VENEFICA

[10] Fragmented Answers

Everyone knew the stories of nightmares—the creatures that haunted people into an endless sleep. No one knew the truth. Each history book, grimoire, and bestiary gave conflicting accounts. Some claimed nightmares were nothing more than a magical sickness, triggered by emotional distress. Others described them as ghostly stallions, galloping through a victim's subconscious until their mind shattered. But one thing was always the same. Nightmares were powerful magic. A force so rare, so insidious, that only the most skilled magicians could summon them... or destroy them. Even elves, with their unique ability to enter dreams, could only exorcise a nightmare. To truly kill it, the magician who called it forth had to finish the job.
"The hours stretched long in the dim glow of the library. Abelle and Claire sat hunched over a mountain of books, pages worn from frantic skimming. Dust filled the air each time they flipped a page, their ink-stained hands flying across notebooks.

Abelle underlined a passage and passed the book to Claire. 'Another mention of nightmares.'
Claire took it without looking up. 'It has to be. The elves called it that. And Volk's secrecy? That confirms it.' She let out a tired breath, rubbing her temple. 'It's been over an hour. Where's everyone else?'

Abelle twirled her lavender pen between her fingers. 'Mystic and Elora are... doing their own research.'"

Claire paused. The weight in Abelle's voice wasn't lost on her. "She hates me, doesn't she?"

Abelle hesitated, eyes flicking to her notebook. "She... just doesn't know you."

Claire let out a humorless laugh. "She absolutely hates me." She flipped a page, barely reading. "I don't get it. What did I do that was so wrong? I just wanted to help. And now... I feel like this is my fault."

The air went still. A paleness flushed over her face. "Or it's just some random unfortunate coincidence," Abelle suggested. She grabbed another book off the top of the "too read" pile. It was bound in dark blue leather with deckled edges. It released a cloud of brown dust and dirt into the air as Abelle opened to the appendix. "We've been doing this for a while" she coughed. "Want to grab something to eat?"

Claire nodded. It was nice being genuinely invited to partake in something as simple as eating together. The chair skidded across the floor as she pushed it in place. She picked up some of the more immediate books and started to walk them back to the metal reshelving cart by the front desk. 

"Apage!" Abelle whispered into her ring. With a flick of the wrist, every book the girls took out began flying around the room, back to their original shelf. The heavier ones flew a bit closer to the ground, but nevertheless still managed to return to their rightful place in the library. The weight of the encyclopedia in Claire's arms disappeared as each volume lifted into the air. Abelle smiled. The magic was just a way to cheekily show off her talents. Normally she would never do a spell that included so much visual showmanship around the others, but for some odd reason, she felt safe to do it around Claire. She pushed in her chair and waited for Claire to join her by the exit. 

By now, the dining hall was mostly empty, save for a few students picking at the last scraps of dinner. The buffet was nearly cleared out—burnt broccoli bits smothered in cold grease and a lone, overcooked chicken leg sat under the dim heat lamps. Abelle filled two glasses from the last clean water pitcher and set them down on the table.

The smell of freshly roasted chicken filled the air as Thomas Reed walked past, a blood bag in one hand and a steaming plate of food in the other.

Abelle waved him down. "How is she?"

Thomas rolled his eyes and shook his head. A frown stained onto his face. "Volk instructed me not to talk about it."

Abelle scoffed. "Come on, Thomas, we're not even allowed to message her, let alone go into her room." Her gaze flicked down to the blood bag. "Obviously, you can. So is she okay?"