Ghosts in the Archive

The cold air clung to me like a second skin, sharp and biting against the remnants of residual heat from the Shadow Archive. I stood outside the Magic Tower University, the towering structure looming behind me, its countless wards woven into the very stone. The dagger sat heavy in my palm—an artifact, a message, a warning. The Gravekeeper's sigil gleamed faintly under the moonlight, etched deep into the steel. It pulsed with a residual energy, something not quite alive but not entirely dormant either.