The library of Lorthraine’s Academy sprawled like a maze, its towering shelves casting long shadows beneath the vaulted ceiling. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, illuminated by slivers of late afternoon light.

  To Ellie, it had always been a refuge—a place where the outside world’s clamor softened into the gentle rustle of parchment and the murmur of hidden knowledge. But today, even the silence pressed against her, heavy and expectant.

  She hunched over a desk piled high with records and ancient tomes, scanning each yellowed page for any mention of Eloise’s past. Across from her, Elladora sifted through a scroll with her usual precision, her expression impassive, as if the hours spent in search hadn’t touched her at all.

  Ellie envied her for that. For how Elladora could be both unyielding and untouched by frustration.

  Ellie pushed a stack of brittle documents away with a sigh, her voice low and edged with exhaustion. “Nothing. It’s as if she just... appeared out of thin air.”

  Elladora’s only reply was a quiet hum, her eyes never leaving the scroll. “And yet, here she is, performing miracles like she’s been plucked straight from a myth.”

  Ellie glanced up sharply, catching a trace of something beneath Elladora’s cool tone—curiosity, or perhaps doubt. She opened her mouth to press further, but the heavy wooden doors of the library creaked open, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

  A figure slipped through the shadows beyond, her footsteps echoing off the marble floor. “Ah, there you are—buried beneath a mountain of dead trees, as always.”

  Ellie’s heart gave a small, unexpected leap. Seren, the Academy’s investigator, stepped into the light, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. It had been too long since she’d seen Seren. Seren’s work often took her beyond the Academy’s reach, into the wilder places where whispers of darker magic brewed.

  “Seren,” Ellie called softly, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips despite the tension knotting her chest. She rose from her seat, feeling a measure of relief at the sight of her friend’s familiar face. “You’re back, finally. I wasn’t sure when we’d see you again.”

  Seren’s lips curved in a faint smile, but there was a hardness in her eyes that Ellie hadn’t seen before. “Ellie. Elladora,” she greeted, nodding to each in turn. She moved closer to their table, her presence quiet but commanding, like the stillness before a storm. “I’ve heard some things. Enough to know that your little research project hasn’t turned up much more than mine.”

  Elladora’s gaze snapped up, sharp as a drawn blade. “And what, exactly, did you find?” Her voice had a dangerous edge to it, a warning that Seren either didn’t hear or chose to ignore.

  Seren settled into a nearby chair, folding her hands over the worn wood of the table. “I just came from Velsorin. There were rumors about a healer—someone performing miracles, much like Eloise. But Velsorin isn’t like Lorthraine. They didn’t call her a saint there. They called her a witch.”

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  Ellie felt a chill seep through her bones. “A witch?” she repeated, barely above a whisper. “But why would they—”

  “They’re afraid,” Seren cut in, her tone blunt. “She healed the sick, just like she’s doing here. But they saw it as unnatural—against the will of the gods, they said. The way they saw it, power like that doesn’t come without strings attached. They tried to burn her, Ellie. Tried to burn her alive.”

  Elladora’s mouth twisted into something that might have been a smile, but her eyes remained ice-cold. “And yet, here, they sing her praises. Convenient, isn’t it? A miracle-worker, just when the kingdom needed one.”

  Ellie’s stomach twisted at the thought, her mind conjuring the image of Eloise—calm, serene, her hands glowing with that unearthly light. The very idea of her, bound and burning, was impossible to reconcile with the gentle woman who had captivated all of Lorthraine.

  “But the people adore her here,” she protested, the words coming out too fast. “They call her a saintess.”

  “Adoration and fear.” Seren leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the vaulted ceiling as if contemplating a distant point. “Two sides of the same coin. In Velsorin, they were afraid because they couldn’t understand her power. Here, they’ve dressed it up in gold and called it divine. But the power itself... it’s the same. The only thing that’s changed is the story they’re telling themselves.”

  Elladora’s eyes glinted in the dim light. “And stories can be very persuasive, can’t they? Especially when people are desperate to believe them.” She leaned forward, her voice lowering to a whisper that seemed to curl around them like smoke. “Power like hers—it doesn’t come free, Seren. There’s always a price. People just like to look the other way.”

  Seren’s expression softened, but only a little. “Maybe. But in Velsorin, they were convinced they saw that price. They said her miracles came with a shadow, that those she touched weren’t quite the same afterward.”

  Ellie’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean, not the same?” she pressed, her mind racing ahead to the countless faces Eloise had healed, each one glowing with gratitude.

  “Little things at first,” Seren replied, her voice a thread of quiet unease. “A knight she healed found his strength slipping in battle, though he bore no scars. A mage’s spells became sluggish, like his own magic was leaking out of him. They started calling it a curse, though no one had proof.”

  Elladora’s gaze sharpened, her lips curling with a dark satisfaction. “And now, you think she’s doing it again, here?”

  “I think we need to find out.” Seren’s eyes met Elladora’s without flinching. “The people in Velsorin thought they saw the truth of her power. Here, we might just be seeing the mask.”

  Ellie swallowed hard, the weight of Seren’s words settling in her chest like a stone. She glanced at the scattered documents before them, feeling suddenly small beneath the towering shelves and their silent witness. “But we have nothing to go on,” she murmured, her voice rough with uncertainty. “No evidence that she’s anything other than what she says she is.”

  “Not yet.” Seren’s expression hardened. “But if there’s something darker behind those miracles, we need to know. Before it’s too late.”

  Elladora’s smile turned sharp, almost predatory. “Then we dig deeper. If there’s a secret buried beneath all that light she’s casting, we’ll drag it into the open.” She picked up a fresh scroll, her movements as precise as ever, but there was a new intensity in her eyes. “Power like hers doesn’t stay hidden forever.”

  Ellie hesitated, taking in the two women before her—Seren’s steady resolve, Elladora’s cold determination—and tried to steady her own racing heart. If Eloise was hiding something, they were the ones who would have to uncover it, no matter what they might find.

  Somehow, that thought made the shadows of the library seem darker, deeper, as if the secrets they sought had always been lurking just beyond the reach of their lamplight.