The book sat closed on the desk, its cover still warm to the touch, as if the ink on the page had seeped heat into the leather. The words 'The unwritten extra walks among heroes. But heroes cast long shadows' lingered in the air like a curse I couldn't shake. The room felt colder now, the mana-lanterns flickering as if they were afraid to shine too brightly. The Aschenmoon had risen higher in the sky outside the window, its red glow bleeding through the glass like spilled blood.
I stared at the closed book, my heartbeat loud in my ears. The prophecy from earlier—the betrayal, the death—had been bad enough. But this? This felt personal. Like the book was mocking me. Heroes. Shadows. Is that what they are? Elara and Lyra? Or Celine and Mira? Or Raiden and Kael? And what does that make me? The one in the shadow, or the one casting it?
The thought twisted in my gut. Trust was already hard for me. And now the book was telling me it would end in betrayal. They've saved my life. Stood up for me. Healed me. And the book says they'll abandon me to die.
Lyra broke the silence first, her voice a little too loud in the quiet room. "Okay. What the hell does that mean? 'Heroes cast long shadows'? Is that some kind of riddle?"
Elara pushed herself away from the desk, pacing slowly toward the window. Her short brown hair caught the red moonlight, turning it a darker shade. "It's not a riddle. It's a warning. The book is saying that Eryndor is getting close to people like us. People who change things. But closeness to power… has a price—or something like that."
Lyra leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Or it's trying to scare us. Make us pull away. Make Eryndor pull away."
I finally found my voice. It came out rough. "It's working"
They both looked at me.
I swallowed. "I mean…i am scared and i already don't trust easily. And now it's saying heroes cast shadows. What if that means you two?" My gaze flicked between them, a small nervous and uncertain smile tugging at my lips.
"Or Celine, Raiden, Kael? Or… it could be anyone. What if I'm the shadow? Or the one who gets swallowed by it?"
Lyra's expression softened. "Hey. Listen. We're not heroes. We're just two third-years who saw a F-Class kid all alone and decided to step in. And we're not casting shadows on you. We're standing with you."
Elara stopped pacing. "The book is alive. It's feeding off your fear. Off our fear. We don't let it win. We stick to the plan. Train. Research. Watch each other's backs."
I looked at the book. Closed. Silent. "Okay."
The silence settled again—less heavy this time.
Elara glanced at the window. "It's getting late. Curfew soon. We meet here tomorrow evening. Same time."
Lyra stood, stretching. "And training in the morning. No skipping."
I nodded. "I'll be there."
We left the study together—Elara locking the wards behind us with a flare of silver light. The corridor outside was dim, mana-lanterns flickering to life as dusk fell. We walked in silence at first, the weight of the book's words still hanging over us.
Then Lyra bumped my shoulder. "Don't think too much about it, Eryndor. The book's just trying to scare you."
Elara's voice was quiet. "It's already working."
We reached the junction where our paths split—Elara and Lyra to the upper dorms, me down to the F-Class basement.
Lyra grinned. "See you in the morning. Don't be late, or I'll come drag you out of bed."
Elara looked at me. "Get some rest. And be careful. We don't know what's out there."
I nodded. "You too."
They left—their footsteps fading up the stairs.
I headed down alone.
The basement corridor was cold, damp, the mana-lanterns flickering weakly. The air smelled of stone and old mana, familiar but lonely. My steps echoed louder than they should have.
Then a voice from the shadows.
"Vale."
I stopped.
Miss Miora stepped out from a side door—gray uniform rumpled, eyes tired but sharp. She looked at me like a mother who'd been waiting up all night.
"Where have you been the last few nights?" she asked, voice low but firm. "You didn't return to the dormitory. I was worried."
I swallowed. "I was… with friends. Elara and Lyra. There were problems. I couldn't come back."
She studied me for a long moment. "Problems. I heard rumors. Watchers. Abyss. Is that true?"
I hesitated, then nodded once. "Yes."
Her expression softened—just a fraction. "Be careful, boy. The academy isn't safe for anyone right now. Especially not for someone like you."
I looked at her. "Someone like me?"
She waved a hand. "Undefined. No bloodline. Late arrival. You stand out. And standing out gets you noticed. By the wrong things."
I nodded. "I'll be careful."
She sighed. "See that you are. And come back in time. No more disappearing, or I'll have to report it."
"I will."
She turned, disappeared back into her office.
I continued to my room—Room 47—the door creaking open. The small space felt emptier than before. The cot. The desk. The cracked mirror.
I sat on the bed, the frame creaking under me.
For the first time in days, I was alone.
The book in my ring stayed quiet.
For a while, I just sat there, staring at the cracked wall opposite my cot, listening to the distant hum of mana through the stone. My room felt smaller at night. Like the shadows pressed closer when no one else was around to see them.
Eventually, I reached for the ring.
The weight of the book settled into my hands as I pulled it free, heavier than it had any right to be. I set it on my lap, fingers lingering on the leather cover. Warm. Always warm. Like it was waiting for me.
I opened it.
The pages fluttered on their own, stopping with deliberate slowness.
A new page lay open—blank at first. Then faint ink bled into existence, thin and uneven, as if written by a hesitant hand.
The unwritten extra stands at the edge.
One step forward. One step back.
My breath caught.
The air in the room grew colder, the mana-lantern flickering once before steadying again. I stared at the words, heart pounding, a hollow ache settling deep in my chest.
The edge.
Forward or back.
I closed my eyes for a moment, the phrase repeating itself in my mind like a warning… or a challenge.
One step forward… and I might fall.
My fingers tightened around the book.
But staying still isn't an option anymore.