
"Thank you, Evelyn. I will."
As the door closed behind her colleague, Seraphina allowed her composed façade to slip.
(Rest? How can I rest when the shadows of my past are closing in?)
She moved to the fireplace, watching the flames dance and flicker.
(If only I had acted differently that night. If only I had the courage to stand against them.)
The guilt weighed heavily on her, but she steeled herself.
(No more hesitation. I must protect the academy, no matter the cost.)
Returning to her desk, she penned a final note, this time addressed to a contact outside the academy.
"Your presence is required. The last Nightshade has resurfaced. Immediate action is necessary."
Sealing the letter with a wax stamp bearing an unfamiliar insignia, she whispered an incantation. The letter folded into itself, transforming into a small, black raven that flew out the open window and into the night.
(I won't fail again. This time, I'll make things right.)
She extinguished the candles, leaving the room bathed in shadows.
"Alfred," she murmured into the darkness, "I don't know if you're a threat or a victim, but I can't take any chances."
(I will do everything in my power to remove you from this place.)
As she lay down, sleep eluded her. The faces of the Nightshade family haunted her closed eyes—their trust, their warmth, and ultimately, their demise.
(Forgive me.)
The moon drifted behind a cloud, plunging the room into deeper darkness. Outside, the raven soared toward an unknown destination, carrying with it the weight of Seraphina's desperate resolve.
Unaware of the storm brewing around him, Alfred slept peacefully in his dormitory, dreaming of new beginnings and friendships. Meanwhile, Luna, ever observant, sensed the subtle shift in the academy's atmosphere.
(Something's amiss.)
Perched on the sill of her open window, she gazed toward the faculty quarters.
(The threads of fate are tightening. This should be interesting.)
With a faint smile, she whispered to the night, "Let the games begin."