Bloodkin

Lyra awakened in darkness. The first sound to reach her ears was the rolling of wheels on cobblestones, accompanied by the distant calls of night birds. She bolted upright, her hands frantically searching for something to grasp, and touched the ice cold velvet curtain of a horse drawn carriage. Where was this? The memories in Lyra's mind were like shattered glass fragments each time she tried to piece them together, they seemed to cut into her consciousness, leaving throbbing wounds of pain. She could only remember a name she felt someone had once called her: Lyra Light, and the feeling that this wasn't her real name. The faint light from an oil lamp inside the carriage revealed a letter lying on the opposite seat. The parchment had yellowed with age, sealed with dark red wax that looked strangely like congealed blood. She took a page from the envelope and opened it. Handwritten lines appeared in black ink: "You must not tell your real name to anyone. Remember you absolutely cannot let the mark on your neck be discovered." Lyra unconsciously placed her hand on the back of her neck. There was some shape protruding from her skin not painful, but strangely warm. It seemed to be shaped like a crescent moon. When her fingers touched it, she felt as though she could hear distant whispers in an incomprehensible language. The carriage stopped abruptly. A deep voice from outside rang out: "We have arrived at Academia Arcanum. Please disembark." The Academy of Arcane Arts appeared before Lyra Light's eyes. The main building was a massive black stone castle with pointed towers piercing straight into the night sky. Around the castle, thick fog swirled like wandering spirits. Light from countless windows sparkled, creating a beauty both mysterious and terrifying. Lyra and a group of about twenty other students were led through the main gate. She noticed that one group wore expensive robes and glittering jewelry clearly of noble birth. A few others, like herself, wore simple clothes and stood alone in a corner. "Pure blood and mixed blood students are not to mingle," a cold voice rang out from a guide. Lyra looked up and saw a tall youth, about seventeen years old, with platinum hair and ice blue eyes. He was looking straight into her eyes. "Who are you?" his voice was still cold, but with something trembling in it. "Lyra... Lyra Light," she replied, trying to keep her voice from shaking. The platinum haired youth frowned but then slowly relaxed. "I am Kael Vireon." Before Lyra could respond, a loud bell rang from the temple. All new students were gathered and led into a vast room with a soaring ceiling, surrounded by enormous stone statues of predecessor wizards. Before Lyra could respond, a loud bell rang from the temple. A guide in black robes emerged from the shadow of a pillar, his hoarse voice urging: "Hurry inside. The Headmaster doesn't like to wait." The stream of new students slowly moved forward, the expensive leather shoes of the pure bloods clicking on the stone floor, contrasting with the silent footsteps of the mixed bloods trying not to attract attention. They were led into a vast room with a soaring ceiling, surrounded by statues placed on high stone pedestals, apparently of predecessor wizards. Light from magical candles floating in mid air created dancing shadows on the walls, making the eyes of the statues seem to be watching from above. The air around the pillars seemed to thicken slightly. Suddenly, all the candles in the room went out simultaneously. Darkness enveloped everything for a few tense seconds. When the light returned, the air in the room had grown considerably colder, and one statue cracked slightly, revealing a tall woman wearing a black robe covered with glittering silver symbols. Her face was completely hidden by an elaborate silver mask. Then two more people emerged from the stone gate opposite. "I am Headmaster Valdris," her voice echoed as if coming from another dimension. "You will participate in the Naming Ceremony a sacred ritual to determine your magical bloodline." She pointed to the stone pillar. "Each person will place their hand on the Ancient Column and speak their name. If the column glows blue, you are Pure blood descendants of the main line and will be treated as nobility of the academy. If it glows silver, you are Mixed blood and will have to work many times harder to prove yourself." She paused, her gaze through the mask seeming to sweep over each student. "And if the column turns dark red..." her voice became hushed. But suddenly she said nothing more. The air in the room suddenly became tense. Lyra felt her heart pounding. A moment later, as if regaining her composure, she continued: "Kael Vireon, son of Magic Judge Castor Vireon, step forward first." Kael approached the stone column with confident bearing. When he placed his hand on the pillar and spoke his name, brilliant blue light blazed up like sacred flame. The other students were chattering excitedly, with eyes full of envy. "High level Pure-blood," Headmaster Valdris nodded with satisfaction. One by one, other students were called. Most glowed blue, a few glowed silver and had to stand to one side, with everyone around them seeming to deliberately step back to maintain distance clearly they were being discriminated against. "Lyra Light." Her name was called, and all eyes focused on her. Lyra stepped forward, her trembling hand placed on the ice cold stone column. "I am... Lyra Light." At first, nothing seemed to happen. The stone column remained dark, time slowly passed, Lyra Light's heart pounded with worry. Then, a faint sound like cracking glass rang out. The stone column began to show small cracks running along the ancient symbols. "What... what's happening?" a student whispered in horror. Headmaster Valdris moved closer, her voice trembling: "The Ancient Column... could it be..." Suddenly, a mad scream cut through the air. A brown haired male teacher in neat clothes suddenly had his eyes turn bright red. He lunged toward Lyra with extraordinary speed. "Blood kin! Destroy the Blood kin!" he roared and began chanting. Everyone backed away in terror. But Lyra, as if controlled by some power, stood still and opened her mouth: "You shall stand motionless until the end of time and become my sculpture." The power from that terrible spell was so strong it made the entire temple shake. The male student lunging toward her suddenly stopped mid air. His skin began turning gray, hardening. Within seconds, he had completely turned into a stone statue, his face still bearing the expression of horror. Absolute silence enveloped the temple. Lyra collapsed to the ground, holding her head and seeming to become frantic. "She used forbidden magic!" a pure-blood student screamed. "She stole forbidden power!" "That incantation..." Headmaster Valdris stepped back, her voice trembling with fear. Kael, who had stood still from the beginning, stepped forward and looked down at Lyra. In his ice blue eyes something changed, he suddenly gripped his chest tightly as if remembering something painful. "Headmaster," his voice was cold but with something unusual, "she needs to be thoroughly investigated." Headmaster Valdris quickly nodded, then ordered the supervisors: "Take her to Isolation Chamber Seven. No one is to have contact with her until everything is thoroughly investigated." Isolation Chamber Seven was a small, damp room located deep underground in the academy. There were no windows, only an old wooden table, a hard stone bed, and a tarnished bronze mirror hanging on the wall. Lyra slumped onto the bed, holding her head in her hands. The pain hadn't completely subsided, and strange images still occasionally flashed in her mind. She felt as though she had been here before perhaps not this exact room, but somewhere similar. Dark, cold, lonely. Suddenly, from the bronze mirror, a gentle voice rang out: "Hello there..." Lyra started, looking toward the mirror. In the misty metal surface, the image of a girl about her age slowly appeared. The girl had long silver hair, pale purple eyes, and a smile. "You... who are you?" Lyra asked cautiously. "I'm Serin," the girl in the mirror smiled. "Actually, I'm your fellow student. It's just that... right now I'm imprisoned in Isolation Chamber Eight, right next to you." "How can you talk through the mirror?" "This academy has many secrets," Serin winked. "All the bronze mirrors in the Isolation Chambers are connected by ancient magic. Convenient for... chatting." Lyra couldn't help but smile for the first time since waking up in the horse carriage. "So you're imprisoned too? Why?" Serin looked sheepish: "Well... I may have accidentally burned down the entire forbidden library on the third floor. And may have accidentally released a few small demons. And also may have accidentally..." "Enough," Lyra giggled. "You're really dangerous." "What about you? I heard you turned a student to stone right during the entrance ceremony. Impressive!" Lyra's face darkened again. "I don't know what I did. Those words... they just naturally poured out of my mouth." "Hmm," Serin became more serious, "ancient magical language isn't something a new student could use. Do you have any connection to it in your past?" Lyra shook her head. "I only remember my name. And... and this." She lifted her hair, revealing the dark red crescent shaped mark behind her neck. She seemed to have completely forgotten the warning written in the letter. Serin in the mirror suddenly changed completely. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a sharp coldness Lyra had never seen. "That's... the mark of Blood-kin," Serin whispered, her voice no longer cheerful as before. "You know about Blood kin?" Serin sighed softly. "I know many things," Serin replied vaguely. "And one of the things I know is... you're in a very dangerous situation, Lyra Light." Before Lyra could ask more, footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. Serin's image in the mirror gradually faded. "Be careful, Lyra," Serin's voice was like a final whisper before disappearing completely. "Not everyone here is your friend." Outside in the corridor, Kael Vireon stood before the door of Isolation Chamber Seven. He had been standing there for a long time, listening to every sound from inside. When everything became quiet, he knelt down and looked through the small keyhole. The dim light from the candle inside the room revealed Lyra sitting on the bed, holding her head. Memories he had tried to bury for so long suddenly flooded back. A little girl with black hair, purple eyes, desperate crying, red flames. "Is it really you?" he whispered, his voice trembling in a way he didn't seem to recognize. Inside the room, Lyra suddenly raised her head, as if she had heard someone. But when she turned to look toward the door, there was no one left in the corridor. Only the sound of wind whistling through the door cracks remained, like some whisper. And in the darkness, the crescent mark behind Lyra's neck was glowing dimly, gradually fading away.