Alone With the Dark

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows against the walls of my room. I sat at my desk, hunched over a stack of notes, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time. The words blurred together, my mind refusing to absorb anything useful.

I exhaled sharply and leaned back, rubbing my temples. Focus Mara, focus on the stupid notes.

I had always been good at that—pushing through exhaustion, drowning out distractions, forcing my mind to bend to my will. But these past weeks had been different. Ever since… the ceremony.

Ever since then.

I clenched my jaw, my hand tightening around my quill.

I had seen things that night I couldn't explain. Things I didn't want to understand. The cult, the ritual, the power they wielded—it had burrowed into my thoughts like a disease, and no matter how hard I tried to scrub it away, it lingered.

Even now, alone in my room, I could feel it.