—Narrated by Eli Whitmore.
---
The rain fell softly against the enchanted windows of Ravenwing Hall, droplets glowing faintly with magic as they slid down the glass. It was one of those quiet evenings, the kind where the air feels like it's holding its breath—where something hidden is waiting to be seen.
I couldn't sleep.
My bed was warm, the sheets smelled of lavender and parchment—probably Felix's influence—but my mind kept drifting back to the orientation, to the weight in Thorne's eyes… and to what he said.
> "If we stay close… we'll survive anything."
My fingers curled around the charm necklace I wore. It used to belong to my mother—a simple silver key, small and delicate. She said it would one day unlock something important.
I didn't know what yet.
A sudden chill passed through the room.
The candle near my bed flickered. Then it went out.
I sat up slowly.
That's when I heard it.
Whispers.
Soft. Faint. Like someone trying to speak through water.
> "Eli…"
I turned toward the door. The hallway outside my dorm room was completely dark. The glowcrystals lining the walls had all dimmed.
Something wasn't right.
I stood, pulled on my cloak, and stepped out, the wooden floor cold beneath my feet. The whispers grew louder, guiding me like invisible threads pulling at my chest.
> "Come find me…"
---
The Academy's East Wing was rarely used. Old portraits lined the halls, their painted eyes following every step I took. Each frame whispered spells of protection—or so I thought. But tonight, their gazes felt… different.
I stopped in front of a portrait near the end of the hall.
It was an oil painting of a young girl in a crimson dress. Her eyes, pale and glassy, stared out at nothing.
But her lips… were moving.
> "Please…"
I stepped closer. My breath caught.
She blinked.
Paintings didn't blink.
> "Please help me… he's coming…"
Suddenly, her eyes rolled back. Black paint oozed from the corners of her mouth, and the frame began to rattle.
I stumbled back, nearly tripping.
"Eli."
Thorne's voice snapped me out of the trance.
He was standing a few feet behind me, already halfway down the corridor. His hair was messy, as if he had rushed here. His jacket was undone, revealing a rune-etched shirt that glowed faintly in the dark.
"You heard it too," he said softly, stepping beside me.
I nodded, voice shaky. "The portrait… it whispered my name. I—I think there's a spirit trapped inside it."
He reached out, placed a gloved hand on the wooden frame. His fingers twitched as if feeling something beneath the surface.
"Residual pain. Someone died here. Violently."
"Can we help her?" I asked.
Thorne looked at me for a long moment. "If you're ready."
"I don't think I'll ever be ready," I whispered, "but I'll try."
He gave the smallest nod. "Then stay close."
---
We moved to the archive chamber below the East Wing, dust swirling in the air as Thorne flipped through ancient records by candlelight. I watched his hands move with practiced precision—strong, steady, graceful. I could feel my heart beating faster, but I tried to focus.
"The girl in the portrait…" I began.
"Her name was Annabelle Graymoor," he said without looking up. "She died a hundred years ago. Disappeared during her first year at the Academy. They say her soul never passed on."
"So someone bound her spirit to that painting?"
Thorne's jaw tightened. "More likely… something kept her here."
I swallowed. "Like a curse?"
"Or worse."
---
Back in the East Wing, Felix and Luna arrived, breathless from running.
"You could've told me we were ghost-hunting," Luna said, adjusting her moonstone earrings. "I would've brought better shoes."
Felix stared at the portrait. "That's Annabelle? But… she looks terrified."
"She's trapped," I explained. "Something is holding her soul captive."
Luna's tone turned serious. "Then let's get her out."
Thorne glanced at me. "You're the Gate Way Keeper, Eli. You have to open the way."
My hands shook. "I've never done this before."
Thorne stepped closer. "Then I'll be with you. Every second."
His voice was calm, grounding.
I took a deep breath and placed both hands on the cold frame.
My fingers pulsed with heat.
> "Annabelle…" I whispered. "I'm here. I want to help you. Show me what happened."
The hallway dimmed. The air thickened.
Suddenly, the world tilted—
And I fell into her memory.
---
The vision was blurry at first.
I stood inside the same hallway, but everything was different. The walls were bright, freshly painted. Laughter echoed down the corridor.
Then I saw her.
Annabelle.
Running.
Terrified.
A shadow chased her. Tall, inhuman. Its eyes glowed red. Its voice was a shriek.
> "You opened the veil… You don't belong!"
She screamed, tripping as the shadow reached for her.
She slammed into the portrait.
And then—silence.
Everything froze.
I gasped and fell back into the present.
Felix caught me. "Eli! You okay?"
I panted, heart racing. "It wasn't an accident. She was trying to close something. A portal. And that… thing killed her. Bound her soul to the frame."
Thorne knelt by the portrait. "It's still here. The same entity. Feeding off her pain."
"Then how do we stop it?" Luna asked.
I looked down at my hands, glowing faintly now.
"I open the Gate."
---
I stood in front of the portrait again, arms outstretched. I whispered the incantation Seraphina—my ancestors—once taught me in a dream.
> "Light through shadow, peace through flame, Let lost ones speak, release their name."
The air split.
A glowing doorway opened within the painting—blinding, golden.
Annabelle stepped forward, her eyes wide with awe.
> "Thank you…" she whispered, her voice clear now.
And then—
The shadow screamed.
It lunged out of the frame, a horrific mass of smoke and bone.
Thorne was faster.
He summoned his sword from shadow, slashing through the specter with light-infused darkness. It shrieked, dissolving into ash.
Silence returned.
Annabelle smiled once more.
Then walked into the light.
The painting faded, leaving an empty frame behind.
---
Later that night, back in the courtyard, I sat beside Thorne again.
"I didn't think I could do it," I said softly.
"You did," he replied. "You faced fear. And you freed her."
"I was only brave because you were there."
He looked at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Then I'll stay. As long as you need me."
My chest tightened.
"I think I'll need you… for a long time."
His hand brushed mine.
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
---
This was my first haunting.
But not my last.
The Arcane Institute held many secrets, many trapped souls.
But I was Eli Whitmore.
Gate Way Keeper.
And I was ready to face them.
With Thorne Everhart by my side.
To be continued…