Alina barely slept that night, her mind racing with thoughts of the strange voice she'd heard. When morning came, she felt sluggish and out of place, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming through her window did little to ease her nerves.
She resolved to push the unsettling experience out of her mind. Whatever she had heard, it was probably just her imagination playing tricks on her—or so she told herself.
Her first class of the day was Physical Enhancement, a unique subject tailored to the diverse abilities of the students. The class met outside on the expansive training grounds, where the morning dew glistened on the grass.
"Alright, everyone!" barked Mr. Grimshaw, their instructor and a towering orc with a booming voice. "Pair up! Today, we're focusing on reflexes and speed."
Alina was nervous. Physical activities weren't her strongest suit, and she had no idea how she'd match up against her classmates, many of whom had superhuman abilities.
"Looks like it's just you and me," Fenrir said, stepping up beside her with a toothy grin. His amber eyes sparkled mischievously, and his tail swished behind him.
"Oh, great," Alina muttered under her breath.
The training began with a simple exercise: dodging enchanted projectiles that flew at unpredictable speeds.
"Try to keep up, human!" Fenrir teased as he effortlessly dodged a flurry of glowing spheres.
Alina clenched her fists, determined not to embarrass herself. The first projectile came at her slowly, and she managed to sidestep it with ease. The next was faster, and she barely ducked in time.
"Not bad!" Fenrir called out, clearly amused.
But as the exercise continued, the pace quickened, and Alina struggled to keep up. Sweat dripped down her brow, and her muscles ached. Just as she thought she couldn't go on, a sharp whistle blew.
"Alright, that's enough!" Mr. Grimshaw announced. "Good effort, everyone."
Alina collapsed onto the grass, her chest heaving. Fenrir plopped down beside her, looking annoyingly unfazed.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, handing her a water bottle.
"Thanks," she muttered, taking a sip.
Later that day, during her free period, Alina wandered to the library again. She felt drawn to the place, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the sense of calm it offered, or maybe she was hoping to run into Lorian again.
As she browsed the shelves, she heard a soft rustling behind her. Turning, she saw a familiar face—it was Ariel, the angelic girl from her class.
"Alina," Ariel said softly, her voice like a melody. "I… I wanted to talk to you."
"Sure," Alina said, surprised. "What's on your mind?"
Ariel hesitated, her delicate hands clutching the book she was holding. "I've been having strange dreams lately. They're… unsettling."
"What kind of dreams?" Alina asked, her pulse quickening.
Ariel looked around nervously, as if afraid of being overheard. "It's hard to explain. There's this… presence. It feels ancient and powerful. And it keeps calling out to me. To us."
"Us?"
Ariel nodded. "I think it's connected to the school. Maybe even to the Night of Union."
Alina's stomach churned. She thought of the whispers she'd heard the night before, and a chill ran down her spine.
That evening, Alina found herself drawn to the edge of the forest. She didn't know what she was looking for, but something about the shadow she'd seen the previous night gnawed at her curiosity.
The air was crisp and cool, the faint scent of pine mingling with the earthy aroma of damp soil. As she stepped closer to the tree line, she noticed faint footprints in the mud—too small to belong to an orc, but too large to be a child's.
"Alina, what are you doing out here?"
She spun around to see Lorian standing a few feet away, his expression stern.
"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Lorian sighed. "This isn't a safe place to wander alone, especially after dark."
"I saw something," Alina said, pointing toward the forest. "Last night. A shadow. It went into the woods."
Lorian's eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't have followed it. There are things in this forest that even the teachers can't fully control."
"What kind of things?" Alina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Old magic," Lorian said. "Leftovers from the Night of Union. Some of it never settled properly. It's… unstable."
Alina shivered. "Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"
"They've tried," Lorian said. "But some things can't be undone."
As they spoke, a sudden rustling in the bushes made them both freeze. Lorian stepped in front of Alina, his hand reaching for the sword at his side.
The rustling grew louder, and then, without warning, a figure burst from the undergrowth—a boy, no older than 17, with wild eyes and torn clothing.
"Help me!" the boy cried, his voice hoarse. "Please!"
Before Alina could react, the boy collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Lorian knelt beside him, checking for a pulse. "He's alive, but barely. We need to get him to the infirmary."
"Who is he?" Alina asked, her heart racing.
"I don't know," Lorian said, lifting the boy onto his back. "But I intend to find out."
As they made their way back to the school, Alina couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger.
Unknown to them within the forest a pair of glowing red eyes watched them from the shadows.