The atmosphere within Durmstrang had shifted. The tension that had permeated the halls after Kara's death had not dissipated—it had only deepened. Everyone was on edge, even the professors, their eyes constantly darting over students, looking for some sign of what had truly happened. But no one spoke openly. The silence surrounding Kara's demise had become a dark shadow that followed every student's step.
For Dorian, it was different. The shadow of Kara's death wasn't just an external weight—it was something he carried within himself now, alongside the dark magic that had been growing more potent with each passing day. The whispers of the ancient power coursed through him, louder and more insistent than ever. His control over it had strengthened, but so had its influence over him. The two forces were locked in a battle within him—one of dominance and control—and Dorian wasn't certain which would emerge victorious.
The artifact—mentioned in the ancient tome he had discovered—was now at the forefront of his mind. It was the key to unlocking his full potential. If what the book claimed was true, it could grant him unparalleled power, far beyond anything he had yet encountered. But it was dangerous. The book had made that clear, too. The artifact would not bow easily to its wielder; it would require mastery, control, and sacrifice.
Dorian had no illusions about the dangers. He had seen what the pursuit of power had done to others—his father, his mentor Estera, and most recently, Kara. But the temptation was too great. The whispers in his mind told him he was different, that he was stronger, that he could succeed where others had failed.
He could feel the weight of the artifact calling to him. It wasn't a physical call, but something deeper, something resonating with the dark magic that pulsed through his veins. He needed to find it. And soon.
The days that followed his discovery in the library were filled with a constant sense of urgency. The usual routine at Durmstrang seemed almost trivial to Dorian now. Classes were a distraction. Students, even those he had previously manipulated or toyed with, became insignificant. His focus had narrowed, and all that mattered was the path ahead.
Lyra, as always, remained a constant presence, though she had grown more watchful, more guarded. Her words from the night in the library still echoed in his mind.
"Whatever you found... it's dangerous."
Dorian had brushed off her concerns, but he knew Lyra wasn't one to speak idly. She had known Kara better than most, and she had seen firsthand the recklessness that had led to Kara's downfall. But Dorian was not Kara. He reminded himself of this every time doubt crept in. He was more prepared, more powerful. He had learned from the mistakes of those who came before him.
Still, Lyra's watchfulness unsettled him. There was something different about her lately, a quiet intensity that he couldn't quite place. She seemed more invested in his every move, more attuned to the shifts in his moods and thoughts. At times, it felt as though she knew what he was planning before he did.
Yet, despite the strange tension that had developed between them, Lyra remained his closest ally. She was the only one who understood him, who saw the ambition that drove him without judgment. But there was also a distance between them, a gap that had formed since Kara's death—a gap Dorian couldn't bridge, no matter how hard he tried.
One afternoon, as he walked through the winding corridors of Durmstrang, lost in thought, a voice called out to him.
"Dorian."
He turned to see Matthias Borgin, standing by the window with a tense expression. Matthias was one of the few students at Durmstrang who had managed to remain relevant in Dorian's world. Though he was ambitious like the rest, he lacked the same ruthless edge that made Yaxley or Kara dangerous. Still, Matthias had his uses.
"What is it, Borgin?" Dorian asked, his tone sharp with impatience.
Matthias glanced around nervously, lowering his voice as he approached. "There's... something you need to know. It's about Kara."
Dorian's interest piqued immediately, though he kept his expression indifferent. "Go on."
"People are talking," Matthias continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "The professors... they're suspicious. And some of the students think there's more to her death than what's being said. They're starting to ask questions."
Dorian's jaw tightened. He had expected whispers, but he hadn't anticipated that the professors would become involved. "What kind of questions?"
Matthias hesitated, his eyes darting around again as if someone might overhear. "They think... they think someone might have killed her."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and dangerous.
Dorian's eyes narrowed, though his voice remained calm. "And who do they suspect?"
Matthias swallowed hard. "No one knows for sure, but there are rumors. People are talking about the dark magic she was involved in, and... some of them think you might know something."
Dorian's mind raced, though outwardly, he gave nothing away. "Is that what you think, Borgin?"
Matthias paled slightly at the question, shaking his head. "No, no. Of course not. I know you—if you wanted her dead, you wouldn't have been so... quiet about it. But there are others who think otherwise. And with Yaxley still skulking around, stirring up trouble, it's only a matter of time before things get worse."
Yaxley. Of course, he would still be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dorian had thought he'd dealt with him after their last confrontation, but Yaxley had a way of slipping through the cracks, always managing to stay just out of reach.
"I'll deal with Yaxley," Dorian said, his voice cold. "And as for the rumors—let them talk. Kara's death is unfortunate, but I have more important matters to attend to."
Matthias nodded quickly, sensing that the conversation was over. "Right... of course."
As Matthias turned to leave, Dorian's gaze lingered on the window, his mind already returning to the artifact. The rumors, the suspicions—they were distractions. He couldn't afford to lose focus now. Kara's death had set things in motion, and he needed to stay ahead of it all.
That night, Dorian lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as the dark magic whispered in his mind, louder than before. The artifact was close. He could feel it calling to him, pulling him deeper into the shadows. The book he had found had only given him fragments of information—pieces of a larger puzzle that he had yet to fully understand.
But he would find it. He had to.
As he closed his eyes, the darkness swirled around him, and for the first time, he let it in fully. No more holding back, no more hesitation. This was the path he had chosen, the path that would lead him to greatness.
But in the deepest corners of his mind, a flicker of doubt remained.
How far are you willing to go, Dorian?
The next morning, the mood in class was noticeably different. Dorian entered the room, his gaze sweeping over the students as they filed in, their conversations hushed and tense. Something had shifted.
He took his seat near the back, waiting for the lesson to begin, but the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken words. Dorian frowned, glancing around. Lyra was seated a few rows ahead, her posture rigid, her gaze fixed on the front of the room. Her usual calm seemed frayed, as if she was holding herself together by sheer force of will.
Before Dorian could approach her, a voice from behind caught his attention.
"Have you heard?" a girl whispered to her friend, her voice barely audible over the low hum of the room.
"Heard what?" the other girl replied, her tone equally hushed.
"Kara's death... it wasn't an accident. They found... something."
Dorian's heart skipped a beat, though he kept his face neutral. He shifted slightly in his seat, straining to hear more without drawing attention.
The girl's friend gasped softly. "What did they find?"
"I don't know the details, but some students saw a group of professors near the dungeons last night. They're saying there was... blood."
Dorian's blood ran cold. His mind raced, piecing together the fragments of conversation. Blood? In the dungeons? Kara's death had always seemed suspicious, but if there was evidence... someone was playing a dangerous game.
The professor entered the room, cutting off the conversation as the class settled into silence. Dorian barely heard the lecture as his thoughts spun in a dozen different directions. Kara had been involved in something dangerous, and now it seemed her death had left more questions than answers.
After class, Dorian caught up with Lyra as the students began to file out. She looked at him, her eyes guarded.
"Something's happening," Dorian said quietly, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "The rumors are spreading faster than we expected."
Lyra's expression didn't change. "I know."
"You know more than you're telling me, Lyra," Dorian pressed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What aren't you saying?"
For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes flickering with something—fear, perhaps, or guilt. But it passed quickly, and when she spoke again, her voice was calm and measured.
"I don't know what you want me to say, Dorian. Kara's death is casting a long shadow over this school. But we have more important things to focus on. If you want to survive this... you'll need to stay ahead of everyone else."
Her words were cold, pragmatic. And as much as Dorian wanted to press her for more, he knew she was right. There was no time for suspicion or paranoia now. Not when he was so close to uncovering the truth about the artifact.
As he walked away from Lyra, his thoughts turned once again to the dark magic that pulsed through him. The artifact was out there, waiting for him.
And Dorian would stop at nothing to claim it.