We shook her arm until she finally jolted awake, gasping like she'd surfaced from drowning.
"My head…" she whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "It feels like I stepped out of blinding sunlight—I can't see clearly." She pushed herself off the ground, managing to sit upright. "Is he…"
Her words froze as her eyes landed on the High Mage's body, motionless, his skin drained to a bluish white.
"He's dead," Ryan muttered, breathless. "This is all my fault. He used to read people's pasts and futures… I didn't think it would kill him." He looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Crystal. You should go. I don't want you dragged any deeper into this. I've already caused enough trouble." He opened the door.
"Yeah, no argument there," Shawn snapped, glaring at him while helping Cris to her feet.
We slipped out quickly, hurrying to the main hall's archway. Pretending nothing had happened, we stood around chatting like we'd been there all along.
Within minutes, Mrs. Leonardo stepped onto a small stage at the center of the hall. She tapped her glass with a spoon, commanding the room's attention.
We moved closer as she cleared her throat.
"We're here to celebrate—the moment we've waited for is finally here," she announced. "I want you all to meet our long-awaited student with her friends—the key characters of a journey that's only just beginning." She smiled warmly and extended her hand toward us.
I stepped onto the stage and stood beside her.
"Let us welcome Ms. Zinnia Paragon, daughter of Mr. Raymond Paragon and his beloved wife, Lady Liana!" she announced.
Whispers erupted. All eyes turned to me.
"Mrs. Leonardo… I think there's been a mistake," I whispered to her. "My mother's name is Mary, not Liana. And it's James, not Raymond."
In response, she squeezed my hand.
"We'll discuss this later," she said with a practiced smile.
Just then, the doors burst open.
"The High Mage is dead! The High Mage is dead!" a student shouted, stumbling into the hall.
"What?" Mrs. Leonardo turned sharply, her face going pale.
The room erupted in murmurs. Without wasting a second, she hurried toward the tower door, flanked by guards.
Before she could enter, Robin intercepted her, whispering something in her ear. Whatever it was made Mrs. Leonardo freeze, then turn and glare directly at me… and then at Ryan.
"What's her problem?" Cris growled, stepping forward. I caught her arm.
"Don't," I whispered. "Avoid her. We don't even know what Robin told her."
I was angry too, but after everything Cris had already been through, I wasn't about to let her get dragged into more trouble.
Later, I knocked on Cris's door. I just wanted to check on her.
"It's me," I called gently.
To my surprise, the door opened on its own. I stepped back. "Uh… how did that happen?" I asked, walking in slowly.
She was lying on her bed, but sat up with a faint smile. "Let me show you."
She looked at the door. "Close," she said—and it shut.
"Whoa," I blinked, stunned. "You never wondered why the doors here don't have locks?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shook my head, genuinely clueless.
"Try to open it," she offered.
I tried pushing it… nothing. It wouldn't budge. I looked at her, confused.
"Open up," she said calmly, and the door creaked open again.
"Only the room's owner can open or close it," she explained.
It was incredible—but her expression was blank, like none of it mattered.
I sat beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know what to say," she murmured, eyes fixed on the floor. "Yesterday, I thought I was a killer. And now… now I find out I can predict death."
She took a shaky breath. "And the worst part? The man who told me… died right after. While holding my hands."
Her voice cracked. "I don't know if I should be relieved that I didn't kill him, or broken that he died *because* he told me."
She buried her face in her palms.
"I can only imagine what you're feeling," I whispered, wrapping my arms around her. "But you're not alone. You have me. Always."
Afterward, I left her to rest. She'd been through too much—she needed it. I returned to my room, hoping that sleep might make things better.
But that was the problem. I couldn't even blink without seeing that old man's lifeless body. Sleep felt impossible.
Eventually, I gave up trying. Without caring about the time, I headed to the Headmistress's office. Strangely, she opened the door after just my second knock—almost as if she'd been expecting me.
My guilt spiked the moment I noticed the clock. The small hand pointed to three, the big one to four.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" I began, but she took my wrist gently and pulled me inside.
"It's okay," she whispered, wrapping her arms around me.
She held me, and I didn't know why—but I felt something. A deep, unspoken connection. Hesitantly, I rested my hands on her back.
When she finally pulled away, she smiled through tearful eyes—a smile full of warmth, but also loss. A second later, that smile faded, leaving only the tears.
That's when I understood—she must've been close to the High Mage.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, lips pressed together.
"It's not your fault," she murmured, lowering her gaze.
"No, you don't understand… I went upstairs on my own," I lied, stumbling over the words. "And my friends… they only followed because they never let me get into trouble alone."
I kept lying—just so she wouldn't blame them.
"Zinnia, it's okay," she sighed. Her calmness caught me off guard.
"You're… not mad?" I blinked, staring at her wide-eyed.
"Why would I be?" she replied gently. "I know you went up there because you had questions."
There was something about the way she spoke—so soft, so understanding. Nothing like the cold, sharp tone my old principal used to have.
"I know you might be scared," she continued, walking slowly, "but he was the last person you needed to fear. He never meant anyone harm."
She paused, then added, "In fact, he was the one who asked to be locked up. He was afraid… of being corrupted."
"Corrupted? What do you mean?" I asked, following her gaze.
"He was a mage—and a mage can be dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands." She sat beside me, her voice lower now. "Years ago, he began having visions. Of people using a mage… to conquer the world."
I sat up straighter. "Wait—you said *a* mage. Him or *her*? Are there others? And who are *they*?"
The more she answered, the more questions I had.
"At first, we believed he was the last," she admitted. "But now… we think there's at least one more. And whoever it is, they're not on our side."
She looked tense now, her expression shifting.
"How can you be so sure?" I asked, sensing her fear.
"A seer is a type of mage. But there's a difference between a seer and a mage," she explained. "A seer can choose to see—and stop. But a mage… visions come to them uninvited. Uncontrollable." Her voice trailed off.
Now I understood why she was so worried. If the enemy had a seer, nothing we planned was safe. We'd be exposed, vulnerable—every move predictable unless it was pure instinct.
"I was terrified when he held her hands," I murmured, the memory still fresh. "And when he started predicting… especially when he said, 'I can give you support as much as I can'—I panicked."
She suddenly gripped both my shoulders, her eyes wide, searching mine.
"What are you saying? Who are you talking about? He held *whom*?"
The urgency in her voice told me she was about to say something I wasn't ready to hear. My hands trembled as I whispered, "Cris…"
Her expression darkened instantly. "Then his death wasn't just an accident…" she muttered. "But… how could he pass his powers to an ordinary girl?"
She turned away and began pacing the room, faster with each step.
"I'm not sure how 'ordinary' Cris really is," I said nervously. "He called her something… something like the Harbinger of—" I faltered, struggling to remember.
"*Harbinger of Death!*" she snapped to a stop. "That's why she shattered Freddy's door!"
I blinked. "Wait—how do you know that?"
"Robin told me," she answered, already moving toward the door. "I need to see Cris. Now!"
"She's sleeping," I said quickly.
She hesitated, then nodded. "We'll see her in the morning. You should rest."
She smiled, trying to ease the tension.
"Can I ask why Robin always shows up when no one else is around?" I teased with a half-smile.
"She's a little nosy, isn't she?" she chuckled.
Then I looked at her seriously. "But what about Cris? Is she in danger? Why were you so worried?"
Her smile faded.
She sat beside me on the couch. "The path fate has carved for her… It's not an easy one. When I was young, the High Mage began having visions—dark, disturbing ones. The thoughts consumed him. He fought them for years, until the day his eyes… turned inward. He could no longer see what was in front of him, only what hid beneath or behind." Her voice cracked. "He asked us to lock him away. We built that silver-lined cell to keep wolves at bay."
She closed her eyes, the memory clearly painful. "I was there the night it happened… when his eyes shifted. The pain he was in—" Her voice broke. "There are no words."
"I believe you," I whispered, gently rubbing her shoulder.
"But… what does any of this have to do with me or my dad?" I hesitated. "And I wanted to ask—about the names you used for my parents earlier…"
She gave a strange smile. "James is my brother. I know what you're trying to say. I should've mentioned the names you know—your parents. But I wasn't talking about James and Mary—at least not as your biological parents."
My chest tightened. "James and Mary are my parents—you must be mistaken."
She leaned back, eyes heavy with regret. "I know James better than you think, Zinnia. He *is* your father's brother. But I need you to keep that to yourself—for now."
"You said it again! My dad *is* James! And… wait—are you saying you're my aunt? Then why are you so confused about who my parents are?" My voice was shaking, and none of this made sense.
Her face fell. Her eyes filled with shame. "Oh…" she whispered. "You really believe James and Mary are your biological parents…"
I stared at her, stunned.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Forget I said anything."
She stood up to leave, but I grabbed her hand. I couldn't let her go—not when the questions burning inside me might finally have answers.