The field was wide and surrounded by a ring of trees, open sky above. You could feel the magic in the air out here—like the wind itself was watching, listening, waiting to be called. Mist curled along the grass, but it didn’t feel cold. Just... alive.

  Norian stood in the center of the clearing, arms crossed, hair tied back, a satchel at his feet. He looked like he’d been there a while.

  “Took you long enough,” he said as Nyx approached with Ruby and Joren trailing silently behind.

  “You said after breakfast, not during digestion.” Nyx shot back, brushing her hair behind her ears.

  He smirked just a little, then turned and reached into the satchel. “Before we start, some things.”

  He handed her a leather-bound book first—old, cracked along the spine, but humming softly in her hands.

  “Veil Theory and Spirit Practices,” he explained. “Read a page a day. It’ll make you less likely to get your ass possessed.”

  “Reassuring,” she muttered, thumbing it open briefly before he handed her a sword—lightweight, short, perfectly balanced.

  It was etched with runes she didn’t recognize.

  “Steel and silver,” Norian said. “You probably won’t need it. But when you do, you really will.”

  Last, a wand. Slim, black, veined with some silver inlay. “Elm wood. Flexible. It’ll work with your Veil magic, but also anything else you pick up.”

  She held it, feeling a little overwhelmed. “So like… I'm a walking fantasy starter pack now?”

  Norian didn’t laugh. Just gave her a look. “Don’t lose your them. But note. those are only for practice. Not everyone needs a wand, most people use staffs. Or have customized objects to help with their magic."

  Then she glanced over at the spirits. Ruby lingered a bit behind Joren, her light soft, calm. But Joren stood straight, almost like a soldier waiting for orders.

  That’s when the question hit her.

  “Hey,” Nyx asked, frowning as she looked between them. “Why didn’t I bond with Joren when I said his name? I did with Ruby.”

  Norian turned, pausing.

  “Ah,” he said, like it was something he’d expected. “You don’t bond with spirits just by saying their name. That can create a connection, yes—but it’s not always immediate. Or even guaranteed.”

  Nyx raised a brow. “But it happened with Ruby.”

  “That’s because Ruby wanted it,” Norian said, matter-of-fact. “She chose to. She was ready to form that connection. Joren didn’t. He’s here to help, but he doesn’t belong to you. Spirits aren’t pets or tools, Nyxsandra. They’re people. Dead, sure—but still people. Some want to bond. Others don’t. And some need more time.”

  Ruby’s glow shimmered slightly at that, her aura brightening like a warm flicker of candlelight.

  Nyx looked at Joren, who gave her the slightest tilt of his head, but nothing more.

  “…So basically it’s a spiritual ‘only if I vibe with you’ deal?” she asked.

  “Exactly,” Norian said, turning and gesturing for her to follow him to the center of the field. “Now. Less questions. More doing.”

  ° ° °

  Norian led her through the basics first—channeling energy through her wand, trying to cast without pushing herself too hard. She lit the air around her fingers, summoned a gust of wind, even pulled a flicker of blue flame from the wand’s tip. Milo perched nearby, observing like a tiny, glowy manager.

  When it came time for physical training, Norian had her wield the sword—not for combat yet, but for control. Balance. Form.

  Joren stepped in then, showing her silently how to stand, how to swing with intention, not just desperation. He never spoke, but he corrected her form with a light touch or a pointed gesture. His movements were fluid, like muscle memory from a past life that never really faded.

  Ruby, meanwhile, had floated off to a nearby tree. She settled in the air, shimmering softly, watching with quiet interest. She was free to do whatever she wanted—but she chose to stay. There was something in the way she watched Nyx… pride, maybe. Hope.

  Or maybe just curiosity.

  As the sun began to rise higher, Nyx wiped sweat from her brow, panting, but feeling more alive than she had in weeks.

  “Is it always gonna feel like this?” she asked, dropping to the grass. “Like I’m trying to learn ten things while also not dying?”

  Norian smirked, crouching beside her. “Pretty much.”

  “Great.”

  ? ? ?

  The air still shimmered with faint magic, and the clearing now bore scorch marks, ruffled grass, and a few ghostly remnants of spells fading into mist. Nyxsandra stood, wand in hand, catching her breath.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “That was… better,” Norian said, watching her closely.

  Nyx smiled, sweat glistening on her brow. “Thanks. I’m starting to feel it. Like the magic's not just in me, but listening.”

  “Good,” he said simply, before tossing her a canteen of water. “Because the more you understand that connection, the more control you’ll have when it matters.”

  She took a sip, then sat down in the grass beside him. “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be, you know.”

  His brow arched slightly, amused. “Says the girl who tried to fight a shadow spirit with a tree branch.”

  Nyx laughed. “Okay, that’s fair.”

  They sat in silence a moment, Milo curling at her feet like a lazy ball of floating light, humming softly. Joren, ever the quiet sentinel, stood off to the side, sword across his back. Ruby floated higher up in a tree, basking in a patch of sunlight, clearly enjoying her little break.

  Nyx looked over at Norian again. “Thank you… for all of this. For taking me in. Teaching me. You didn’t have to.”

  “I did,” he said, almost too quickly. Then softer, “You don’t know it yet, but… you’re important. To more than just yourself. And if I can help you survive what's coming… then yeah, I had to.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, expression serious. “I don’t want to just survive. I want to fight back. I want to matter.”

  “You already do.”

  ° ° °

  As the training session wound down, Norian handed her a cloth to wipe her face. “Go wash up. Rest. You’ve earned it.”

  Nyx gave him a small tired grin. “You’re not so bad when you’re not barking orders.”

  He snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”

  She headed inside, Joren nodding once before disappearing, and Ruby floating behind her lazily. The castle was cool and quiet, the sunlight pouring in through high windows.

  ° ° °

  Steam filled the old marble-tiled bathroom as Nyx stepped into the shower, letting the hot water ease the sore muscles in her back and arms. It felt like the first real moment of peace since all this had started. She let herself enjoy it—if only for a little while.

  Clean, in fresh clothes, and with Milo perched comfortably on her shoulder again, Nyx stepped out into the hall feeling lighter.

  “I’m gonna explore a little,” she whispered to Ruby, who shimmered behind her in understanding.

  ° ° °

  She wandered for a while, her footsteps soft on ancient stone floors. And then she saw it—again.

  The library door.

  Same place. Same sign. But this time, when she reached out to touch the handle, the door didn’t vanish. It stayed.

  Nyx blinked, then gently opened it.

  Inside was a dream of books. Endless rows of ancient shelves stretched into the shadows above, ladders leaned against cases, glowing orbs floated overhead like watchful fireflies. The scent of parchment and magic filled the air.

  “Woah…” she breathed, stepping in.

  For the next hour, she lost herself in books—pulling out dusty tomes, flipping through handwritten notes on spectral bonds, Veil passages, and the history of magical bloodlines. Milo poked curiously at a particularly fat volume with gilded pages.

  Then, deeper in the library, she noticed it.

  A locked iron gate stood at the far end of the room, black and ornate, like something meant to protect or imprison. Beyond it, a dark corridor stretched into shadows, colder and heavier than the rest of the library.

  She tested the gate, but it wouldn’t budge. “Figures,” she muttered.

  Looking around for a key yielded nothing—no hidden levers, no traps, no enchanted riddles (not this time). Just silence.

  Until another ghost appeared.

  This one looked different—tall and shrouded in a silvery glow that pulsed gently like a heartbeat. It didn’t speak, but turned to Ruby and simply… looked.

  Ruby looked back.

  No words passed between them, but something did. The air shifted, something passed between them in that strange, silent language of the dead. Ruby floated to Nyx and gently tugged at her sleeve.

  Milo flickered curiously.

  “You want us to leave?” Nyx asked gently.

  Ruby shimmered in confirmation, then pointed toward the door.

  “Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

  ? ? ?

  Ruby led her back through the halls, and soon they arrived at the sunlit dining room where a warm lunch had already been laid out on a long table—bread, fruit, roasted vegetables, and a pot of something that smelled heavenly.

  Norian was already there, leaning over a book while picking at a plate.

  He looked up as Nyx walked in.

  “Find anything interesting on your little adventure?” he asked.

  She smiled, taking a seat. “More than you want me to know, probably.”

  He snorted. “You’d be surprised what I want you to know. The problem is what you’re ready to hear.”

  Nyx leaned forward slightly, curious, eyes gleaming. “Try me.”

  He just raised an eyebrow, like that conversation wasn’t gonna happen over soup.

  After training, Nyxsandra could barely keep her eyes open. Her muscles ached, her magic felt tapped out, and even Milo seemed unusually quiet, curled up at the foot of her bed like a tiny glowing loaf.

  She showered quickly, let the hot water ease the tension from her body, then scarfed down a simple dinner Ruby brought up—a bowl of something warm and vaguely herby. Probably ghost soup. She was too tired to care.

  “Tomorrow,” she mumbled as she dropped into bed, “I’ll explore more... promise…”

  Darkness took her before the words fully left her lips.

  ° ° °

  At first, it felt like nothing. Just stillness. Floating.

  Then... a voice.

  Not loud. Not sharp. But it cut through her like a knife made of mist and memory.

  "Find me..."

  Her eyes snapped open—only they hadn’t really been closed.

  She stood in a place that wasn’t a place. Fog curled around her ankles like hungry fingers. The ground was black glass, reflecting nothing. Stars hung in the sky like holes poked through reality.

  Something moved in the distance—tall, robed, cloaked in light and shadow. Its face was a blur, like someone had smeared reality over it.

  "We need to speak. You must find me before they do."

  “Who are you?” she asked, stepping forward. Her voice echoed in too many directions at once.

  "You’ve seen the signs. The door. The voices. The Veil calls to you."

  “Where are you?”

  "Closer than you think."

  Suddenly—CRACK.

  The dream shifted, snapped sideways like a glitching video. The sky above her burned black, and from it rained figures in cloaks. The Eclipse Cult..

  Hundreds of them. Eyes glowing like dying stars. Chanting with no sound.

  They moved toward her in silence. And everything—everything—started to decay. The sky peeled back. The stars fell like ash. The ground beneath her shattered like glass underfoot.

  Milo was gone. Ruby was gone.

  She tried to run. Her feet stuck in shadow. Screaming in her throat—but no air, no breath.

  The cultists reached her.

  And they didn’t grab her.

  They consumed her.

  Her body, her soul, her thoughts—torn apart, drawn into them like threads being pulled from cloth. She screamed without sound, feeling her very being unravel as black fire crawled across her limbs.

  Nyxsandra snapped awake, gasping.

  Drenched in sweat, heart slamming against her ribs like it was trying to escape. Milo hovered above her, shifting colors frantically—blue, purple, red.

  Ruby was already at the door, her glow dim but pulsing. Something in the air had changed.

  Nyx sat up, hands trembling.

  “...I think someone just warned me,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “But I think something else… found me too.”

  Milo pressed his face into her chest, purring low like a worried cat.

  Nyx stared out the window, watching the trees sway in a wind that didn’t touch the castle.

  Tomorrow... something was coming.

  And she needed answers—fast.