The Face behind the Shadow
1361 Words
I skip breakfast.
I don’t have the patience for it this morning.
Besides, I have other things to think about.
Like the creature in the forest.
Or, more specifically, the creature who knocked me unconscious.
I still haven’t decided which part irritates me more.
I walk through the academy corridors with my bag hanging over one shoulder, ignoring the stares from students as I pass.
Apparently, being one of the first humans admitted into the academy makes me interesting.
I couldn’t care less.
I’m halfway to my first class when I see her.
Seraphina.
She’s walking toward me with two girls beside her, laughing about something.
The moment her eyes meet mine, she stops.
Her laughter dies.
Her entire body stiffens.
Then she takes a step back.
I stop too.
Interesting.
She doesn’t remember.
I know that.
I made sure of it.
She has no memory of the forest.
No memory of my hands on her.
No memory of the feeding.
Yet she’s afraid.
I smile.
A slow, knowing smile.
Seraphina’s eyes widen.
She quickly looks away and moves to the other side of the hallway.
Her friends exchange confused glances before following her.
I almost laugh.
So much for the school queen.
Memory may be easy to erase.
Instinct isn’t.
Whatever happened last night is buried somewhere inside her.
Her mind doesn’t remember me.
But her body does.
It knows I’m dangerous.
And I find that incredibly satisfying.
I continue walking.
My classroom is already filling up when I arrive.
I choose a seat at the very back.
It’s the best place.
I can see everyone.
Everyone can’t see me.
Mira isn’t in this class, thankfully.
I need some time alone with my thoughts.
Students slowly settle into their seats.
The room itself looks more like an old lecture hall than a classroom.
Dark wooden desks fill the room in neat rows.
Ancient books line the shelves along the walls.
At the front is a large blackboard covered with symbols I don’t recognize.
Yet somehow, they feel familiar.
I run my fingers across one of the carvings on my desk.
Something hums beneath it.
Magic.
The door closes.
Everyone becomes quiet.
A woman walks to the front.
She looks old.
Very old.
But not human old.
Her silver hair falls past her shoulders, and her eyes have a strange golden tint.
She places a stack of books on the desk.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, Professor.”
She turns toward the board.
“Professor Elara.”
She writes her name.
Then beneath it:
PARANORMAL HISTORY
“I imagine most of you have heard some version of the story I’m about to tell.”
She looks around the room.
“But history has a habit of becoming distorted when it is passed from one generation to another.”
I lean back.
Interesting.
She points toward the board.
“Before the First Ripple, Earth belonged almost exclusively to humans.”
The room becomes completely silent.
“The world beyond Earth was not entirely separate from ours. It was simply inaccessible.”
She draws a circle.
“Then, approximately three thousand years ago, something changed.”
She draws a second circle beside it.
“The dimensions began to weaken.”
A line appears between them.
“A rupture formed between our world and another.”
She pauses.
“We call it the Ripple.”
A student raises his hand.
Professor Elara nods.
“The Ripple wasn’t a door. It wasn’t a portal in the traditional sense. It was a tear in the fabric separating dimensions.”
She taps the board.
“And through that tear, things began to enter our world.”
My attention sharpens.
Things.
Not people.
Creatures.
“Some were intelligent.”
She draws several symbols.
“Some were not.”
“Some were harmless.”
Another symbol.
“Others were not.”
The professor continues.
“For centuries, creatures crossed through the Ripple. Some returned to their world. Others remained.”
She looks around the room.
“And some interacted with humans.”
A few students shift in their seats.
“Relationships formed.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Children were born.”
There it is.
“The offspring of these unions carried traits from both worlds.”
She points to the students.
“Those bloodlines eventually became what we now call paranormals.”
She begins listing them.
“Shifters.”
A wolf symbol appears.
“Witches.”
A crescent.
“Fae.”
A pair of wings.
“Vampires.”
A dark mark.
“Elementals.”
Fire.
“And dozens of other classifications.”
A student raises his hand.
“So all paranormal creatures are descended from beings that came through the Ripple?”
“Not all.”
Professor Elara pauses.
“Some were created through other means. Some evolved. Some were altered.”
I sit forward.
“But the original bloodlines came through the Ripple?”
“Yes.”
Interesting.
The professor continues.
“For centuries, the Ripple remained unstable. It would open randomly in different locations around the world.”
She gestures toward a map.
“Each time it appeared, we tracked it.”
Another symbol appears.
“Contained it.”
Another.
“And eventually closed it.”
A boy near the front raises his hand.
“So the Ripple doesn’t exist anymore?”
Professor Elara’s expression changes.
“No.”
She looks at him.
“It still exists.”
The room goes quiet.
“It has never completely closed.”
Whispers erupt.
Professor Elara raises her hand.
“The Council monitors every known rupture. Whenever a new breach appears, it is contained as quickly as possible.”
“Then what’s the problem?” someone asks.
She looks toward the class.
“The creatures.”
My eyes narrow.
“What creatures?”
The question leaves my mouth before I realize I’ve spoken.
Professor Elara looks directly at me.
I sit back.
She studies me for a moment.
“There are creatures that continue to cross.”
A murmur moves through the classroom.
“Despite our tracking systems.”
She turns back toward the board.
“Despite the wards.”
Despite everything.
“Some of them cross before we detect the rupture.”
A student asks, “What happens to them?”
Professor Elara’s face becomes serious.
“They disappear.”
I frown.
“Disappear?”
“We don’t know where they go.”
I open my mouth.
I want to ask what kind of creatures can pass through unnoticed.
What could possibly be powerful enough to evade an entire supernatural council?
But before I can speak—
The classroom door swings open.
Everyone turns.
A boy walks in.
Late.
Not hurried.
Not apologetic.
He strolls into the classroom like he owns the academy.
Like the professor is nothing more than an inconvenience.
He’s tall.
Very tall.
Dark hair falls carelessly across his forehead.
His uniform is slightly disheveled, his tie hanging loose around his neck.
But it’s his eyes that catch my attention.
They’re dark.
Almost black.
I can’t feel his aura.
That’s strange.
Very strange.
He walks down the aisle.
Professor Elara watches him.
“You’re late.”
He doesn’t even look embarrassed.
“Unfortunately.”
“You were instructed to address me as Professor.”
He stops.
Looks at her.
Then smiles.
“I’m sure you know who I am, Professor.”
A few students snicker.
Professor Elara’s jaw tightens.
“Take your seat.”
He looks around.
Every seat is occupied.
Except the one beside me.
Of course.
He walks toward me.
I stare at him.
He drops his bag onto the floor.
Pulls out the chair.
Sits.
Then leans back like he’s been sitting there all semester.
Professor Elara sighs.
“Continue Elara.”
His voice.
My entire body goes still.
That voice.
Deep.
Amused.
Dangerous.
The forest.
The whisper behind me.
What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in the woods at night?
My head slowly turns.
He looks at me.
And smiles.
Recognition flashes in his eyes.
My heart pounds once.
Hard.
Impossible.
He remembers.
I stare at him.
“You.”
His smile widens.
“Me.”
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