[ Lyra Blackthorn's POV ]
The candlelight flickered as Lyra sat on the edge of her bed, her mind swirling in a tangled web of thoughts. The past few days had been nothing short of chaotic. Ever since she'd taken matters into her own hands to deal with Kara, she could feel something shifting inside her. The darkness she had always kept carefully locked away was seeping through the cracks of her control, growing stronger with every passing day.
Her hands trembled slightly as she stared down at them. She could still feel the weight of the Imperius Curse she'd cast, the thrill of exerting her will over another, bending someone's mind to her own. She'd done it to cover her tracks, to protect Dorian, to keep everything from unraveling. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she hadn't done it just to protect him.
I did it because it felt right. Because the darkness wanted me to.
The realization had been creeping up on her for days now, gnawing at her every time she cast a spell or even just looked at herself in the mirror. She was losing control. No matter how composed she seemed on the outside, the darkness within her was growing louder, more demanding. And it was terrifying.
Lyra stood abruptly, pacing the small dormitory room. She felt caged in by her own thoughts, trapped by the power that was now slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. Her control, the one thing she prided herself on, was faltering.
I can't let this happen.
She clenched her fists, staring at the reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The girl staring back at her was composed, calm, just as she always presented herself to the world. But behind her eyes, the shadows danced, hungry and restless.
She knew she needed help. But from whom?
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She stiffened, her hand instinctively moving to the wand at her side. When the door creaked open, Dorian stood there, his face illuminated by the dim light from the corridor outside. His expression was calm, though Lyra could sense the unspoken tension between them. It had been growing lately—ever since Kara's death.
"Lyra," Dorian's voice was steady as he stepped into the room. "You've been distant."
Lyra forced a smile, the kind she'd perfected over the years. "I've just had a lot on my mind."
Dorian closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms. His eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she thought he might see through the mask. "I know the feeling," he said quietly.
She bit her lip, trying to find the right words. She hadn't planned on telling him yet—hadn't even fully decided what she was going to do. But now that he was here, now that the darkness felt so close to the surface, she knew she couldn't keep it from him any longer.
"I think…" she started, her voice faltering for a moment. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I think I need to leave Durmstrang. Just for a while."
Dorian's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? Why?"
Lyra let out a shaky breath, walking over to the window and staring out into the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the grounds. "The darkness inside me, Dorian… it's growing. And I can't control it anymore."
For a moment, there was silence. She could feel his eyes on her, weighing her words, trying to make sense of what she was saying. But Lyra didn't turn around. She couldn't. Not yet.
"I thought I had it under control," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "For years, I thought I had mastered it. But after… after everything with Kara, it's only gotten worse. Every day, it feels like the magic is slipping away from me. It's… terrifying."
She finally turned to face him, and the look in his eyes made her heart clench. He looked concerned, yes, but there was something else there too—something that almost looked like understanding.
"I need to see my aunt," Lyra said, her voice stronger now. "She's a powerful dark witch, and she helped me when I was younger, when the darkness first started manifesting. She's the only one who can teach me how to control it again."
Dorian's brow furrowed, and he pushed off the door, taking a few steps toward her. "Your aunt? You've never mentioned her before."
Lyra nodded, trying to steady her breathing. "She's kept her distance from the world for years now. She's powerful, renowned even, but she prefers to stay hidden. When I was younger, and the darkness in me first began to surface, my parents sent me to her. She taught me how to control it, how to harness it without letting it consume me. But I was just a child then. Things are… different now."
Dorian studied her, his expression unreadable. "And you think she can help you again?"
"I know she can," Lyra replied. "She's the only one who can."
Dorian was silent for a long moment, his eyes scanning her face as if searching for something. Lyra could feel the weight of his gaze, the questions he wasn't asking. She knew what he was thinking—knew that he didn't like the idea of her leaving, especially now.
"You're the strongest witch I know, Lyra," Dorian said finally, his voice low. "You don't need anyone's help."
Lyra felt a small pang in her chest at his words. She wanted to believe that was true, wanted to believe that she could handle this on her own. But the truth was, she couldn't. Not this time.
"I'm losing control, Dorian," she admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "And if I don't do something soon, I'm afraid of what I might do."
Dorian stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "You've always had control. You've always been the one who kept me grounded. I don't know if I can… I don't know what I'll do without you here."
His words surprised her, and for a moment, Lyra felt a flicker of something warm beneath the cold darkness that had been consuming her. She hadn't realized just how much she meant to him.
"You'll be fine," she said, forcing a smile. "You're stronger than you think."
Dorian's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might argue. But then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know," Lyra admitted. "A few weeks, maybe more. I need time to work through this, to figure out how to regain control. But I'll come back. I promise."
Dorian's eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite place—was it fear? Uncertainty? She wasn't sure, but she knew that leaving him, even temporarily, would be hard. Still, it was something she had to do, for both their sakes.
"I'll miss you," Dorian said quietly, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it.
Lyra smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll miss you too."
There was a long silence between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Lyra wanted to reach out, to tell him everything she hadn't said—about the darkness, about how scared she was, about how much he meant to her. But she couldn't. Not now. Not yet.
Instead, she stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll be back before you know it. And when I return… we'll figure this out. Together."
Dorian nodded, though his eyes still held that shadow of uncertainty. Lyra knew this wouldn't be easy for either of them, but she also knew it was the only way to stop the darkness from consuming her completely.
"I'll write to you," she said softly, stepping back.
"I'll hold you to that," Dorian replied, his voice almost a whisper.
Lyra gave him one last look, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she was leaving behind the one person who truly understood her. But she had to do this. For herself, for her magic, and for the friendship they had built.
As she turned to leave the room, the darkness whispered in the back of her mind, growing louder with each step she took.
Control it, or it will consume you.
Lyra left the room without another word, determined to find a way to keep the darkness at bay before it was too late.