The forgotten darkness

Chapter 2: Shadows of Doubt

Chapter 2: Shadows of Doubt

Morning sunlight streamed through Lyra’s window, casting a warm glow across her room. The forest beyond looked less menacing in the daylight, though the memory of the dreams lingered, nagging at her thoughts. She had barely slept, his shadow a constant presence haunting the edges of her mind. As she dressed, Lyra tried to shake the lingering sensation that the shadows were watching her, but it clung to her, a whisper she couldn’t escape.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts. “You ready, Lyra?” It was Elaine, grinning as she peeked around the door. She had that usual spark in her eyes, her energy so vibrant it made the room feel brighter. Lyra forced a smile, trying to mask the exhaustion that weighed on her.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” As they walked to school, Lyra felt a strange relief, as if Elaine’s presence could banish the darkness that had taken root in her mind.

Lyra’s first class was History, her favorite subject, but today even Mr. Callahan’s stories about ancient battles couldn’t hold her attention. She stared at the map hanging on the wall, her mind drifting back to the strange figure in her dreams. He was always there, waiting, silent, his hand outstretched as if reaching through the mist. The memory of his whisper, Help me…, felt more vivid now, almost like a lingering echo, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow real.

“Lyra?” Mr. Callahan’s voice cut through her thoughts, jolting her back to the present. She blinked, realizing that the entire class had turned to look at her, their faces a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Um… sorry, what was the question?” she asked, her cheeks flushing as she tried to regain her bearings.

Mr. Callahan raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to concern. “I asked if you could explain the impact of the treaty on the war’s aftermath. You seemed rather engrossed, so I assumed you were listening.”

Lyra’s face grew even warmer, and she fumbled for an answer. “Uh… it… changed things?”

A few students snickered, and Mr. Callahan sighed, clearly unimpressed. “I’d appreciate it if you paid attention, Lyra. Daydreaming won’t help you pass your exams.”

Lyra nodded quickly, her embarrassment tinged with a nagging irritation. She could feel Elaine’s gaze on her from across the room, a knowing smile playing on her friend’s lips. Elaine leaned over as the teacher resumed his lecture, whispering, “You’ve got to shake this off, Lyra. You’re acting like he’s real.”

Lyra forced a laugh, trying to brush off her discomfort, but the words stung. Was she really letting herself get carried away over a dream?

The rest of the school day passed in a haze. Lyra found herself zoning out repeatedly, her mind slipping back to her dreams, to the cold voice that called out to her, and the forest’s shadows that seemed to deepen whenever she thought of them. At one point, she had nearly forgotten where she was, only to be startled back by the sound of the lunch bell echoing through the hallway.

As she headed to the cafeteria with Elaine, the whispers of students talking and laughing around her seemed distant, almost like a faded memory. Elaine was chattering about something—the weekend, maybe—but Lyra couldn’t focus on the words, her thoughts a tangled mess of questions she couldn’t answer. She picked at her lunch absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused.

“You’re not even listening, are you?” Elaine’s voice broke through her fog, and Lyra looked up to see her friend watching her with a slight frown. “I know you, Lyra. You’re making this whole thing into something way bigger than it is.”

“What if it’s not just a dream?” Lyra whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them.

Elaine sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Lyra, it’s just a dream. You’ve been reading those creepy legends again, right? Your brain is probably just mixing things up. You’ve always been good at scaring yourself—remember the haunted attic story you convinced yourself of last year?”

Lyra opened her mouth to protest, but Elaine’s gentle, teasing smile softened the sting of her words. She wanted to argue, to explain that this was different, that she felt something every time she closed her eyes, a dark presence pulling her toward it. But with everyone around them, the cafeteria filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, her fears suddenly felt small and irrational, like shadows under the harsh light of day.

“Maybe you’re right…” she muttered, her voice uncertain. “Maybe it’s just my imagination.”

By the time she got home that evening, Lyra felt drained, the weight of the day pressing on her. She sank onto her bed, staring at the ceiling as the memories of the forest and him floated back to her. She wanted to believe Elaine, to brush off the dreams as nothing more than her own mind playing tricks. But a part of her bristled at the thought, like an itch she couldn’t ignore.

Just then, her phone buzzed on her desk, and she saw a message from Elaine: You’re not letting those dreams get to you, are you?

She typed back, No, just thinking.

Elaine’s response came immediately, almost as if she had been waiting. Good! Don’t let that stuff mess with your head, Lyra. You know how you get sometimes.

Lyra stared at the screen, feeling a strange emptiness. How you get sometimes. The words echoed in her mind, like an accusation, as if her fears were nothing more than quirks of her personality. She tried to dismiss it, to let Elaine’s reassurance settle her nerves, but doubt weighed heavily on her.

She glanced at her desk, where the worn, battered book lay. She had intended to open it tonight, to go back to the page that had first mentioned the High Priest. But now, her hands felt heavy, and the familiar pull toward the book seemed weaker, fading in the face of Elaine’s laughter, her gentle mocking.

The shadows in her room grew deeper, and the familiar feeling of being watched returned, sharper and more insistent than before. But as she closed her eyes, she could hear Elaine’s words echoing in her mind, drowning out the voice that had once seemed so real.

Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe he was nothing more than a shadow, a whisper conjured by her own imagination.

But even as she tried to convince herself, Lyra couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness held secrets she was meant to uncover.