The air inside Durmstrang felt heavier than usual as Dorian made his way through the halls. Winter had settled over the castle in full force, but it wasn't just the biting cold that made the atmosphere oppressive. Something was off. He could sense it in the way students huddled together in small groups, whispering in low voices as he passed by, their eyes darting toward him and then quickly away, as if they feared drawing his attention.
Dorian's mind was elsewhere. His thoughts had been consumed by his growing power, by the whispers of the dark magic that still pulsed inside him. It was becoming harder to ignore, harder to keep at bay. It stirred constantly, craving to be used, to be unleashed. And, despite Lyra's efforts to ground him, there were moments when Dorian wondered if he even wanted to fight it anymore.
He hadn't seen Lyra in a few days, though. Their last conversation by the lake had left him conflicted, torn between his ambition and the small flicker of humanity she seemed so determined to keep alive in him. Part of him wanted to seek her out, to find that steady presence again, but another part of him—the part that was growing louder—wanted to bury himself in the power that now flowed through his veins.
But today wasn't about that. Today, something else was amiss.
As Dorian entered the dimly lit classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the tension in the room was palpable. The usual low murmur of students talking before class was absent, replaced by an uneasy silence. Dorian glanced around, frowning. It wasn't just the quiet that was strange—there was a heavy sense of unease hanging in the air.
He took his usual seat near the back, his eyes scanning the room. Yaxley wasn't present, but that wasn't unusual. He often skipped classes when he had his own twisted agenda to follow. But something else was missing—Kara. She always positioned herself near the front, close enough to keep an eye on him, to taunt him with her subtle smirks and manipulative glances. But today, her seat was empty.
Dorian tapped his fingers on the desk, his unease growing. He leaned over to the student sitting beside him, a boy named Viktor Ivanov, someone Dorian barely knew beyond his name and a few brief conversations during group assignments. Viktor wasn't someone Dorian would normally talk to, but something was clearly wrong, and he wanted answers.
"Why is it so quiet in here?" Dorian asked, his voice low but carrying the authority that made most people answer him without hesitation.
Viktor blinked, glancing at him with wide eyes, clearly startled that Dorian had spoken to him. "You don't know?"
Dorian's frown deepened. "Know what?"
Viktor shifted nervously in his seat, lowering his voice even further. "It's Kara... Kara Albrecht."
Dorian straightened, his unease spiking. "What about her?"
Viktor hesitated, looking around to make sure no one else was listening before continuing. "She's dead."
For a moment, Dorian didn't process the words. Dead? That didn't make any sense. He had seen Kara only days ago, standing in front of him, full of her usual arrogance and ambition. Kara was many things—dangerous, manipulative, power-hungry—but she wasn't the type to simply die.
Dorian leaned in closer, his voice sharp. "What do you mean, dead? What happened?"
Viktor swallowed, clearly uncomfortable, but he pressed on. "She... she was found in the dungeons two nights ago. Some of the staff have been trying to keep it quiet, but everyone's heard about it by now. They say it was... dark magic."
The words hit Dorian like a physical blow. Dark magic. That meant it wasn't some accident, some mishap during a ritual. Someone had killed her.
Dorian's mind raced. Kara had enemies, no doubt about that. But who would dare to cross her? She had been skilled—dangerous, even—and well-connected with the darker factions of Durmstrang. Whoever had done this must have been powerful enough to catch her off guard, someone who knew how to wield dark magic with precision.
For a brief moment, Dorian's thoughts flickered to Yaxley, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Yaxley and Kara had their own twisted dynamics, but Yaxley wasn't stupid. He wouldn't risk something as overt as killing Kara within the castle's walls. No, this was someone else.
But who?
The question gnawed at him as the professor entered the room, but Dorian barely registered the start of the lesson. His thoughts were consumed by the revelation, by the whispers that seemed to have followed him all morning but that he hadn't fully understood until now. Kara's death was a shock—one he hadn't expected—but it also left a strange emptiness in him. She had been a rival, an adversary, someone he had been prepared to deal with on his own terms. But now, she was gone, and with her, the shadow she had cast over him had vanished.
And yet... why did he feel unsettled by it?
As the lesson dragged on, Dorian's mind continued to race. He couldn't shake the feeling that Kara's death was more than just a random act of violence. Someone had wanted her gone, and whoever it was had acted with precision and intent. Was it a move against him? A warning? Or was it something else entirely?
When the class finally ended, Dorian stood and left the room without a word, ignoring the curious glances from the other students. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
As he made his way through the halls, his thoughts kept drifting back to the last conversation he had with Kara. She had been so certain that Dorian was on the verge of embracing the full extent of his power, of letting go of the restraint that Lyra had been trying to instill in him. Kara had pushed him to sever his ties with Lyra, to fully commit to the path of dominance and chaos.
Had her death been the result of that same ambition?
Dorian's steps slowed as he reached one of the less traveled corridors, the shadows closing in around him as he processed the situation. He couldn't let Kara's death distract him from his goals, but he also couldn't ignore the fact that someone had just removed one of his most dangerous rivals from the board. Whoever had killed her had done him a favor—though he had no idea who or why.
The sound of footsteps behind him pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Lyra approaching, her cloak drawn tightly around her against the cold. She moved with purpose, her face calm but her eyes reflecting a depth of thought that mirrored his own.
Dorian's tension eased slightly at the sight of her. Lyra had become something of a constant in his life—a steadying presence when everything else seemed to spiral out of control. She hadn't been around much lately, but somehow, she always appeared when he needed her most.
"Dorian," she greeted softly as she came to stand beside him.
He studied her for a moment, searching her face for any signs that she had heard the rumors. But, as always, Lyra's expression was calm, unreadable.
"Did you hear?" he asked, his voice low. "About Kara."
Lyra's eyes flickered, but her face remained impassive. "Yes. I heard."
Dorian nodded, though something about her calmness unsettled him for a moment. "Do you know what happened?"
Lyra shook her head slowly, her gaze meeting his. "No one knows for sure. There are rumors, of course. Dark magic. But nothing more."
Dorian exhaled slowly, the frustration building inside him. "Whoever did this knew what they were doing. Kara wasn't an easy target."
Lyra's expression remained steady, but there was something in her eyes—something Dorian couldn't quite place. "Whoever it was," she said softly, "they made sure she wouldn't be a problem anymore."
Dorian frowned, turning her words over in his mind. Kara had been a threat, not just to him but to anyone who stood in her way. And now she was gone, leaving behind a void that was both a relief and a mystery.
But as he stood there with Lyra, the weight of Kara's death hanging over him, one thought kept echoing in his mind: What had Kara been after?
What had she wanted from him?
Lyra's voice broke through his thoughts, her tone gentle but firm. "Dorian, you can't let this distract you. Kara may be gone, but there are others—others who will try to take her place."
Dorian looked at her, the conflict in his chest rising again. Lyra was right, of course. Kara's death didn't change the fact that there were still forces at work within Durmstrang—and beyond—that would try to manipulate him, to push him toward paths he wasn't ready to walk.
But now, with Kara gone, Dorian felt more exposed than ever. The game had changed, and he wasn't sure what the next move would be.
"I know," he replied, his voice quiet. "But I'm not going to let them."
Lyra nodded, her expression softening. "Good."
As they stood in the dim corridor, the silence between them thick with unspoken thoughts, Dorian couldn't help but feel that something was shifting—both inside him and within Durmstrang. Kara's death was just the beginning, a catalyst for something far greater.
But for now, Dorian would hold onto the one thing he could still count on: Lyra. Her presence, her steady influence, was the one thing that kept him from falling completely into the abyss.
And for now, that would have to be enough.