Tuesday Evening
[Valen's POV]
Enid and the others had gathered around me.
With them close, it was… nice, in a way I'd never admit out loud, and it was practical. Easier to protect them if anything happened.
The Quad was totally packed.
Students swarmed in clusters, the hum of chatter echoing in Nevermore's inner grounds. The fading sun painted the courtyard in bruised hues of violet and gold, shadows stretching long across the stone fountain at its center.
The air was thick with nerves and excitement for the ritual. After all, this was the first big event for us first year students in this institution.
We had drifted into a loose circle, my friends and I, the group who usually found trouble, or made it ourselves.
Alex lounged against the fountain like he owned it, cloak half-slid off his shoulder on purpose. Ajax was scrolling through something on his cracked phone, pretending not to care while glancing up every time a cute senior passed by.
"Do you think they'll make us chant in Latin again?" Alex muttered, tossing a pebble at the cobblestones. "Because, If they expect me to recite this in Latin, they better hand out subtitles."
Divina snorted. "Don't worry, you'll just mumble and hope no one notices. Worked for you in Chem."
"Yeah, and you totally aced Chem," he shot back.
She held up her phone, showing him something that flickered with glittery and weird filters. "At least I didn't spend 2 months trying to charm a Shapeshifter."
Their bickering set the group off laughing.
Nearby, I caught whispers from another group of students, someone complaining that the cloaks made everyone look like they were in "the worst Instagram filter ever,"... um? what? and another daring their friend to "do a ritual TikTok dance when Weems isn't looking."
Around us, cloaks swayed in the dusky air.
And no two cloaks in here were the same. Some sagged with crooked stitches and frayed hems, others flashed with silver chains or bold embroidery. Tiny rebellions stitched into the black fabric, symbols of tribe, heritage, history, bloodline, pride. Each one was like a banner of where you came from, and who you claimed to be.
Just then, Enid leaned closer to me, smirking. "If this whole thing doesn't end up on someone's Story with a #SpookySeason tag, I'll eat my cloak."
I gave her a look, and she grinned wider. "What? You know I'm right."
I just smiled back at her goofiness.
Most seniors were still out arranging the ceremony. Torches already licked to life along the walls, casting restless flickers across the crowd.
Enid was beside me, of course. And she just caught me staring, and so with a sly flourish, pushed her cloak aside.
A green dress shimmered beneath, catching the last threads of daylight. Soft and warm... Does she have a superpower which makes her all fluffy? I mean, against all this black and shadow, she practically glowed.
"Like what you see?" she teased, biting her lip with that infuriating confidence.
I grinned back. Yeah. Too cute.
The noise around us died down when Principal Weems climbed the podium. Her presence swallowed the noise. Dressed in black silk that shimmered like shadow, she adjusted the microphone, and it gave a sharp ring that cut through the courtyard.
Her voice rolled smooth and commanding, "Tonight, we gather to honor the legacy of our founders! Their sacrifice, their vision, their tireless dedication to-"
And... I stopped listening.
Blah blah... Ritualistic blah, generic endless blah blah blah. Words which were carved in marble long before any of us were born.
Instead, my thoughts drifted to Silas Sane and the graveyard... That's where the Vigil would end. Maybe, if luck had a sense of humor, I'd find something of him there.
They must have found his raided grave when decorating that place, right?
Just then, Enid elbowed me, grinning. "You're not even paying attention, are you?"
"Pretty sure she's said the word legacy five times already," I muttered.
Enid smothered a laugh. "Six. She just said it again."
Finally, the announcement cut through the speakers, The Founders' Vigil begins!
With a rustle, all the cloaks swept in unison as students shifted into formation. Torches passed from hand to hand, firelight flaring alive. Music and chants rose, echoing through the road.
I felt eyes on me, Alex's. He stood just behind, expression steady, he gave me a subtle nod to stay sharp.
The line snaked out of the Quad, torches bobbing like a procession of fireflies against the growing dark. Seniors' chants rose and fell, low and rhythmic, pulling the crowd along. The air grew heavier the further we walked, the night folding around us.
Enid skipped a half-step closer, her cloak brushing mine, the edge of her green dress flashing beneath. "Okay, serious-face," she whispered, nudging my shoulder, "this is supposed to be spooky-fun, not spooky-grim-reaper, you know."
I didn't look at her. "One of us has to keep an eye out."
"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes, bumping me harder. "What are you expecting? The founders to crawl out and critique your handsomeness?"
That pulled a low laugh out of me. "Wouldn't be the weirdest thing."
Behind us, Alex snorted. "Yeah, you'd probably argue with them about your jawline."
"Or lose," Yoko added, smirking as she adjusted her cloak.
"Keep talking," I said without looking back, "and I'll let the ghosts critique your faces first."
That earned a round of chuckles, easing the edge of the woods as the torchlight thinned. The path narrowed between leaning trees, the graveyard curling in around us.
Enid's laugh spilled brighter than the rest, but then it faltered, cutting off like someone had flipped a switch. Her nose twitched once, twice. Then her shoulders locked.
I caught it immediately. "What?"
Her head tilted, eyes narrowing as she drew in a sharp breath. "Rot," she whispered. The playfulness in her voice was gone. "Something smells like rot... like a dead body..."
Before I could answer, the torches flared unnaturally bright. Heat slapped my face, too sudden, too strong. And then, an entire row of flames hissed out. A section of the procession drowned in darkness.
Gasps. Stumbles. Someone whispered, "What the hell-?"
"Um, it's not a ghost, is it?"
"Guy's actually... I think I am gonna go back..."
Nervous laughter skittered through the crowd. A few muttered about "Nevermore's dramatic effects."
Staff forced smiles, murmuring about the wind. But this definitely wasn't the wind. Wind could gust, sure... but not flip between feeding fire and killing it in the same breath.
My gut tightened. Something was wrong.
"Vaaaalllennn…"
Suddenly a whisper slid through the trees like smoke, thin and curling, brushing the back of my neck. My name... dragged out, faint but unmistakable. It was too close and too clear.
I whipped around, scanning, the hairs at my neck prickled. That was really creepy, why are you behaving like the NUN?
Enid froze, eyes wide. "I heard something..."
Behind me, Alex tensed, gaze slicing into the shadows. The three of us locked in. Something was going so wrong.
The procession spilled into the graveyard, torchlight dripping long, jagged shadows across crooked stones. The air turned colder and heavy with the perfume of damp soil, wilted flowers and rusted iron gates.
Enid's hand grabbed my sleeve. Her fingers were cold, and her eyes fixed on something past the torchlight.
I followed her gaze.
A figure.
Still as stone at the far edge of the graves. Cloaked and unmoving. A shadow detached from shadows.
No one else saw. Students kept marching, whispering low now, their ceremony sinking into fanatism. Staff hovered to maintain order. But for us, just us, the figure anchored the world.
I blinked and it was gone.
But I knew. I knew who that person was... It was definitely the teacher who had gone missing, Mr. Einar
Is that fucker playing a prank?
Just then, Alex moved before I could react. He broke from the line.
"Hey! Where are you going?" I shouted.
But he didn't respond back, disappearing into shadow, as few other voices rose behind mine,"You can't just run off!""I'm reporting this!""Seriously, we're supposed to stick together!"
His cloak snapped behind him as he sprinted toward the trees, heading the opposite way from where I'd seen the man, disappearing into the darkness.
I swore under my breath and started after, only to stop dead.
Cause there... between the gravestones, was...
Einar. Again...
Half-drenched in shadow, his mouth twisted into a smirk sharp enough to cut. His eyes locked with mine, gleaming like a dare.
Every instinct screamed in me to not Follow. But would i listen?
I would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie.
Alex could handle himself, he always did. But Einar? Whatever this was, whatever game he thought he was playing, I wasn't letting him slip away again.
I bolted towards him, shouts echoing behind me, even from my friends.
Enid's footsteps closed in fast.
"Valen, stop! We should go back. This feels dangerous," she hissed, tugging my sleeve. Her werewolf instincts had clearly picked up on the dread hanging in the air.
"No." I shoved forward. "I'm too deep in this to back out. Go back, Enid. It's definitely going to get dangerous."
Her grip tightened, her voice cutting through the dark. "No! If you're not turning back, then I'm coming with you. I can handle myself."
I bit back a reply. Stubborn as stone, this girl. She'd follow no matter what I said.
"…Alright," I muttered.
It's alright, I'll protect you. I have to. After all, I'm strong.
Behind us, the Vigil continued on, students chanting, torches weaving in patterns of light, oblivious.
But ahead, in the far dark of the graveyard, the figure waited. Mr. Einar.
His smile widened, fanatic, eerie, like he'd been expecting me all along.
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Milestone : Every 400 powerstones = +1 bonus chapter!
Current progression → (347/400)!!
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