Nyavari
As they arrived at Ariel's house, Allan slowed the car and parked in front of a modest, middle-class home. The house was warm and welcoming, with flower pots lining the porch and a small garden in the front yard.
Ariel glanced out the window, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. Yes, of course, she couldn't afford the school—Ravenswood Academy was a place for the elite, a realm where she often felt like an outsider. She was a scholarship student, while her younger brother, Xeveir, attended the school because their father had paid his fees long before he even reached middle school.
Curiosity piqued, Allan turned to her. "What about your dad? What does he do?"
Ariel hesitated, her expression faltering. "He's… late most of the time. My mom? We never really knew her. Just my sister, Missy, really."
Allan nodded, a look of understanding passing over his face. He opened his mouth to ask more, but he could see the pain in her eyes. Instead, he reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, drawing her gaze to his.
Their eyes locked—his golden gaze met her hazel eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. A current of connection passed between them, palpable and electric. Ariel felt the wound on her leg throb softly, almost as if it were alive. It began to glow faintly with a blue light.
Allan broke the gaze, looking down at the light shining from her leg. "What is that?" he asked, confusion knitting his brow.
Ariel's heart raced, realizing that Allan's presence had somehow awakened her wound. "It's… you caused it," she stammered, breathless as if she had just sprinted a 400-meter race.
He studied her, his own confusion evident, but he didn't press her further. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she said, trying to steady her breathing, to calm the chaos inside her.
Seeing her distress, Allan moved closer in the car, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Instantly, she felt a wave of calm wash over her, and the blue light from her wound began to fade, losing its glow as if it were soothed by his presence.
"By the way," Ariel said, breaking the moment, "what type of gala is it?"
Allan smiled, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "It's a fashion gala," he replied. "Expect lots of glitz, glamour, and the latest trends. A perfect chance to show off."
Ariel raised her eyebrows, both intrigued and a bit nervous. "Sounds… fancy."
"Trust me," he said softly. "You'll fit right in."
"See you tomorrow, then," he added, his voice warm. "I'll come get you myself for the gala. Get some rest, and please don't sleepwalk," he joked, the teasing smile lighting up his face.
Ariel smiled back, understanding the lightheartedness behind his words. "Okay," she replied, her heart fluttering. "A makeup artist will come by tomorrow to get you ready",he said, watching her as she opened the car door and stepped out.
Allan stayed in the car for a moment, his gaze following her as she walked to the door. Once she disappeared inside, he let out a quiet breath, a mixture of relief and curiosity swirling in his mind.
---
Once inside, Ariel was greeted by the cozy familiarity of her home. The living room was filled with the soft glow of table lamps, and she could hear the faint sound of the television from the kitchen, where Missy was likely preparing dinner.
"Hey, how was your night?" Missy called out, peeking her head around the corner. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked toward Ariel.
"Good! I went out with friends," Ariel replied, keeping her tone light.
"Just friends?" Missy raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile appearing on her face. "No secret crushes involved?"
Ariel shrugged, trying to hide her smile. "Just a group hangout. You know, the usual."
As Xeveir entered the room, his expression was one of mild interest, but he quickly shifted his focus to the television. "So, what's up? Are we having pizza or something tonight?"
"Not sure yet," Missy replied, giving him a playful glare. "Maybe if you help me with the dishes, we can order takeout."
"Ugh, fine." Xeveir grinned, dramatically rolling his eyes. "But only if it's pepperoni."
Ariel took a seat on the couch, the excitement from earlier still bubbling inside her. "So, I was thinking about the gala tomorrow. Everyone's talking about it."
Missy leaned against the armrest, intrigued. "Ooh, are you going?"
"Yeah, just to check it out," Ariel said casually, careful not to mention Allan's name. "It'll be fun to see everyone dressed up."
"Sounds fancy," Missy said, her tone turning slightly serious. "Just make sure you're careful around Eleanor. You know how she can be. I don't want you getting caught up in any drama."
Xeveir, who had been half-listening, perked up. "You know what? I'm actually glad Audrey doesn't care about those kinds of things. She's so focused on her music. I mean, the gala sounds cool and all, but I bet she'd rather be jamming out in the music room."
Ariel smiled, thinking about how Xeveir had developed a quiet admiration for Audrey. "Yeah, she's not really into the whole fashion scene, is she?"
"Nope," Xeveir replied, leaning back with a satisfied expression. "She's too busy for all that. Plus, it's nice knowing she's not into the drama."
Missy chuckled. "Just make sure you keep your distance if you run into Eleanor at the gala. You don't want to get sucked into any high school gossip."
"Trust me, I won't," Ariel said, chuckling lightly. "I'll just enjoy the evening and keep it low-key."
---
That night, Ariel slept soundly—her mind was unusually calm. There were no dreams, no haunting visions, just the echo of Allan's golden eyes burned into her memory. His gaze lingered in her thoughts like a soft whisper, and for the first time in a long while, she felt comfort instead of confusion.
Meanwhile, across town in a luxurious penthouse suite, Eleanor was anything but calm.
Clothes were scattered everywhere—designer dresses from Paris, rows of glittering heels, and accessories that sparkled under the chandelier light. Her friends, Daisy and Selen, lounged on the plush velvet sofa as Eleanor twirled in front of the mirror in yet another breathtaking gown.
"This one?" she asked, spinning slightly to admire the open back. "Or the red one with the crystal bodice?"
Daisy narrowed her eyes. "The red one is fire, but the green makes you look like royalty. Honestly, either would make people stare."
Eleanor scoffed lightly. "They already stare."
A maid stepped in quietly with a silver tray. Eleanor turned, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Where's my sister?"
The maid bowed slightly. "She's resting, Miss."
"Of course she is," Eleanor muttered under her breath, her mood slightly deflated before she snapped her attention back to the mirror.
As she touched up her lip gloss, Selen perked up with her phone in hand, scrolling through school gossip blogs. "Did you guys hear what happened today at school?"
Eleanor raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. "What now?"
Selen's voice dropped slightly with drama. "Ariel stormed into the seniors' class looking for Allan. Apparently, he told her they had a date and she didn't even say no. Then they left school. Together."
Daisy's eyes widened. "Wait—Allan Wallace took her out? Like, in front of everyone?"
"That's what everyone's talking about," Selen confirmed. "She's literally trending on our school's group page."
Eleanor paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked at herself again in the mirror—this time with sharper scrutiny. A tight, bitter twist settled in her chest.
"Oh, really?" she said with a slow smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Well… let them talk."
She turned to her friends, her energy shifting, more determined than ever. "Let's try on the diamond cuff. If I'm going to walk into that gala, I need to remind everyone exactly who I am.
---
Inside the dimly lit study of the Allan estate, firelight danced across the old stone walls, casting shadows on the tall bookshelves filled with relics, ancient scrolls, and forbidden texts. Charles Wallace sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the man standing before him—Barrow, Allan's loyal yet secretive butler.
"Report," Charles said coldly, his voice sharp as a blade.
Barrow gave a respectful bow before speaking. "He went missing the other day… briefly. Said he was in the woods."
"The woods?" Charles raised a brow. "He doesn't just go into the woods. You know what I've told you—observe him. Report everything."
"I have, sir," Barrow replied calmly. "And that's where it gets strange. He wasn't alone. He saved a girl."
Charles leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "A girl?"
Barrow nodded. "Yes. But not just any girl. She's… different. When I looked into her, something didn't sit right. Her energy is—rare."
"What makes you say that?" Charles asked slowly.
Barrow took a breath, lowering his voice. "The way Allan spoke about her… the wound she carries… and the light it emitted when they touched. It wasn't normal. She resembles something I've only read about in your late wife's grimoires. A forgotten bloodline. One that was said to be extinguished centuries ago."
Charles narrowed his eyes. "Be specific."
"She may be… a Nyavari."
The room fell silent. Even the fire seemed to quiet its crackle.
"Impossible," Charles muttered. "The Nyavari were wiped out. Every last one."
"Or so we believed," Barrow said. "But if she is one, sir… she's a seer. And if she awakens, the power she holds could be catastrophic… or salvation."
Charles stood slowly, walking to the window, his hands behind his back. "Keep watching them, Barrow. If she truly is Nyavari… then this changes everything."
Barrow gave a slight bow. "Yes, my lord."
---