Third Person POV
The silence in the dorm room was no longer peaceful; it was a vacuum, sucking the oxygen out of Elara's lungs. The blood-stained sneaker lay on the cold linoleum like a grizzly crime scene, its laces tangled like dead vines.
Outside, the bells of Blackwood University began to toll, a deep, mournful sound that signaled the start of the Midnight Orientation.
Blackwood didn't just have classes; it had rituals. The "First Night" was a tradition designed to separate the elite from the expendable. While the rest of the world slept, the students of Blackwood were expected to gather in the Great Hall to receive their "Mandates."
Elara stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the shoe. The blood was dry, a dark, rusty brown that suggested it had been there for weeks. She didn't have time to scream. She didn't have time to mourn. The heavy thud of footsteps in the hallway reminded her that she was being watched.
Elara Vance POV
I grabbed the shoe, my hands trembling so violently I almost dropped it. I couldn't leave it here. If the administrators found it, I'd be expelled—or worse. I shoved the sneaker into the bottom of my trunk, burying it under my heaviest sweaters. My heart felt like a drum being beaten by a madman.
Welcome Home, Little Bird.
The words on the coin kept screaming in my head. Someone knew I was coming. Someone had prepared this room for me. I looked at the blackened coin sitting on the bed. It was no longer just a key; it was a tracking device. A leash.
I forced myself to stand. I smoothed out my emerald-and-black uniform, the fabric feeling like sandpaper against my skin. I had to go to the Orientation. If I stayed behind, I would be an anomaly. And in Blackwood, anomalies were purged.
I stepped out into the hallway. The walls were lined with flickering gas lamps that cast long, distorted shadows. Other students were emerging from their rooms, their faces pale and expressionless. They moved in a synchronized line, like soldiers marching toward a war they had already lost.
As we reached the Great Hall, the scale of the university's wealth became truly terrifying. The ceiling was a mosaic of obsidian and gold, depicting the fall of empires. At the far end of the hall, seated on a raised dais, was the Inner Circle.
And in the center sat Julian Blackwood.
He had changed into a formal velvet coat, the deep green fabric making his eyes look like emerald fire. He wasn't looking at the crowd; he was staring at a small, silver hourglass on the table in front of him. The sand was black.
"The First Night is for the brave," a voice boomed. It was the Dean, a man with a face like cracked parchment. "But the Archive is only for the worthy. Tonight, we welcome our new blood. One of you has brought a gift. One of you holds the toll."
My hand flew to my pocket. And felt the coin with my hands
Julian finally lifted his head. His gaze swept over the hundreds of students, indifferent and cold, until it landed on me. The corner of his mouth quirked—not a smile, but a predator's snarl. He stood up, the movement fluid and dangerous.
"Elara Vance," he said. His voice was a low vibration that seemed to crawl up my spine. The entire room went silent. A thousand heads turned to look at me. "I believe you have something that belongs to my family."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "I don't know what you're talking about," I managed to whisper, though my voice cracked.
Julian stepped down from the dais, walking toward me with a slow, deliberate pace. The students parted for him like the Red Sea. He stopped inches away from me, his height casting a shadow that swallowed me whole. He smelled of expensive cedarwood and something metallic—like old coins and dried blood.
"Lying is a difficult art, Little Bird," he murmured, leaning down so his lips were brushed against my ear. "Especially when you're carrying a dead man's currency."
He reached out, his fingers grazing my jacket pocket. I tried to flinch away, but his other hand caught my waist, pinning me in place. It wasn't a romantic gesture; it was a restraint. He reached into my pocket and pulled out the blackened coin.
He held it up for the room to see. But it wasn't the same coin I had found in Leo's room.
The serpent and the quill were gone. In their place was a new engraving: a skull with a crown of thorns. My eyes widen how did this coin get into my pocket
I could clearly remember that wasn't the coin
"The Ferryman has changed the price," Julian announced to the hall, his eyes never leaving mine. "The Archive is closed to you, Elara. Unless..."
"Unless what?" I choked out, my pride struggling against the terror.i must have access to the achieve to find leo
He leaned in even closer, his breath cold against my skin. "Unless you're willing to find the other shoe.
It's in the one place you're forbidden to go. The Dean's private study. If you aren't back by the time the black sand runs out..."
He pointed to the hourglass on the table. Only a quarter of the sand remained.
"Then you'll find out exactly how Leo Vance felt when he realized the doors only lock from the outside."
I gluped my eyes blinked in fear he knew leo
He dropped the coin back into my hand.it felt hot against my pam Julian turned his back on me, returning to his throne as if he hadn't just handed me a death sentence.
I turned and bolted toward the North Wing, my mind racing. The Dean's study was guarded. It was a trap. I knew it was a trap. But as I reached the heavy oak doors of the administration wing, I saw something that made me stop dead.
The doors were already open.
And leaning against the frame, holding a flickering candle and a jagged piece of metal that looked exactly like the nameplate from Leo's locker, was a girl I didn't. Recognize
Her eyes were glossy and vacant.
"He's waiting for you, Elara," she whispered, her voice sounding like a recording. "But it's not the Dean in there. It's the thing that ate your brother."
From inside the darkness of the study, I heard a sound that made my soul scream.
It was the sound of a fountain pen, scratching rhythmically against paper. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
And then, a voice that sounded exactly like Leo's: "Elara? Is that you? I've almost finished the list."