Forbidden corridor
775 Words
That night, Liora couldn’t sleep.
The academy was quieter after sunset, but not truly silent. It breathed in strange ways—walls creaking like distant whispers, corridors shifting as if rearranging secrets, and faint bursts of magic echoing from training towers far away.
She kept staring at her wrist.
The silver gate mark was still there.
But beneath it—faint, almost invisible—was something darker.
Like ink trapped under skin.
Every time she focused on it, a sharp pulse of energy answered back, as if it was aware she was watching.
“What did you do to me?” she murmured.
No answer came.
Only the window trembled slightly in response.
The next morning, Liora tried to act normal.
That was difficult in a place where “normal” included students levitating across courtyards and books flying themselves into people’s hands.
Mira caught up with her near the dining hall, balancing a tray that floated obediently beside her.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Mira said brightly.
“I didn’t.”
Mira leaned closer. “Was it Kael?”
Liora hesitated.
That was answer enough.
Mira sighed dramatically. “Of course it was. He does that to people.”
“I didn’t even talk to him,” Liora replied.
“That doesn’t matter,” Mira said. “Being near him is enough.”
They entered the dining hall, and Liora immediately felt it—the shift in atmosphere.
Whispers. Stares. Silence that wasn’t natural.
At the far end of the hall, Kael sat alone.
As usual.
Except this time, when Liora stepped inside, his gaze lifted immediately.
Straight to her.
Mira went pale. “Oh no…”
“What?” Liora whispered.
“He’s looking at you again.”
Liora forced herself not to react.
Kael’s expression didn’t change. But something about his focus felt heavier than before—like he was testing a boundary only he could see.
Then, slowly, he looked away.
And the entire room relaxed at once.
Mira exhaled. “You need to avoid him. Seriously.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Liora said.
“That’s the problem,” Mira replied.
After classes, Liora followed her schedule through the academy’s lower archives. She was assigned to retrieve old spell texts for homework—simple, boring, safe.
Or so she thought.
The archive was deep underground, carved into stone older than the academy itself. The air was cold and smelled like dust and forgotten magic.
Rows of books floated in place, chained by glowing locks.
Liora moved carefully between them, searching for her assigned section.
That’s when she noticed it.
A corridor she hadn’t seen before.
It wasn’t on the map.
The hallway was narrow, dark, and without lanterns. Yet something at the end of it pulsed faintly—like a heartbeat made of magic.
She hesitated.
Then the mark on her wrist warmed.
Without meaning to, she stepped closer.
The moment her foot crossed into the corridor, the world shifted.
The sound of the archive disappeared.
Even the air felt heavier.
“Bad idea,” she whispered to herself.
But her feet kept moving.
At the end of the corridor stood a door made of black stone, etched with symbols she didn’t recognize. The mark on her wrist burned now—no longer faint, but alive.
As if reacting to the door.
As if it belonged here.
Liora reached out.
The moment her fingers touched the stone, a voice spoke behind her.
“Don’t open that.”
She spun around.
Kael Draven stood at the entrance of the corridor.
But he didn’t look calm this time.
His eyes were sharp—alert in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“This section is sealed,” he said.
Liora pulled her hand back quickly. “Why is my mark reacting to it?”
A flicker passed through his expression.
“You have the Gate Seal,” he said quietly.
Liora frowned. “The what?”
Kael stepped closer, stopping just a few feet away.
For once, he didn’t feel distant.
He felt… tense.
“That mark on your wrist,” he said, “is not just a student insignia.”
The air seemed to tighten.
“It’s a key,” he continued. “And that door—”
He glanced at the black stone.
“—is a lock that should never be opened again.”
The mark on Liora’s wrist pulsed violently.
The door answered.
A faint crack appeared in its surface.
Kael’s voice dropped lower.
“Step away,” he said. “Now.”
But it was too late.
The seal was already waking up.
- Writer
