Chapter 19
On the other side of the academy, in an office that held its silence differently from the rest of the building, Leith stood across a desk from the principal.
"So you've begun looking into it," the principal said. His voice was measured, but there was tension under it — the kind that had been there a long time and had learned to sit quietly.
Leith stood with his hands in his pockets.
"Yes."
"And?"
"Nothing conclusive. Not yet."
The principal studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether that answer satisfied him. It didn't, entirely. But he let it pass.
He opened a slim folder on the desk.
"The Book of Darkness."
He paused.
"And Dark Veyra."
Leith kept his expression still, but the two names together rearranged something in his thinking. He'd assumed this meeting was about the incident at the dorms. It wasn't. It was bigger than that, and the principal had been sitting on it long enough to learn how to say it calmly.
"That organization has been gone since the Second Syntara War," the principal continued. "But the rumors surrounding them never fully died."
"I know the history," Leith said. "I was there for the end of it."
Something flickered across the principal's face — not quite an apology, but an acknowledgment that he'd spoken carelessly to a man who'd survived the very war he was now treating as a closed chapter. "Yes. Of course." A pause. "What I don't know is why it's relevant again, barely a year after we thought it was finished."
"Patience."
The principal closed the folder.
"Dark Veyra was the group we opposed alongside the Syntara forces of that era. Their objective was straightforward — seize control of dark Veyra energy and force human evolution through prohibited experimentation. The Book of Darkness was the source. The foundational text behind their techniques."
"Scattered when the war ended," Leith said. "According to what's documented."
"Yes. Never confirmed, but several copies went unaccounted for in the chaos of the surrender."
The principal leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under the shift of weight.
"We assumed a single year wasn't long enough for anyone to recover from that defeat, let alone reorganize. It was easier to believe that."
"And now you don't."
"Now there are signals we can't explain any other way."
"Such as?"
The principal didn't answer that directly. He tapped one finger on the desk, slowly, the way a man does when he's deciding how much to say out loud.
"Our concern is a specific one. The noble clans."
Leith's attention sharpened by a degree.
"Several major clans are suspected of holding fragments — partial copies, sections, pieces of the text. If that's accurate, they have access to prohibited techniques." He paused. "Including the ritual for summoning darkness-class creatures."
"That ritual requires bloodline-specific components. It's not something any clan could attempt."
"Which narrows the list considerably. That's the problem."
"These aren't ordinary monsters," the principal said. "They exist at level one hundred. What's classified as Lord Level."
"Lord Level," Leith repeated.
"If even one were to appear within the academy's borders — students would have no chance. Even high-level Syntara practitioners would struggle to contain the situation."
Leith turned that over for a moment. A single Lord Level entity, inside a school built to train children who hadn't yet learned to control their own Veyra. He didn't need it spelled out further to understand the shape of it.
"Is this why I was brought here?"
The principal met his eyes directly.
"Yes. We need you watching for unusual activity within the academy. Particularly from students with noble clan backgrounds."
"You think it's a student."
"I think if someone wanted access to this academy's resources — its records, its bloodline registries, its proximity to certain students — enrolling would be the simplest way to get it. I'm not accusing anyone yet. I'm asking you to watch."
"Watch for what, specifically? A clan name isn't a behavior."
"Anything that doesn't sit right. Trust your instincts on this one, Leith. You've always been better at noticing what doesn't fit than the rest of my staff combined."
Leith's eyes moved slightly downward. His thoughts, without being directed to, made a quiet connection — noble clans, concealed Veyra levels, a girl who consistently didn't fit the patterns around her.
He didn't say any of that aloud.
"Understood."
The principal exhaled, long and controlled.
"This can't reach the surface. If the Book of Darkness is genuinely circulating again, we may be approaching something considerably larger than the last war."
"You said that like you already believe it."
"I do."
He didn't elaborate, and Leith didn't press.
Leith turned toward the door.
"Then I'll find out what I can."
He had nearly reached it when the principal spoke again. Lower this time.
"There's one more thing. Watch Yurelin Yurei."
Leith stopped.
"Why her, specifically?"
"Because she is a descendant of Clan Seirei."
Leith stood still.
"Seirei," he repeated, quiet, almost to himself. He hadn't expected to hear that name spoken in this room, attached to a girl he already knew by a different set of details entirely.
"A bloodline most of the academy believes went extinct three generations ago," the principal said. "If she's confirmed, she isn't just unusual. She's a target — to anyone who understands what that lineage is worth."
"Does she know?"
"That's part of what I need you to find out."
I need to protect her.
The thought arrived without consultation. Complete, certain, immediate.
He didn't examine it. He filed it and walked out.
The corridor outside was ordinary and calm.
Inside him, something had shifted into a different configuration — quietly, without announcement, the way important things often did.
...
Hey everyone — quick heads up before this chapter.
Thank you for sticking with Liyn and Leith through the school days and slow-burn moments so far.
From here, the story turns darker. Liyn's wounds run deeper than we've shown, and the arc ahead deals with grief, trauma, and some intense horror elements down the line.
Not a spoiler, just a heads up so you're not blindsided. If heavier themes aren't your thing right now, no judgment at all.
If you're ready, I hope you'll stay — this is where the story I set out to tell really begins.
— The Author