The Calyra dormitories loomed across the norhtern courtyard, a series of ancient edifices distant from the hallowed main Archives. A long, winding stone path led the way, meandering beneath weathered archways and skirting the shallow channels of murmuring water.
On most nights, a tranquil stillness enveloped the air. Yet tonight, an unsettling hollowness pervaded the atmosphere. It felt as if some unseen hand had pressed upon reality, leaving an indelible mark.
I ventured out in the crisp night, wrapping my coat tighter around me. Flickering lamps lined the walkway, their feeble glow casting long, spindly shadows that reached beyond reason. Above the library towers, the sky was a vast canvas, unmarred by clouds--yet the moon appeared as if it were shrouded in gauze, its light dulled and ethereal.
A distant bell tolled from the depths of the campus. It was not our bell. Ours rang with clarity and purpose. This one reverberated...twisted. It sounded as though it were suffocated by dust, a mournful echo resonating through the night.
I dismissed it as nothing more than the usual. Likely just the Theology wing, with its ancient bells and peculiar rites echoing through the halls.
The stones beneath my boots clicked sharply, the sound reverberating as if I trod through a cavernous tomb rather than an open courtyard.
As I traversed the northern archway, it reached out to me--a whisper.
Soft as the falling dust. Dry as the empty air. Trailing in my wake.
At first, I assumed it was merely the wind weaving through the aged stone pillars. Then, the whisper materialized into a name.
"...Vaerin..."
My heart raced, each pulse a painful thud. Mistress Kallith's warning throbbed in my thoughts: If you wanted to dream tonight...do not converse with that which knows your name.
Yet I knew I was not dreaming. At least--I hoped I wasn't.
With great caution, I turned my head. The courtyard stood vacant. The wind had ceased its breath. The shadows clung still.
Then, from the edge of my vision--something shifted. A reflection. A glimmer. Like a shard of mirror cunningly angled to catch the lamplight.
I spun around.
For a brief heartbeat, I beheld what appeared to be a face--faint, distant, distorted like an image scrawled upon the surfasce of rippling water.
Then it was gone. No mirror remained. No figure. Only the chill of the night air and the soft rustle of leaves.
I steeled myself to continue moving. Step after step, resolutely refusing to glance back. I would not grant whatever lingered there the triumph of my fear.
Yet, the lamps dimmed behind me, flickering one by one, as if something was trailing close--slipping beneath each light, snuffing it was it passed.
I reached the dormitories just as the final lamp shuddered into near darkness. With trembling hands, I fumbled for my key, hastily slamming the door shut.
Silence. At last. No whisper. No echo.
I leaned against the door, willing my pulse to subside.
Then my gaze feel upon something on the floor. A small card. Thin, rectangular, flecked with silver. Neither parchment nor paper. Something smoother, glossier. Like the surface of a mirror wrested from its frame.
Engraved upon it was a single word--my name.
Vaerin.
Beneath the name, faint yet discernible in the lamplight: a distorition, as if a face had pressed against glass from the other side.
I dropped it immediately. It hit the ground without a sound.
Not even a whisper of a thud. As if it had never truly existed.
