That night Sera did not sleep.Every time her eyelids drooped, the whisper echoed again in her head. Welcome home. Sometimes the voice was clear, like someone standing right behind her. Sometimes it was muffled, as though carried through water. Each time, she snapped awake, heart hammering, eyes darting to the cracked mirror across the room.
It looked ordinary now. Dusty glass in a tarnished frame but Sera knew better. She had seen shadows move there. She had felt the air change, cold and heavy, as though someone else had stepped into the room.
Elara rolled over in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent before pulling the blanket tighter around her. The girl slept like a child, peaceful despite the storm of unease filling the room. Sera envied her for it.
At some point, the first pale streaks of dawn slipped through the narrow window. Sera pushed herself upright with a groan. Her back ached from the stiff mattress, her eyes burned, but she was grateful for the light. Somehow, daylight always thinned the edges of her fear.
She dressed quickly in black uniform, white collar, the academy's crest stitched over the breast in red thread. a thorn-wrapped tower. The sight of it made her skin prickle.
Elara yawned awake as Sera laced her boots. "Morning."
Sera glanced at her. "Barely."
"You didn't sleep." It wasn't a question. Elara's sharp gaze took in the shadows under Sera's eyes.
"Didn't feel like it," Sera muttered.
Elara shrugged, unbothered. "First night's always rough. You'll get used to it." Sera doubted that.
Breakfast was served in the Great Hall, a cavernous chamber with vaulted ceilings and chandeliers dripping wax. Long tables stretched end to end, filled with students in black uniforms identical to hers. Murmurs rippled across the room, bouncing between stone walls.
As Sera entered, conversations faltered. Dozens of eyes slid toward her, some curious, others cold.
She kept her gaze forward, jaw set, and followed Elara to an empty stretch of bench.
"New girl," someone whispered behind her. "Looks like she hasn't slept in a week."
"She's in Dusk Wing," another said, voice hushed. "Figures."
Sera clenched her fork tight enough the metal bit into her palm. She hated whispers. Hated the way they always followed her.
Elara leaned closer. "Ignore them. They're vultures. You'll stop noticing after a while."
Sera didn't answer. Instead, she forced down a few bites of bread and watery porridge, her stomach turning with every swallow.
After breakfast, the students were split into groups for orientation. Madame Draven herself appeared at the front of the hall, her presence silencing the crowd instantly.
"Blackthorn Academy is not a place of indulgence," she said, her voice slicing through the hush. "It is a crucible. You will be tested, forged, broken if necessary, until you are worthy to remain. Some of you will not last the year. That is the way of things."
The words sent a shiver through the hall. Sera caught glimpses of nervous glances exchanged, though no one dared speak.
Madame Draven's gaze swept the room and, for a moment, locked with Sera's. The faintest curl touched her lips, as though she had expected her reaction all along. Sera looked away first.
The morning dragged with lectures on rules and traditions. No wandering after midnight. No entering the east wing. No questions about the academy's history beyond what was taught.
Each rule felt less like guidance and more like a threat.
By midday, Sera's head pounded. She slipped into the nearest empty corridor, needing space to breathe.
The air there was colder. Dust clung to the corners. Unlike the bustling main halls, this wing felt forgotten.
And at the far end, half-covered by a sheet, stood a tall mirror. Her stomach clenched.
She should walk away. She knew better. But her feet moved on their own, carrying her closer until she stood before it.
The sheet slid off easily, falling to the floor in a cloud of dust.
The mirror's surface was fractured with fine cracks, spiderwebbing from the center. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and tense then it shifted. Her reflection's mouth moved though hers did not. The voice that followed was soft, urgent. Find us.
Sera stumbled back, colliding with the wall. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
When she looked again, the mirror showed only herself shaken, breathless, but alone.
"You shouldn't be here."
The voice came from behind her. Sera spun to find a boy leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed. His uniform collar was loose, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
Rowan Vey. She recognized him instantly not because she had met him before, but because his name was the one students whispered with a mix of awe and disdain.
"Neither should you," Sera shot back.
He smirked. "The difference is, I don't get caught." His eyes flicked to the mirror. "Careful. Stare too long into those things and you'll lose more than your reflection."
Sera's jaw tightened. "You're not funny."
"Didn't say I was." He pushed off the wall, circling her like a predator with nothing better to do. "New girl, Dusk Wing, already poking into forbidden corridors… You'll fit right in." "I don't want to fit in."
Rowan's grin widened. "Good. The ones who try usually end up in the infirmary. Or the ground."
Before she could reply, footsteps echoed from the far end of the hall. Rowan vanished into the shadows like smoke, leaving her alone just as a teacher appeared.
"Miss Dusk," the teacher snapped. "Orientation is not optional."
Sera clenched her fists and forced herself back into line. But the mirror's whisper clung to her all afternoon. Find us.
That night, back in Room 313, Elara noticed Sera's silence.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, setting aside her sketchbook.
Sera almost laughed. Not one ghost. Dozens. But instead, she muttered, "I just hate this place."
Elara's smile was soft, almost sad. "Everyone does at first. You'll learn its rhythm."
"I don't want to learn it."
"Then maybe," Elara said, lying back on her pillow, "you're here to change it."
Sera didn't answer. She lay awake long after Elara drifted off, staring at the cracked mirror on their wall.
Her reflection blinked back at her.
Then, in the silence, a whisper curled like smoke.
Find us… before it's too late.