Chapter Three: The Forbidden Wing
1129 Words
Chapter Three: The Forbidden Wing
I couldn't concentrate.
Not in History of the Coven.
Not in Potion Theory.
Not even during Combat Magic, which was usually my favorite class.
Every few minutes my eyes drifted back to the silver mark wrapped around my wrist.
It had faded since this morning, but it hadn't disappeared.
Instead, it seemed...alive.
Almost as if it pulsed beneath my skin whenever I thought about it.
I tugged my sleeve farther over it.
No one could know.
Not until I knew what it meant.
"Lyriana."
I blinked.
Professor Rowan stood over my desk, arms folded across his chest.
"Care to share what is so fascinating beneath your sleeve?"
Heat rushed to my face.
"N-no, Professor."
"I asked you to identify the final ingredient in a Lunar Restoration Potion."
My mind went completely blank.
"...Moonflower?"
A few students laughed.
Professor Rowan sighed.
"Incorrect."
Wonderful.
First mysterious magical branding.
Now public embarrassment.
Best birthday ever.
When class finally ended, I practically bolted into the hallway.
"Lyria!"
I turned to see Elara weaving through the crowd toward me.
Her silver curls bounced with every step.
"There you are!" she said. "You've been acting strange all day."
"I've just...had a weird morning."
"That's an understatement."
She lowered her voice.
"You skipped breakfast."
"I wasn't hungry."
"You love breakfast."
"I wasn't hungry enough."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You are a terrible liar."
I forced a smile.
"I'm fine."
She didn't look convinced.
"You know...today is your eighteenth birthday."
"I know."
"So why do you look like someone just announced the end of the world?"
Because maybe they did.
Instead I shrugged.
"Just tired."
She sighed dramatically.
"Fine. Keep your secrets."
If only they were mine to keep.
————-
The library was nearly empty by sunset.
Exactly how I liked it.
Most students avoided it after classes ended.
They claimed it felt haunted.
Personally, I thought they were dramatic.
As I wandered between the towering shelves, my fingers instinctively drifted to the silver locket resting against my chest beneath my uniform.
My adoptive father had pressed it into my hand before I left that morning.
"Your mother wanted you to have this on your eighteenth birthday."
He hadn't answered when I'd asked which mother.
He'd only smiled sadly and told me to wear it always.
The locket itself was beautiful despite its age.
Made of polished silver, its surface was etched with delicate vines that twisted around tiny stars. In the very center sat a raised silver crown, and suspended just above it was a slender crescent moon.
The design had seemed oddly familiar even before the mark appeared on my wrist.
Now I couldn't stop wondering if they were connected.
I'd tried opening it several times throughout the day.
It wouldn't budge.
There wasn't even a visible latch.
It was as though the locket had been magically sealed.
Shaking the thought away, I continued searching the shelves.
The ancient building smelled of parchment, cedar, and candle wax. Shelves stretched higher than any ordinary ladder could reach. Enchanted lights floated lazily between the aisles. If there were answers anywhere... They'd be here. I searched every section I could think of. Moon Magic. Ancient Bloodlines. Magical Symbols. Royal Families. Nothing. Hours passed. Frustration settled heavily in my chest. "Looking for something?" I nearly jumped out of my skin. The librarian appeared from nowhere. As usual. Madam Isolde had a talent for doing that. "I'm researching...birth marks." She gave me a look that told me she knew I was lying. "Birth marks." "Yes." "Hmm." She studied me for a long moment. Then her gaze drifted to my sleeve. For the briefest second... Her expression changed. Recognition. Fear. It disappeared so quickly I almost thought I'd imagined it. "You won't find what you're looking for out here." "What do you mean?" She hesitated. "Asking the wrong questions leads to the wrong books." Before I could respond, she turned and disappeared into the maze of shelves. I hurried after her. But she was gone. Completely gone. Only one thing remained where she'd been standing. A single brass key. Attached was a faded tag. Restricted Archives.
The key felt unusually warm in my hand. I stared at it. Surely she hadn't meant to leave it. Had she? No. It had to be intentional. Didn't it? Common sense told me to hand it back. Curiosity won. Again. The Restricted Archives sat beneath the oldest part of the academy. Students weren't allowed there. Officially because many of the books contained dangerous magic. Unofficially... Rumor claimed they contained truths. Truths the Council preferred forgotten. The staircase spiraled deep underground. The air grew colder with every step. By the time I reached the massive iron door, goosebumps covered my arms. The brass key slid into the lock perfectly. With a heavy groan... The door opened. Darkness greeted me. Candles lining the walls burst into blue flame one by one. The room was enormous. Shelves disappeared into the shadows. Ancient scrolls. Crystal orbs. Locked chests. Weapons older than kingdoms. It felt less like a library... More like a tomb. As I stepped inside, the silver mark on my wrist flared. Bright enough to illuminate the room. Then— Click. One bookshelf shifted. Stone scraped against stone. A hidden doorway slowly opened.
The hidden chamber was circular.
Unlike the dusty archive outside, this room was pristine.
At its center rested a single pedestal.
On top sat an ancient leather-bound book.
There was no title.
Only the same symbol burned into the cover.
A silver crown beneath a crescent moon.
The exact mark burned into my wrist.
My breath caught.
Slowly, I lifted the locket from beneath my shirt.
The symbols weren't identical...
But they were close enough to make my stomach twist.
The silver locket suddenly grew warm in my palm.
Not painfully so.
Just enough to make me gasp.
A faint silver glow spread across its engraved vines.
"No..."
I whispered.
The Grimoire answered.
Silver light seeped from the symbol on its cover, reaching toward the locket in shimmering strands.
The two glows intertwined like they recognized one another.
As though they had been waiting eighteen years to meet again.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
"What are you?"
Neither object answered.
Instead, the locket gave a soft metallic click.
I looked down in surprise.
For the first time in eighteen years...
It had unlocked.
With trembling fingers, I reached for the lid—
Before I could open it, the Silver Grimoire burst open on its own.
The room exploded with blinding silver light.
A woman's voice whispered inside my mind.
"At last..."
The Grimoire's pages turned violently as every candle in the chamber went out.
The locket snapped shut again on its own.
Locked once more.
- Writer
