Chapter 19: A New Dawn, A New Shadow
Morning sunlight spilled through the towering crystal windows of the Verdant Mist Academy, scattering tiny rainbows across the polished stone floors. The academy grounds bustled with life — students dressed in flowing robes of green and silver hurried between classes, laughter and excited chatter filling the warm spring air.
Birds flitted among the sprawling vines that climbed the marble pillars, and the scent of freshly baked pastries from the dining hall lingered on the breeze.
It was a day like any other — or so it seemed.
At the heart of the academy, nestled among gardens of shimmering blue flowers, a group of first-year students sat together on the grass, books and half-eaten sandwiches strewn around them.
"Hey, hey! You have jam on your nose!" giggled Ira, a petite girl with curly auburn hair tied in messy twin tails. She leaned over and wiped a crumb from her friend's face with the sleeve of her loose academy robe, which was embroidered with tiny star patterns.
"Iraaa, don't wipe it with your sleeve, that's gross!" whined Mina, a soft-spoken girl whose round glasses kept sliding down her nose. Her uniform looked a little too big for her, the sleeves constantly slipping over her hands.
A few steps away, Seth, a tall boy with wild black hair and sleepy golden eyes, lazily lay back on the grass, arms behind his head.
"Let them be," he drawled, smirking. "It's not a picnic without someone making a mess."
The tallest among them, Rhea, stood nearby leaning on her staff. Her short, jet-black hair was ruffled by the breeze, and her sharp silver eyes watched the others with quiet amusement. She wore her uniform perfectly — every button fastened, every line straight — but there was a softness in her gaze when she looked at them.
It was a peaceful afternoon.
Classes had ended early. The sky was a soft, endless blue. The air smelled of wildflowers and old books. It was the kind of day that made you believe nothing bad could ever happen.
Later, as evening settled over the academy, the students moved indoors.
The lanterns lining the stone hallways flickered gently, casting warm golden light against the ancient walls. Chatter echoed from the dining hall where students gathered for supper, the air filled with the clatter of plates and soft laughter.
Ira skipped ahead of the group, her boots tapping against the stone.
"I call dibs on the last strawberry tart!" she declared dramatically.
"Dream on," Seth yawned, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm faster than you."
"No way!" Ira pouted.
They raced down the corridor, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
Mina and Rhea followed more slowly. Mina clutched her book close to her chest, shyly smiling at their antics.
Rhea's smile was small but genuine.
She watched them — these silly, wonderful friends of hers — and felt something warm grow in her chest.
That night, everything changed.
The wind shifted.
A heavy mist rolled over the academy grounds.
The usual lively evening chatter was muted tonight. Lanterns flickered, and distant howls of wind threaded through the halls.
They were restless and decided to take a walk outside to clear their heads. They passed by the gardens — a shortcut they all often used
That's when they heard it.
A soft cry.
Barely audible.
They froze.
The mist was thick, cold against their skin, curling around the hedges like living things.
A shiver ran down her spine.
And then — another sound.
A choking gasp.
Cautiously, heart hammering in their chest, they crept closer.
Through the veil of fog, they saw it — a small, crumpled figure lying on the grass beneath the willow tree.
It was Ira.
"Ira" They all whispered, voice trembling.
Ira lay unnaturally still, one arm bent beneath her at an odd angle.
Her robe was torn at the shoulder, stained dark with blood that pooled quietly beneath her.
Her eyes — always so bright and full of mischief — stared blankly upward, glassy and unfocused.
Her mouth was slightly open, as if she had tried to call for help... and failed.
They stumbled forward, dropping to their knees beside their friend.
"Ira! Ira!" They cried, shaking her.
No response.
No breath.
No warmth.
Just the endless silence of death.
For a long moment, they could only stare, their mind refusing to accept what their eyes saw.
Ira — lively, fiery Ira — was dead.
---
In the darkness, footsteps echoed.
They whipped around — but saw no one.
Only shadows twisting in the mist.
Panic gripped them. They looked back at Ira — but the fog had thickened, swallowing her small, still body from view.
Was this real?
Or was it a nightmare?
They ran.
They didn't even remember how they each got back to their dorm room.
They only knew that each of them spent the entire night curled up in bed, trembling under their blanket, waiting for the sun to rise and banish the horror.
The next morning, the sun rose like nothing had happened.
Birds chirped. Students laughed. The world spun onward, golden and careless.
In the courtyard, Ira waved excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Morning, sleepyheads!" she called, grinning ear to ear.
Mina blinked.
Seth froze mid-step.
Rhea dropped her staff.
Because Ira — bright, giggling Ira — had died the night before.
They had found her in the garden, body twisted unnaturally, eyes wide and glassy under the bloodied moon.
Yet here she was. Laughing. Smiling. Alive.
Not a single scratch on her.
"Ira..." Mina whispered, voice trembling.
"What's with those faces? Did you all stay up too late studying again?" Ira teased, hands on her hips. She wore the same uniform, the same silver hair ribbon, the same scuffed boots — even the strawberry jam stain from yesterday still dotted her sleeve.
It made no sense.
It couldn't be.
And yet — there she was.
Real. Warm. Alive.
The four of them sat together on the grass again. Just like always.
But this time, Rhea didn't laugh.
Seth didn't tease.
Mina didn't smile.
They watched Ira — every movement, every word — with a silent, suffocating dread coiling in their chests.
When Ira giggled and bit into a tart, crumbs falling onto her lap, Rhea flinched.
When Ira grabbed Mina's hand to pull her into a game, Mina stiffened like she had touched fire.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Nothing felt real.
The sun shone too bright.
The birds sang too loudly.
Everything seemed to sway, like the world itself was... wrong.
That night, as the last bell rang and the academy slipped into slumber, Rhea sat alone by her window, staring out at the mist that had begun to creep along the ground again.
In her lap, a crumpled note trembled in her hands — a note she had found tucked under her pillow just hours ago.
It read, in shaky, ink-blotted letters:
"She is not what she seems."
And beneath it, scrawled in a hurried second hand:
"Neither are you."