Aria Wynter's POV
Her respiration was shallow but regular, and she hadn't moved since she left. She remained a thriller—a soaking ghost who had wandered into my life, carrying pages of warnings and symbols I couldn't help but decode.
I didn't have time to dwell on the mystery she posed. My condo had transformed into a chaotic headquarters, with every available surface covered in remnants of Lily's life and studies. It turned into a mess that only I should understand.
I glanced at the wall that I had transformed into a map of links, with traces of red string crossing each other like veins. It became unfinished, with empty gaps between what I knew and what I didn't like, black pits I couldn't avoid plunging into. Symbols, names, and phrases were scrawled in Lily's rapid hand; they could have been anywhere. Lunar Bloodline, The Awakening, and Blackwood Tower. Each clue lead to further questions.
I ran my hands over an image placed in the center of the board. Lily's smile was dazzling and unfettered as she returned my gaze. She seemed so alive. The burden of remorse slammed against my breast like a big stone. My work has consumed me, and I was persuaded that I had more time to deal with parental issues. However, Lily had not waited for me to care. She'd long gone hunting for answers on her own, and she was now long gone.
I sank into the chair with the help of the espresso desk, my hands quivering slightly as I reached for one of the notebooks. The pages were old and filled with messages scribbled in her familiar script. It wasn't just words; it became desperation, a frenzied attempt to discover something she couldn't entirely comprehend.
I went through the pages till I came across one filled with sketches of strange symbols. The single thing in the center caught my attention—a crescent moon surrounded by jagged lines, almost like a crown of thorns. The sight of it sent a sigh down my spine. It transformed into the same symbol I'd seen etched into the dividers of the membership and carved into the wax seal of the mail I'd received earlier.
"What were you trying to tell me, Lily?" I whispered to the empty room.
The longer I stared at the sign, the stronger it appeared to pulsate, almost as if it were alive. My imaginative and clairvoyant abilities blurred for a moment, and the edges of the room darkened. I closed my eyes, attempting to regulate myself.
That's when I felt it again—this strange attention that haunted me when I returned to Ashwood. I should perceive the metropolis around me as more than just a collection of houses, but as something alive. The hum of the streets, the faint crackle of strength inside the partitions, even the gentle cadence of the lady's breathing—all of it felt intensified, as if it were the most powerful music I could hear.
I opened my eyes and let out a trembling breath. This was not every day.
It was not human.
That thought lingered, a dark and unpleasant fact I was not ready to face. Something inside of me had changed, and I didn't understand how or why.
The sound of my phone humming broke the silence and caused me to bounce. I took it from the desk, frowning as the unfamiliar variety flashed across the screen.
"Wynter," I said cautiously.
"You're still chasing ghosts, I see," an easy voice drawled.
My spine tingled with apprehension when I heard the tone. It became a voice I couldn't comprehend, yet it felt as if the speaker knew me much too well.
"who is this?" I demanded, tightening my grasp on the phone.
"a pal. Or maybe not. That depends on you."
"Enough games," I snapped. "when you have some thing to say, say it."
There was a pause, followed by a quiet snigger. "You understand that you are very similar to her. "Always pushing and usually digging."
"who are you speaking about?" My pulse quickened.
"Your sister," the individual continued, his tone softening just enough to feel personal. "Lily was intelligent, but she didn't understand when to intervene. She kept pulling on strands until the whole thing unraveled."
Something cold and sharp stabbed into my chest. "What do you recognize approximately Lily?"
"I recognize she became seeking out solutions in all the incorrect places," he told me. "and i understand you're approximately to make the same mistake."
"Stop wasting my time," I snarled with tight teeth. "inform me what you understand or—"
"Or what?" he asked, his tone sharpening. "Will you come after me? That is exactly what I am cautioning you about. Some truths are not meant to be revealed, Wynter. "Take a stroll away while you still can."
The chance became scattered but apparent. My heart raced as I forced myself to remain calm. "I am not walking away from something. If you recognize something, you should speak up."
The line became silent for a second, and I assumed he had hung up. But then he spoke again, his voice calmer, almost resigned.
"There's a place," he said. "There is a warehouse in the magical district. Your sister spent a lot of time there before she disappeared. If you're certain about this course, skip it. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
Before I could respond, the choice was made.
I glanced at the telephone, my mind racing. A warehouse. It wasn't much at first, but it turned into something.
I returned to the wall of clues, focusing my sight on a map of the magical district. There was a purple circle painted around an unremarkable structure on the district's outskirts—one of Lily's final stops before disappearing.
The pieces were starting to fit together, but the picture they created remained uncertain.
I grabbed my jacket and the sword I typically keep nearby. My instincts warned me to be cautious, but I didn't hesitate. If the warehouse contained the answers, I needed to find them.
The town became quieter as I approached the spooky zone. The rain had subsided, leaving the streets slick and shimmering in the illumination of neon signs. Ashwood had a way of appearing stunning and menacing all at once, like a predator hidden behind a seductive smile.
The closer I came to the warehouse, the more the air seemed to alternate. It became thicker here, dense with a strain I couldn't handle.
The structure itself was unremarkable: old brick, chipped windows, and a rusted metal door. It didn't look to be the type of location that hid secrets, but I knew better than to believe appearances.
I stood outdoors for a second, the weight of everything crushing down on me. This wasn't really much Lily anymore. It became about me—the changes I couldn't explain and the things I couldn't ignore.
I took a big breath, drove the door open, and walked inside.
The air became less warm here, with a subtle aroma of mould and steel. The ground became littered with particles—scraps of paper, broken glass, and the remains of what could have been furniture.
However, it wasn't empty.
The partitions were covered in symbols similar to those seen in Lily's notes and on the envelope. They shone faintly in the dim light, as if they were alive. My chest clenched as I proceeded around the room, the symbols seemed to shift and pulse with each step I took.
And then I noticed it—a table in the center of the room, covered in papers, pictures, and something more.
a little silver locket.
I recognized it immediately. It changed to Lily's.
I reached for it, my fingertips brushing against the cold steel. The moment I touched it, a rush of photographs flooded my mind—photographs of a forest drenched in moonlight, shadows darting amid trees, and a face that appeared to be Lily's but was not.
The inventive and clairvoyant vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving me breathless and unstable. I grabbed the locket tightly, my heart racing in my ears.
Whatever happened to Lily began here.
And I was going to find out the truth, no matter what it cost me.