Blade institute: the unseen prophecy

27

The drive back to the Institute was a blur of dark roads and tangled thoughts. The weight of the journal in my lap felt like a leaden anchor pulling me deeper into the unknown. The encounter with those creatures and the cryptic power of the stone had shaken me to my core, yet I couldn't find it within myself to tell him. Not yet.

As we pulled up to the Institute, the familiar sight of its grand, ancient architecture brought me little comfort. The imposing building, which had once felt like a sanctuary, now loomed over me, cold and indifferent. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking into a den of secrets, with everyone around me playing a part in a story I wasn't meant to understand.

We parked the car in the lot, and I could feel his eyes on me, searching for any sign of what I was thinking. But I was already closing myself off, sealing away my fears and doubts behind a mask of indifference. I couldn't let him, or anyone, see the turmoil churning inside me.

"We'll need to report what happened," he said, his voice careful, as if testing the waters.

"I know," I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady.

He hesitated, as if sensing the distance I was putting between us, but eventually nodded. "We should go straight to the Headmaster."

I nodded in agreement, but as I stepped out of the car, my mind was already made up—I wasn't going to tell the Headmaster everything. The mission details, yes. The discovery of the stone, yes. But the journal, the strange pull, and the revelations that had begun to form in the back of my mind—those were mine alone, at least for now.

We walked side by side into the Institute, the weight of our silence thick between us. The halls were dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to cling to the corners like secrets waiting to be uncovered. Every step echoed off the stone walls, a reminder of the oppressive reality that had settled over us.

When we reached the Headmaster's office, he gestured for me to enter first. I hesitated, casting a quick glance at him, but his expression was unreadable. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, steeling myself for the encounter ahead.

The Headmaster was waiting for us behind his desk, his expression as stern and inscrutable as ever. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering on the walls, casting eerie shadows that danced in the corners.

"Well?" he asked, his voice as cold as the room itself.

I recounted the mission, sticking to the facts—our journey into the northern woods, the strange disturbances, the creatures, and the stone structure. I kept my tone clinical, detached, not letting any emotion seep through. I couldn't afford to show weakness, not here.

The Headmaster listened in silence, his sharp eyes never leaving mine. When I finished, he nodded once, a gesture that felt more like a dismissal than anything else.

"Good work," he said flatly. "We'll analyze the information you've gathered. You're dismissed."

I hesitated, feeling the weight of the journal in my bag. For a brief moment, I considered pulling it out, laying it on the desk, and demanding answers. But something stopped me—something deep inside that whispered that now was not the time. Not yet.

I nodded curtly and turned to leave, but as I reached the door, a thought struck me, and I paused. The demons, the creatures, the sense that something was hunting me—it was all too much of a coincidence. The pieces were starting to fit together, but I needed confirmation.

"Headmaster," I said, turning back to face him. "The demons... are they after me?"

He didn't respond immediately, and when he did, it was with a measured calmness that sent a shiver down my spine. "Yes," he said simply. "They are."