Chapter Two
1989 Words
The hallway felt strangely long.
Dorian walked through the few students still lingering around, his backpack hanging from one shoulder. His mind was crowded with questions he couldn't seem to answer. The assembly had ended about twenty minutes ago, but people were still talking about it.
Everywhere he went, he caught pieces of conversations.
The City in the Mists.
The letter.
Someone's cousin claiming it was all a hoax.
Dorian tried to ignore them. He had something else on his mind.
His mother's classroom was at the far end of the east wing, away from the busy hallways. Mrs. Vance taught advanced literature, and her classroom always smelled faintly of old books and the lavender sachets she kept inside her desk.
Dorian had spent plenty of afternoons there, usually sitting in the corner with a book while his mother marked papers.
But today was different.
He opened the door without knocking.
His mother looked up from her desk. A pile of essays sat in front of her, and her reading glasses rested low on her nose.
"Dorian," she said, surprised. "I thought you'd be heading home with the others."
"I need to talk to you."
She studied his face for a moment before putting her pen down.
"Close the door."
Dorian did.
The latch clicked behind him.
His mother pointed toward the chair across from her desk, and he sat down. Suddenly, he realized just how tired he was. The whole day had left him drained.
The gymnasium had been packed with students. He'd felt their fear, their confusion, their racing hearts. It had been almost impossible to shut it out.
"About the trip," he said.
His mother's expression barely changed, but he noticed the slight tension around her eyes.
"What about it?"
"You knew about it. Before the assembly. You said you couldn't tell me."
"I said it was confidential."
"You said you were worried." Dorian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You never get worried about school trips. Last year's camping trip was in a bear habitat, and you told me to pack extra marshmallows."
A small smile appeared on his mother's face, but it disappeared almost immediately.
She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"This is different, Dorian."
"How?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she stood and walked toward the window, turning her back to him.
The afternoon sun came through the glass, stretching long shadows across the classroom. Outside, students were slowly making their way toward the parking lot. Their voices were faint through the closed window.
"The man who funded this trip," she finally said, "his name is Julian Cross. He graduated from Northwood twenty years ago. He was one of my students."
Dorian stayed quiet.
He knew his mother well enough to know she wasn't finished.
"He was brilliant," she continued. "Top of his class. Gifted in ways that..."
She stopped for a moment.
"In ways that reminded me of you."
Dorian's stomach tightened.
"He went to university and studied geology and ancient history. Eventually, he became a researcher and made a name for himself."
She turned away from the window.
"About five years ago, he went on an expedition. Somewhere remote. He never told me exactly where, but I knew it was dangerous. I could see it in his face."
"What happened?"
"He came back... different."
Her voice dropped.
"Closed off. He wouldn't talk about what he'd found. Then, a few months ago, he contacted the school and said he wanted to fund an educational trip. A unique experience for a select group of students."
Dorian frowned.
"That doesn't sound like someone who's trying to keep a secret."
"Doesn't it?"
His mother folded her arms.
"Think about it, Dorian. He's spent years researching something. Something important enough to change him. And now he's funding a trip for high school students to a place called 'The City in the Mists.'"
She shook her head slightly.
"He's not inviting colleagues. He's not publishing papers. He's reaching out to young people."
"Maybe he wants to inspire them."
"Maybe."
Her voice was quiet.
"Or maybe he needs them for something else."
The words stayed between them.
A chill ran down Dorian's spine.
"Did you try to stop the trip?"
"I tried," she admitted. "I went to Principal Henderson. I told him I had concerns. But the funding was too significant. An anonymous donor had matched Cross's contribution, and the school board was already on board."
She sighed.
"They called it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"Did you tell them about..." Dorian hesitated. "About what I can do?"
His mother's eyes widened.
"Dorian, no. I would never"
"I know." He raised a hand. "I know you wouldn't. I'm just trying to understand why this feels so wrong."
She walked over and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers.
Her fingers were warm and familiar.
"Because you feel things," she said softly. "You always have. That's not a weakness, Dorian. It's how you know when something doesn't add up."
"Then what do I do?"
"You go on the trip."
She squeezed his hands.
"You watch. You listen. And if something feels off if you sense danger you get yourself and your friends out of there. Promise me."
Dorian looked into her eyes.
"I promise."
She held his gaze for another moment before letting go.
"Good. Now go home. Get some rest. You've got five days before this thing starts, and I have a feeling you're going to need every ounce of strength you have."
Dorian stood.
His legs felt heavier than they should have.
He reached the door and stopped, his hand resting on the handle.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For telling me the truth."
She smiled, though he could still see the worry in her eyes.
"I've never been able to keep secrets from you. I'm not sure why I thought this would be any different."
Dorian left the classroom.
The hallway was almost completely empty now. His footsteps echoed against the walls as he walked toward the exit.
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the janitor's radio playing. A cheerful pop song drifted through the quiet school, sounding strangely out of place.
Outside, the sun was already getting lower, covering the parking lot in gold.
Aria was waiting beside his car with her backpack on the ground. She was looking at her phone, but glanced up when she saw him.
"Everything okay?"
"Fine." Dorian unlocked the car. "Just talking to my mom."
"About the trip?"
He nodded.
He didn't trust himself to say anything else.
Aria didn't push.
That was something he appreciated about her. She knew when to ask questions and when to simply let him be.
She got into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. Dorian started the engine.
For a while, they drove without talking.
The familiar streets passed outside the windows. Houses with neat lawns. Small shops. Cars coming and going.
Everything looked normal.
Safe.
Yet Dorian couldn't shake the strange feeling that it wouldn't stay that way for long.
"You're worried," Aria said eventually.
"I'm always worried."
"About the trip?"
Dorian glanced at her.
Her brown eyes were already watching him.
"My mom told me something," he admitted. "About the man who funded the trip. Julian Cross. He used to be one of her students."
"And?"
"And she thinks something happened to him. Something that changed him."
He paused.
"She's worried the trip isn't what it seems."
Aria was quiet for a moment.
Then she asked, "Do you trust her?"
"With my life."
"Then we'll be careful."
She placed a hand on his arm.
"We'll stick together. You, me, Maya, Ben. We'll look out for each other. And if something goes wrong, we'll handle it."
Dorian wanted to believe her.
He wanted to let her confidence push his worries away, even for a little while.
But his mother's words were still sitting heavily in his mind.
"What if something's already gone wrong?" he asked. "What if we're already in too deep?"
Aria's hand tightened slightly around his arm.
"Then we'll find a way out. Together."
Dorian pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine.
The house was dark. His father was still at work.
Neither of them moved for a moment.
The silence inside the car felt heavy.
"You should come inside," Dorian said. "Stay for dinner. My dad's working late, and my mom's probably grading essays. We can order pizza."
Aria smiled.
"Pizza sounds good."
They walked toward the house together.
For the first time since the assembly, Dorian felt some of the pressure in his chest ease.
Not the worry.
That was still there.
But the loneliness was fading.
He wasn't carrying everything by himself anymore.
Inside, his mother was already in the kitchen heating leftovers. She greeted Aria warmly, and soon the two of them were talking like they always did.
Dorian went upstairs to change.
He stopped in front of his bedroom mirror.
For a moment, he simply stared at himself.
Blue eyes stared back.
Ocean blue.
The same eyes he'd seen his entire life. Calm. Familiar. Ordinary.
But Dorian knew there was something underneath all of that.
He'd felt it during the assembly.
The fear from the crowd had been almost unbearable, pressing against him from every direction. Then there was the anger beneath it, something he kept buried because he knew what could happen if he lost control.
And then there was the power.
It moved through him like fire.
He'd spent years learning how to control it. How to keep it locked away so no one would get hurt.
But now he was going to the City in the Mists.
Whatever waited there might be different.
And Dorian couldn't stop wondering whether his control would be enough.
He closed his eyes and took a slow breath.
When he opened them again, nothing had changed.
Same face.
Same blue eyes.
Same calm expression.
He hoped it would stay that way.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD