The faint morning light streamed through the towering windows of Mecatopia Academy, casting golden rays over the cobblestone floors. Isabella moved silently through the empty halls, her heart pounding as she made her way to the ancient library. She avoided the main corridors, her footsteps soft as she slipped into the shadows.

The library doors creaked open, revealing a room filled with towering shelves, their books covered in dust and mystery. The air was thick with the smell of parchment and history. Isabella’s fingers trailed across the spines of ancient tomes until she found what she was looking for: “The Essence of True Dragon Blood.”

Sitting at a dusty table, she flipped through the fragile pages, her eyes scanning for answers. The words struck her like lightning:

"Those with true dragon blood cannot be burned. Fire is their birthright, their essence."

She froze, her mind rushing back to that day. Maria had thrown her into the flames, and while the heat scorched the air around her, her skin remained untouched. It wasn’t luck—it was her blood.

"Am I truly a dragon-blooded witch?" she whispered to herself, doubt creeping in. She turned the pages frantically, searching for anything that could explain the strange dreams she’d been having about dragons and crowns. Each passage she read only deepened her confusion, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together.

Suddenly, a muffled noise echoed from outside the library, pulling her from her thoughts. Frowning, she quietly closed the book and crept toward the doorway.

From the shadows, she watched as a group of professors hurried toward the main office. Their expressions were grim, their voices low but urgent. Isabella moved closer, her heart racing as she strained to hear their conversation.

“It’s happening again,” Professor Adams said, his tone sharp. “More killings last night. This time, it wasn’t just humans—two supernaturals were found slaughtered.”

“And the tattoo?” Professor Elara asked, her voice trembling.

“Same as always,” Adams replied. “The mark was on their bodies, the trees, the walls. The hunters said it points to a circular cave in the eastern woods, but no one dares to go inside. Not yet.”

“What about the students?” another professor whispered. “The healers have been disappearing, too. They’re vanishing without a trace.”

Adams sighed. “We’ll keep it quiet for now. No one is allowed near that cave until the hunters finish their research.”

Isabella’s stomach churned. Tattooed bodies. Disappearing healers. A forbidden cave. The pieces felt connected, but how? She slipped away before they could notice her, her thoughts spinning.

By the time she found her friends in the courtyard, her anxiety had turned into urgency. They sat under the sprawling oak tree, laughing about something Felix had said, but their smiles faded when they saw her expression.

“What’s wrong?” Lysandra asked, scooting closer.

Isabella hesitated for a moment, then spilled everything. “The professors… they’re hiding something. Someone’s been killing humans and supernaturals, leaving this strange tattoo on their bodies. And the healers—” she paused, lowering her voice, “—they’ve been disappearing from the school.”

“Disappearing?” Felix frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Isabella admitted. “But there’s more. They found a cave, some kind of circular cave, and no one’s allowed near it. They think it’s connected to the murders.”

Sirela’s eyes widened. “That’s… disturbing. But why are they keeping it from us?”

“That’s not all,” Isabella continued, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “
"Its all happening after Arathor and his friends arrived here." Felix said.

“But we don’t have proof,” Lysandra said softly. “We need to be careful.”

Isabella nodded, her mind racing. The tattoos, the cave, Arathor’s strange behavior—it all felt connected, but the pieces were scattered. If the professors wouldn’t find the truth, she would.

“I think we need to go to that cave,” she said, her voice steady. “Whatever’s happening, it’s tied to that place.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Are you insane? If the professors said it’s dangerous, it probably is.”

“I’m not asking you to come,” Isabella replied firmly. “But I can’t ignore this. Not when so many lives are at stake.”

Phillip placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not going alone.”

The group exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.

The night was still, the air thick with tension as the moon hung low over the dense forest that surrounded Mechatopia Academy. A biting chill swept through the towering trees, rustling the leaves as the shadows danced between the ancient trunks. Isabella moved swiftly through the undergrowth, her heart thudding in her chest as the feeling of something watching them pressed heavily on her senses.

"Do you feel that?" Isabella whispered, her voice barely audible above the crunch of leaves beneath their feet.

Felix, just a few paces behind her, nodded grimly. "Yeah... we're not alone." His eyes darted toward the surrounding darkness.

Phillip, silent and brooding as usual, had already morphed his vampire senses to full alert, his gaze scanning the distance, listening to the rhythm of the forest and the heartbeat of his friends. Sirela moved with a fluid grace, her siren senses on edge, while Aurora trailed behind, her own power thrumming quietly within her. They had been hunting, searching for clues about the growing unrest in Mechatopia, but the night had taken a darker turn.

Ahead, something glowed faintly in the dark, pale, sickly light etched into the bark of a tree. As they neared, the glow grew stronger, illuminating a strange, arcane symbol burned into the trunk, pulsing like a heartbeat.

"Another one," Isabella breathed, her eyes narrowing as she knelt before the tree, inspecting the symbol. It was the same intricate design they had found in the aftermath of recent attacks—an eye surrounded by jagged lines and crescent shapes. The closer she got, the more the air seemed to thrum with dark energy.

Phillip’s voice was low and tight. "Professors were certainly talking about these symbols. This is no ordinary marks."

Isabella reached out cautiously, feeling the residual power radiating from the symbol. It was dark, ancient, and twisted. Her magic responded to it like a tug on her soul, sending a chill up her spine.

"We need to figure out what this is, and fast. It’s getting stronger," Lysandra said, standing over her shoulder.

"We need answers," Isabella murmured, her voice tinged with unease.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped, and the light from the symbol flared brighter. Isabella shot to her feet, sensing a presence before she saw it. A shadow—darker than the night itself—began to form in the air, a figure looming just beyond the symbol. It was tall and vague, its edges rippling like smoke, with eyes that glowed a deep crimson.

"Run!" Isabella hissed, her hand shooting out to create a barrier of wind between them and the figure.

But the shadow didn’t move. Instead, it seemed to stare directly at them, its presence more oppressive than any physical attack. The group backed away, wariness in their eyes, as the shadow spoke—a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, like whispers caught on the wind.

"You cannot stop what has already begun."

The words made the ground tremble beneath their feet, the forest seeming to groan in response. Isabella’s heart raced as she realized what they were dealing with. This wasn’t a simple creature or rogue supernatural; this was something far worse.

The shadow tilted its head slightly, as though considering them. "The mark binds them to me... their blood will awaken me."

Phillip growled low in his throat, his fangs visible as his eyes burned with anger. "What do you want?"

The shadow laughed softly, a sound like rustling leaves in a storm. "You will know soon enough. But I’ll tell you this—your bloodlines are ancient. And they are the key to my freedom."

The ground beneath the group began to pulse with energy, the symbol in the tree flaring brightly once again. Isabella felt a pull in her chest, a connection to the dark magic radiating from the figure. Her magic reacted violently, forcing her to take a step back as she clenched her fists.

"What are you?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear creeping into her heart.

The shadow didn’t answer right away. Instead, it shifted, growing larger, more defined. "I was once a guardian of this realm," it said, its voice laced with something that sounded almost like regret. "But your founders betrayed me, imprisoned me in a world of darkness. And now, with every marked one, I grow stronger. Soon, I will be free."

"Guardian?" Sirela muttered, looking confused. "You were supposed to protect this land?"

The shadow seemed to smirk, its eyes glowing brighter. "And I did. Until they feared me. Feared what I could become."

Isabella’s mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest. The legends of Mecatopia’s founding spoke of powerful entities, protectors of the realm. Could this shadow be one of them? An ancient guardian turned malevolent?

"You’re using these marks to drain power from supernaturals," she said, piecing it together. "To break free from your prison."

"Very good," the shadow replied, a mocking tone in its voice. "Your bloodline holds more potential than I thought." Isabella confidently asked "what you know about my bloodline just tell me?"

Shadow laugh but didn't reply.

Phillip stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. "You’re not getting out. Not if we have anything to do with it."

The shadow laughed again, louder this time, and the trees seemed to shudder. "You think you can stop me? I’ve already begun. The hunters... they’ll do my work for me. They crave blood, and they will spill it."

Before any of them could react, the shadow vanished, leaving behind only the faint glow of the symbol on the tree. The forest fell silent, the oppressive air lifting slightly, but the sense of dread remained.

"We need to warn the others," Isabella said, her voice tense. "This thing... it’s using everyone—supernaturals, hunters—it’s playing us all."

"We need to find a way to stop these symbols from spreading," Sirela said, determination filling her voice. "Before it’s too late."

"But how?" Lysandra asked, her voice small. "We don’t even know what we’re dealing with."

"We’ll find out," Isabella said, her eyes hardening. "We have to."

The forest was dense and eerie, the moonlight barely piercing through the thick canopy of leaves. Isabella, Sirela, Evelina, and Felix moved cautiously through the undergrowth, their footsteps muffled by the damp soil. They were deep in the shadowed parts of the forest, where legends warned no one to linger.

Isabella stopped, her silver hair catching the faint light. "This is where the markings end," she said, tracing her fingers over a tree trunk with strange dark symbols carved into it.

"Shadow beings," Evelina murmured. "They’re stronger than we thought. But why are the hunters marking these areas?"

Before anyone could respond, the sound of footsteps and hushed voices broke through the quiet. A group of hunters emerged from the shadows, weapons gleaming in the faint light.

"Well, well," one of the hunters sneered, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek. "What are a bunch of kids doing out here in these cursed woods?"

Isabella straightened, her voice calm but firm. "We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re trying to stop the shadow beings. Killing supernaturals with the mark only strengthens them. You’re making things worse."

The hunters exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. "You expect us to believe that? Maybe the shadow beings are here because of you," the scarred man accused, stepping closer. His eyes locked on Isabella’s unique appearance—platinum hair, dragon-like aura, and an otherworldly presence.

His gaze turned cold. "Or maybe it’s because of you, girl. You don’t belong here. Whatever you are, it’s unnatural."

Felix growled low in his throat. "Watch your words."

The hunter raised his gun, smirking. "I think we’ve heard enough. If the shadow beings come for us, it’s because of her kind. Maybe we need to get rid of you to end this curse."

"Run!" Isabella shouted.

The group bolted, weaving through the trees as the hunters shouted and opened fire. Bullets whizzed past them, some ricocheting off nearby rocks. Sirela stumbled but pushed forward, her breath ragged.

"Don’t stop!" Felix yelled, glancing back to make sure they were all keeping up.

Suddenly, Sirela's foot caught on a twisted root. She screamed as she lost her balance, tumbling down a steep incline. The others skidded to a halt, looking back.

"Sirela!" Evelina cried out.

But the hunters were too close. Gunfire rang out, forcing them to keep running.

Sirela’s scream faded as she slid further down the slope, landing with a thud in a dark, damp cave. She groaned, pushing herself up, her palms scraping against the rough stone floor. Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. The cave was massive, its walls pulsing with a faint, malevolent glow. A chilling presence surrounded her, making the hair on her arms stand on end.

"Shadow beings," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Above, the group had no choice but to retreat. They ran until they reached the edge of the forest, panting and disheveled.

"She fell," Evelina choked, tears streaming down her face. "We left her."

Isabella’s fists clenched, her expression a mixture of fear and determination. "We’ll go back," she promised. "But not without a plan. Those hunters... and whatever’s in that cave… We can’t face them unprepared."

Felix growled, his eyes glowing faintly. "We’d better hurry. If those shadow beings find her first, we might be too late."

The group exchanged a grim look, the weight of their decision settling heavily on their shoulders. In the dark forest behind them, Sirela was alone, trapped in the heart of the shadows.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains of her room, Isabella slowly awoke, her body still aching from the events of the past month. The soft golden rays of the October sun warmed her face, a stark contrast to the darkness she had faced recently. She sat up in bed, her mind drifting back over the past weeks.

The nightmare about the ancient library and the vision of the Crown haunted her nights. She often woke drenched in sweat, the words “We waited for you for centuries” echoing in her mind.

Pushing aside the lingering fatigue, Isabella rose from her bed. The room was filled with the scent of fresh linens and the faint aroma of the herbal poultices she had been using to heal her wounds. She dressed in her robes.
Through portal she left to academy.