Chapter 1: The Mark That Shouldn’t Exist

The mark appeared the night the sky split open.

Virelle Noctra did not feel it at first. There was no burning, no pain, no dramatic shift in the air as the stories claimed. It began as nothing more than a faint shimmer beneath her skin, just above her collarbone, like light trying to break through something that refused to let it.

She only noticed it because the mirror flickered; her reflection lagged half a second behind her movement. Virelle stilled. That was wrong, the room was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears until you could hear your own pulse. She slowly lifted her hand and touched the glass.

Her reflection didn’t; her breath caught then, all at once, it moved—but not the same way she did. It tilted its head in a slow, deliberate motion, watching her. Virelle stepped back sharply, her heart slamming against her ribs. The mirror returned to normal instantly, her reflection snapping back into place as if nothing had happened.

But the mark was there now, clear and more visible. It curved along her skin like ink that had been poured rather than drawn, shifting faintly, as if it were breathing beneath the surface. Not a symbol she recognised. Not anything human.

“Okay…” she whispered, her voice unsteady despite her attempt to stay calm. “That’s… new.”

She had lived her whole life in quiet normalcy. No strange abilities, no supernatural encounters. No secrets hidden in her blood, at least none that anyone had told her about. So why did it feel like something had just… claimed her? A sudden crack split the air outside.

Virelle turned toward the window just as the sky fractured; it wasn't lightning, nor a storm, the sky itself—splitting open like glass. A deep crimson light bled through the tear, stretching across the horizon in jagged lines that pulsed like veins. The world seemed to hold its breath.

Then came the sound, a low, resonant hum that vibrated through the ground, through the walls, through her bones and her mark, it reacted. Pain exploded through her chest.

Virelle gasped, dropping to her knees as the symbol burned to life, its shifting lines locking into place for the first time. The glow wasn’t bright—it was deep, almost blackened silver—but it pulsed with something ancient. Something aware.

Something that knew her. “What is happening to me?” she choked, gripping at her shirt as the heat spread through her veins. The air behind her changed; she felt it before she heard it, a presence, something cold, and it was watching. 

Virelle forced herself to turn, and there, standing in the corner of her room where shadows should have been empty, was a girl. No, not a girl, something wearing the shape of one.

Her eyes were wrong, too dark, something endless like looking into a void that had no intention of letting you look away. “You finally woke it,” the figure said softly. Her voice did not echo; it sank.

“Who are you?” Virelle demanded, pushing herself upright despite the pain still threading through her body. The figure smiled, “Not who,” she said. “What?”

The mark flared again, and Virelle staggered, but this time she didn’t fall. Something inside her steadied, something… stronger. The figure’s gaze sharpened with interest “That’s new,” she murmured. Before Virelle could respond, the air split open again—but this time, it wasn’t the sky, it was her room.

A vertical tear of crimson light ripped through the space in front of her, humming with the same deep resonance she had felt moments before. Wind surged inward, pulling at her clothes, her hair, her very balance.

“No,” Virelle whispered, stepping back, the pull intensified, invisible and unstoppable.  “You were not supposed to be called yet,” the shadowed figure said, watching carefully now. Virelle’s heart raced. “Called where?” The figure met her gaze, and for the first time, there was something almost like concern in her expression.

“Blood Oath Academy", the force yanked. Virelle screamed as the world collapsed into red light and vanished.

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