The study was eerily quiet, a faint breeze rustling the loose papers scattered across Idris’s desk. Something felt off. Idris was never the most organized person, but he kept his workspace functional, even amidst chaos. Today, the desk looked as if it had been ransacked—documents were crumpled, some even lying on the floor.
I picked up a paper and glanced toward the half-open garden door. Instinctively, I walked outside, drawn by an uneasy sense of something being amiss. On the grass, I spotted a trail of dark color liquid. My stomach churned at the sight. It wasn’t water.
I followed the drips until they led me to a patch of grass where a massive magic circle was etched into the earth. The intricate symbols looked nothing like the harmless sigils I’d seen in books; they were twisted, alm
