The tension that had once subtly crept through the halls of Durmstrang had now settled in every corner, like a thick fog that refused to lift. Fear whispered through every conversation, and even those who normally reveled in dark magic had grown cautious. Dorian felt it every time he entered a room—the way people stiffened, the way they spoke in hushed tones. There was an underlying current of suspicion that wove through the students like an invisible thread, binding them all to the mystery of Kara's death.
But Dorian knew something more was stirring beneath the surface. His thoughts were still occupied by the rumors he had overheard about Kara's body being found in the dungeons, traces of blood left behind. He'd pushed aside the idea of it being more than an accident, convinced that it was Kara's own dangerous pursuits that had brought about her demise. After all, she had danced too close to the fire. But as days passed, more whispers surfaced.
It was during one of these seemingly uneventful days that another ripple hit Durmstrang—a new death. This time, it wasn't a high-profile student like Kara, but a boy named Jannik—a quieter, less prominent figure who mostly kept to himself. Jannik was someone most students hardly noticed, but the rumors quickly spread that he had been the one to find Kara's body in the dungeons.
"Have you heard?" a girl whispered in the back of class, barely audible over the noise of students settling into their seats. Dorian, seated near the middle of the room, caught her words.
He strained to hear the conversation, pretending to read his notes while keeping an ear on their whispers.
"They found Jannik. Dead," another voice said, trembling slightly. "No one's saying how he died, but... there was blood. They say he was the one who found Kara's body first."
The room seemed to grow colder at that moment. Dorian's hand tightened around his quill, but he kept his face expressionless. His mind, however, was racing. This was more than just a coincidence. Two deaths, both involving Kara—one, her own mysterious death, and now the person who had found her. Durmstrang's walls were closing in with secrets, and the fear was palpable.
"Do you think someone killed him?" another student whispered nearby, a boy with pale skin and wide, nervous eyes.
"I don't know... but the professors are talking about it," came the whispered response. "I saw them near the dungeons again this morning."
Dorian kept his gaze steady on his parchment, though his thoughts were spiraling. First Kara, now Jannik. If this was all connected—and it surely had to be—then someone was orchestrating something dangerous. He wondered if Yaxley had returned to play his games, slipping through the shadows and stirring unrest. Or perhaps another student had seized the opportunity, striking when the school was most vulnerable.
He could feel the weight of the stares around him—the way the room seemed to hum with paranoia. But in the midst of it all, Dorian had something else to consider: if this was truly a deliberate act, then someone was weaving a web of deception, and the victims were part of a larger scheme. And yet, he had no inkling of who might be behind it.
The lesson went on, but Dorian's mind wasn't on it. His thoughts kept flicking back to Kara's death, to Jannik's sudden demise, and the growing sense that whatever was happening was spiraling out of control. And in the center of it all, he felt like a chess piece on a board, being moved by an unseen hand.
Later, as Dorian made his way down the hall toward his dormitory, he caught sight of Lyra standing near one of the large arched windows, her face turned to the darkening sky. She had been distant since Kara's death, her usual sharpness replaced by a quiet wariness that made Dorian uneasy. She was still his ally, still the person closest to him, but something had shifted.
He approached her, noting the slight tension in her shoulders as she heard his footsteps approach. She didn't turn around immediately, but her voice carried to him before he could speak.
"More rumors," Lyra said softly, her breath fogging the glass. "They're saying another student was found dead."
Dorian stepped beside her, following her gaze out over the frost-covered grounds. "I heard. Jannik."
Lyra nodded, her eyes still distant. "He was the one who found Kara, wasn't he?"
Dorian hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "That's what people are saying. But I don't think his death was random."
Lyra finally turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "You think someone killed him?"
"I think there's more to this than we realize," Dorian admitted. He had wanted to brush it off as coincidence, but now, with a second death so closely tied to Kara's, it was impossible to ignore. "Whoever's behind this is doing more than just creating chaos. There's a purpose here."
Lyra's eyes narrowed slightly. "And what do you think that purpose is?"
Dorian met her gaze, his mind spinning through possibilities. "I'm not sure. But we can't afford to be distracted by it. Whoever they are, they're using fear to their advantage, and the longer this goes on, the more dangerous it becomes."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging in the air between them. The deaths were only the beginning—Dorian could feel it. Durmstrang was unraveling, and whoever was behind it was playing a long game.
"I've been thinking," Lyra said finally, her voice low. "With all the suspicion, all the accusations flying around... someone is going to take the fall for this. The professors are already looking for a culprit."
Dorian frowned. "You think they'll accuse someone?"
"They'll have to, eventually," Lyra said. "They won't let this go unsolved. And if they can't find the real culprit... they'll settle for someone who fits the narrative."
Dorian's mind raced. It was true—Durmstrang couldn't let this go on without addressing it. Two dead students were too many, and the professors would want answers, even if they had to create them.
"Who do you think they'll target?" he asked.
Lyra hesitated, her eyes flicking over the students walking past them in the hallway. "It could be anyone... but I have a feeling it'll be someone close to Kara."
Dorian considered this. Someone close to Kara. Kara had been a known figure in Durmstrang's upper circles, and many students had wanted to be in her good graces—or at least out of her way. But Kara hadn't been easy to get close to, and whoever had orchestrated her death had done so with precision.
The pieces were falling into place, but slowly, and Dorian knew they would have to play this carefully. Whoever was behind this would want the blame shifted onto someone else—a scapegoat. And if they weren't careful, that scapegoat could be anyone.
"Keep your ears open," Dorian said quietly. "If someone's going to be blamed, we need to know who, before it's too late."
Lyra gave a slight nod, her face still expressionless, though Dorian could sense the tension in her. She was hiding something—he could feel it—but whatever it was, she wasn't ready to share it yet. And for now, Dorian would have to trust that she was still on his side.
As they parted ways, Dorian couldn't shake the feeling that things were escalating faster than he could control. The dark magic inside him was restless, pushing him to act, but he knew that one wrong move could unravel everything.
He would have to stay ahead of whoever was playing this deadly game. And he couldn't afford to let his guard down—not now, when the stakes were higher than ever.
By the next morning, the entire school was buzzing with rumors. The professors had begun tightening their watch over the students, and the whispers of Jannik's death had spread like wildfire. The tension was palpable, and Dorian could feel the shift in the air as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Students sat in clusters, their voices hushed but urgent as they exchanged theories about who might be behind the deaths. Some thought it was a rogue student, others believed it was a professor, and a few even suggested that dark forces outside Durmstrang had infiltrated the school. But no one had any concrete answers.
As Dorian passed one group of students, he caught a snippet of conversation that made his blood run cold.
"They think it might have been someone close to her... someone who wanted her power," a boy was saying in a low voice. "Who else could it be?"
"They'll find out soon enough," another replied. "You can't hide something like this forever."
Dorian clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing. The blame was shifting, and it was only a matter of time before someone was singled out. But who? And how would he make sure it wasn't him—or worse, Lyra?
The game was growing more dangerous, and Dorian knew he was running out of time. If he wanted to stay ahead, he would need to act swiftly, find the true culprit, and stop them before Durmstrang's halls were drenched in even more blood.
And as the dark magic whispered its temptations in his ear, Dorian knew that the cost of failure would be more than just power—it would be his life.