The next few days at Durmstrang passed in an odd, tense quiet. The weight of the deaths, the accusations, and the uneasy resolution all seemed to settle over the school like a thick fog. Dorian could feel it in the way the students moved, their conversations reduced to hushed whispers. There was still fear, but with the culprit publicly punished, it was fading. Durmstrang was returning to its usual dark equilibrium.
But for Dorian, things were different. He had spent more time with Lyra in the past few days than he had since the beginning of the year. She had become a constant presence in his life, and that thought filled him with an unfamiliar sense of comfort. The friendship between them was solidifying in ways he hadn't anticipated. In the past, anyone who got too close to him felt like a threat, someone who could betray or hinder his ambitions. Lyra, though, had become something else—someone who shared his ambition but also balanced him, kept him grounded when the darkness inside him threatened to pull him under.
He found himself seeking her company more and more, using any excuse to steal a moment together. Whether they were discussing magical theory, planning their next moves within Durmstrang's power structure, or simply walking the grounds in relative silence, it always felt right. There was something about her presence that soothed the constant, gnawing hunger for more power.
But Dorian also knew better than to get too comfortable. No matter how close they were, the ambition that had driven him for so long hadn't left. It couldn't. He had worked too hard, sacrificed too much. His plans for revenge, his quest for power—they weren't things he could simply put aside. They were part of him now, as much a part of his identity as his own name.
It was on the third night after the Headmaster's speech, in the dead of night, that Dorian found himself pacing his room, restless. His thoughts were tangled, pulling him in different directions. The need to keep pushing forward, to uncover more power, was still strong, but Lyra's growing influence in his life had brought new emotions to the surface, emotions that confused him.
Friendship. Trust. What did those things mean for someone like him?
The soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. Dorian opened the door to find Lyra standing there, her dark eyes calm but alert, as if she had sensed his inner turmoil.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked with a small, knowing smile.
Dorian stepped aside, letting her into the room. "Not exactly. Too much on my mind."
Lyra wandered over to the window, looking out into the darkness beyond. "I've been thinking, Dorian. About everything that's happened."
"So have I," he admitted, moving to stand beside her. "This school, these people… they don't understand what's really going on. We've been moving in the shadows for so long, manipulating them, gaining power, but it still feels like we're waiting for something bigger."
"Waiting for what?" she asked, her voice quiet but sharp, cutting through the stillness of the room.
"Change," he replied, his voice low. "The kind of change that shakes the very foundation of the magical world."
Lyra was silent for a moment, her gaze still fixed on the landscape outside. "You're talking about more than just Durmstrang. You're talking about everything."
Dorian nodded. "It's always been about more than this place. Durmstrang is just the beginning. But I'm starting to think… maybe the key isn't in pushing forward recklessly. Maybe it's in playing the long game. Being patient, making the right alliances."
Lyra turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "And you think I'm one of those alliances?"
Dorian met her gaze, the honesty of his next words surprising even him. "You're more than that. You're the only one I trust."
The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Lyra seemed to be weighing his words, considering them carefully before speaking.
"You're not wrong, Dorian," she said finally. "There's something bigger coming. And I think you're going to be at the center of it."
She took a step closer to him, her eyes searching his face. "But you need to be careful. Power isn't everything. You've seen what happens when people let it consume them."
Dorian's thoughts flickered to Ingrid, to Kara, and to the countless others who had been swept away in his wake. He had seen the cost of power, but the hunger inside him hadn't diminished. It never would.
"I'm not like them," he said quietly, but even to his own ears, the words sounded like a lie.
Lyra's gaze softened slightly, and she took another step closer. "No, you're not. But that doesn't mean you can't be careful. You need to choose who you trust wisely. There are people out there who would see you destroyed, people who are afraid of what you're capable of."
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly are you warning me about, Lyra?"
She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. "Thorne Yaxley. He's been quiet lately, but you know as well as I do that he's still watching. He's waiting for the right moment to strike."
The mention of Yaxley sent a surge of cold fury through Dorian. The thought of that conniving snake lurking in the shadows, waiting to undermine him, was enough to reignite his drive. Yaxley had always been a problem, a thorn in his side that needed to be removed.
"He won't be a problem for much longer," Dorian said darkly.
Lyra nodded but didn't seem entirely convinced. "Just be careful, Dorian. You can't fight everyone at once."
He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that everything would be fine, but the truth was, Dorian didn't know what the future held. He had spent so much of his life planning, strategizing, but things had changed. The deaths of Kara and Jannik had shaken Durmstrang, and the school's power structure had become even more precarious. One wrong move could lead to his undoing.
But with Lyra by his side, Dorian felt more capable of handling whatever came next. She had proven herself time and time again, not just as an ally but as a friend. Maybe the only friend he had ever had.
"You don't have to worry about me," he said, his voice softer now. "We'll get through this. Together."
Lyra gave him a small smile, but there was a sadness in her eyes that Dorian couldn't quite place. "I hope so."
They stood there for a moment longer, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a protective cloak. Dorian could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him, but for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel alone under it.
"Goodnight, Dorian," Lyra said softly, turning to leave.
"Goodnight, Lyra," he replied, watching as she disappeared through the door.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Dorian found himself standing in the middle of the room, staring at the spot where she had been. He should have felt relieved, comforted by the conversation, but instead, a sense of unease settled over him. Lyra's warnings about Yaxley were nothing new—he had always known Yaxley was a threat—but there was something else beneath the surface, something in the way she had spoken that didn't sit right with him.
Dorian shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had bigger things to worry about. He moved to the window, staring out into the darkness beyond Durmstrang's walls. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. Somewhere out there, in the shadows, Yaxley was plotting his next move.
And Dorian would be ready.
As he stood there, lost in thought, Dorian felt the familiar pull of dark magic stirring within him. It whispered to him, urging him to embrace its power fully, to cast aside the doubts and uncertainties that plagued him. For a moment, he was tempted. The hunger for power was always there, just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
But then he thought of Lyra—of her warnings, of her unwavering support. She had been right about so many things, and though Dorian wasn't ready to abandon his pursuit of power, he knew he couldn't let it consume him completely. Not yet.
With a deep breath, Dorian pushed the magic back, forcing it to remain dormant—for now. There would be time for power later. For now, he needed to focus on the next steps, on solidifying his position within Durmstrang, on watching Yaxley closely. The game was far from over, and Dorian intended to win.
As he turned away from the window and prepared for bed, Dorian couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. Something big. The pieces were falling into place, and soon, everything would change.
And when it did, Dorian Selwyn would be ready to claim his rightful place at the top.