By evening, the academy buzzed with whispers. Leo Griffin's "incident" had spread faster than wildfire. Students leaned across desks, murmuring about the boy who had supposedly fallen into a stream. Most rolled their eyes, but a few glanced at him with something akin to curiosity—or fear.
Leo kept his head down, feigning focus on his notes. Every glance from his classmates felt like a blade against his skin. If they knew… if they only knew… He forced the thought away. He couldn't let anyone see the truth—what the forest had done to him, what had begun stirring in his veins.
Shadows stretched long across the classroom, evening light filtering through tall windows. In that dim glow, Leo could almost feel it—something watching, something waiting. The whispers in his mind returned, faint but deliberate: "This is only the beginning… prepare."
A friend, a rare one, leaned over and whispered, "Leo… are you okay? You look… different."
He shook his head slightly, offering a tight smile. "I'm fine. Just… tired from training."
The boy nodded, unconvinced, and returned to his own work. But Leo couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were alive, that unseen eyes tracked his every move.
Tonight, he thought, the world was no longer as safe—or as ordinary—as he had believed.