P.A.L.E. { Protector against the Lycan's End}

*Chattering in the hall* The noise pressed against my ears like waves crashing against stone. I could see my brother panicking, his hand reaching for the bottle of water beside him. His fingers trembled as he lifted it, gulping as though it might drown his fear. Sweat broke out along his neck, rolling down his arms until the sleeves of his shirt clung to him. He didn’t care about the scholarship. The only reason he agreed to this ridiculous competition was to prove himself to Father. But was he afraid now? Of course he was. He knew what I was capable of when he agreed to this charade. For years, he had seen me stand undefeated, each test, each challenge, each question, mine. And yet, here we were, under Father’s watchful eyes, his gaze cutting into me like sharp steel. Father’s eyes never wavered. They were steadily fixed on me as though he could strip me bare with his stare alone. Piercing. Condemning. He had always looked at me that way, like I was both his greatest triumph and his most shameful mistake. I have been mute all my life. Words never left my lips. My silence was both my shield and my curse. And yet, despite it, or maybe because of it, I had carved meaning into my existence. The only thing that has ever given essence to my life is my academic recognition. My brilliance was my voice. My victories were my words. But today… today felt different. The hall’s air was heavy, the tension thick enough to choke me. The chatter died down as the host stepped forward, voice echoing into the microphone. “And for the last question, whoever wins this round wins it all.” A hush fell. I straightened my spine. This was my moment. Lights twitch. I frowned. What’s going.... My thought was cut short as a strange sound rippled through the silence. A low growl. A howl. Not human. My chest tightened as if invisible hands gripped me. My eyes darted around, but everyone looked calm, unbothered, untouched. Was this one of Adrian’s plans? Adrian. My brother. He had never beaten me fairly. Tricks, schemes, whispers behind my back, that was his way. Was this his doing? But then the sounds grew sharper. Louder. [Howls. Growls.] My heart hammered. I clutched at my ears, desperate to block it out. “Ahhhhhh…” The cry escaped me, not from my mouth, but from deep inside my head. No one else reacted. Their eyes were fixed on the stage, steady, curious. I was the only one hearing this. The voices came, layered, whispering, chanting, ancient and unfamiliar. Senar… Sirnala… Saki… Surya. The names coiled in my mind like smoke, repeated over and over. Each syllable struck a chord deep inside me, a place I didn’t know existed. My breath hitched. My chest burned. Sweat poured down my skin, sliding down my temples, soaking into the collar of my uniform. The paper in front of me blurred, the question on the page looking at me. Just one more question, I told myself. Just one more, and it would be over. But the voices wouldn’t stop. Senar. Sirnala. Saki. Surya. My hand trembled as I reached for my pen. I tried to write down the answer, tried to summon the calm certainty I was known for, but my hand betrayed me. It shook violently, the pen slipping between my fingers. My body refused to obey. It was as if something, someone, was controlling me. The dizziness hit suddenly, a crashing wave. My vision swam, the hall’s bright lights stretching into streaks of white. The murmurs of the crowd faded. And then, I heard it. Snow. The sound of my own name, not spoken by me, but by them, the voices. My head snapped upward. My body shuddered, frozen, trapped. The paper slipped from my hand. Darkness surged, pulling me down, down, until there was nothing left but the cold floor against my cheek. The moment I shut my eyes, I was gone. Blacked out.