Page 81 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

I exhale slowly, steadying myself as the darkness within my mind expands.

It envelops everything, a void so absolute it’s almost comforting. Within the blackness, I focus on the spark of life—not the tangible world around me, but the invisible energy that binds everything together. One by one, lights begin to flicker into being, like stars piercing an endless night.

The first aura I see is my own. Its glow is unmistakable, a vibrant blend of silver and gold. It burns fiercely, brighter than I expected, and for a moment, I almost don’t recognize it.

My breath catches as the form solidifies.

It’s not Gabriel I see reflected in the light — it’s the true me, Gwenivere. My hair floats weightlessly around me, a cascade of shimmering strands that defy gravity. The energy pouring from me is endless, and infinite in a way that fills me with both awe and dread.

A fragment of my reality.

This is who I truly am, beneath the facade, and for a fleeting second, I wonder if the others could see me like this… would they understand?

The thought vanishes as quickly as it comes, replaced by the next flicker of light.

Cassius.

His aura is darker, shadowy tendrils coiling and writhing like living things. Yet those shadows are held together by thin strands of white and purple energy, a tenuous balance that seems almost fragile but is deceptively strong. His power feels like the stillness before a storm, a quiet yet overwhelming force.

Then there’s Nikolai.

I swallow hard as his aura bursts into existence, an endless expanse of gold that nearly blinds me. His energy flows like an unbroken river, vast and eternal. It’s mesmerizing, terrifying even, in its immensity.

There is no bottom to it, no end to its reach.

A constant cycle of power.

It’s no wonder he walks with such confidence—to wield energy like that is to command the world itself.

And then my gaze shifts to Damien.

His aura flares to life, a deep red with jagged streaks of black and white threading through it. The sight makes me pause, my stomach twisting.

That combination…it’s not normal for a vampire. The black suggests his vampiric nature, but the white?

A marker of purity, of lineage.

It’s rare —incredibly rare— and it only appears in those who might be purebloods. But Damien has never mentioned anything like that, and I can’t dwell on it now.

Still, the sight of it leaves me unsettled.

Finally, Grim. His aura doesn’t glow the way the others do for obvious reasons.

Instead, it’s a barrier of sorts, a swirling shield of shadows that encase his form. The shadows ripple and shift, giving off the occasional puff of smoke. The scent is oddly comforting, likethe faint trace of cedar mixed with something sharper. It’s odd for him to have a scent, but I guess in our current circumstances he’s protruding an aroma to help identify his presence through the madness unfolding before our eyes.

His barrier is strong, and impenetrable.

Even the faintest suggestion of tainted energy recoils when it nears him.

As I take in the auras of my companions, the rest of the environment begins to come into focus. Beyond the barrier formed by Grim’s power, the world is alive with tainted energy.

It’s a sickly, pulsating force, thick and suffocating. The sheer volume of it is overwhelming, and for the first time, I truly understand what we’re up against.

The tainted energy flows in waves, converging on the slate. It’s massive, far larger than it seemed from the outside.

Tendrils of darkness snake out from its surface, latching onto the souls trapped within it. Each soul is a faint, flickering light, struggling against the pull of the slate’s power. The sight makes my stomach turn. There are so many… hundreds, maybe thousands.

Each one represents a life lost, a student who came to this academy full of hope and potential, only to be consumed by this monstrous creation.

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