Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance-Chapter 58: Immeasurable

Silver that pulsed faintly with unseen power. The floors shifted texture between soft-grained marble and something warmer, almost like flesh. Occasionally, I passed murals that moved when I wasn’t looking directly at them.

The aide stopped before a tall wooden door framed by thin blue flames that didn’t burn.

He pressed a palm to a sigil, and it hissed open.

This is a very special place that was given," he said quietly, eyes still averted. "For you."

"You think?"

He swallowed. "Good night."

The door slid shut behind me.

Inside, the room was too silent. Too still. Like it had been waiting for someone.

A bed of floating glass hovered near a wide circular window that stared out into open night and three moons. All in different phases.

The air smelled like cedar and ozone. There was no fireplace, yet I felt warmth. And yet... something itched under my skin. Still. I was too tired to care. I just needed some, no a very long rest...

I peeled off the spare tunic someone had given me and climbed into the bed, muscles screaming with every movement. As soon as I lay back, the bed molded itself to me, like memory foam with its own mind.

I closed my eyes.

I shouldn’t have.

The Dream

The world cracked.

One moment I was weightless, breath slowing...

And the next, I stood in a forest of bones, the sky above a swirl of bleeding stars. Silver mist clung to the roots, and from somewhere nearby came the sound of a lullaby sung backwards.

I wasn’t in my body. Or maybe I was.

But my hands were covered in blood.

I turned.

She stood there.

The woman who looked like me. Same jaw. Same scar on her brow. Same silver in the left eye.

But she felt so wrong.

Her smile was stretched too wide. Her eyes glowed red from the inside. Her hair fell around her shoulders like liquid shadow, and her skin seemed... burned. Charred in cracks that bled gold light.

"You don’t belong here," she said softly.

Her voice layered over mine. Like an echo made of venom.

I took a step back.

She mirrored it.

Then she screamed.

"DIE! DIE! DIE!"

She lunged.

I tried to move, but my limbs turned heavy. She slammed into me, knocking me into a field of ash. Her hands went for my throat, claws lengthening like knives.

I punched her across the face.

But she only laughed.

"You’re the mistake," she hissed, blood running down her jaw. "You think you’re real? You’re the shadow. I’m the flame."

I shifted.

Or tried to.

My wolf came up inside me but she was already there, too. Twisting, snarling, wearing my form like a stolen coat.

She ripped through me.

I screamed.

And woke—

Reality

—gasping, sitting bolt upright in the hovering bed, sweat slicking my skin.

The room pulsed once with low blue light.

I looked down.

There were claw marks scorched into the glass walls.

My claws.

But I hadn’t shifted.

Had I?

I pressed a hand to my chest, heart racing. The dream felt too real. I could still hear her voice.

"Die."

I got out of bed slowly, unsteady, and walked to the mirror.

My reflection stared back.

Except... for a fraction of a second... she smiled when I didn’t.

I didn’t sleep again.

After the dream, I couldn’t even close my eyes without hearing that voice.

Die. Die. Die.

Every time I blinked, I saw her face lunging toward me. Saw my own claws flashing, my own blood staining the ground. I’d checked the mirror five times. I looked normal. But I didn’t feel normal.

My body was humming like a charged wire. As if something inside me had been cracked open and hadn’t sealed shut again.

Whatever that dream was... it had stayed in my head.

I curled up on the floating glass bed, knees to my chest, eyes wide in the darkness. The room never fully went black — the soft blue sigils etched into the walls pulsed quietly, like a heartbeat.

My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, agitated.

She didn’t like this place. Neither did I.

But we were here now.

And the sun was rising.

Too fast.

The sky outside the curved window turned pale gold, the edge of the third moon dipping below the horizon like it was embarrassed to still be there. Bells rang out in soft tones — not metal, more like hollow crystal — echoing across the academy.

A gentle knock tapped on the door.

I stood, already dressed.

The door slid open on its own this time. The same aide stood there, back stiff, eyes downcast. He didn’t look like he’d slept either.

"Lady Valeen asked that you be brought to Orientation Hall," he said. "The other new recruits are already gathered."

Other recruits.

Other Students.

Magical creatures from this world. Born with abilities, trained in runes and rituals since childhood. I was something else entirely. A wolf pulled from another realm, flung into this one through a dying portal, shaped by hunger and betrayal.

But the aide didn’t know that.

None of them did.

As we walked through the corridors, I caught glimpses of the others through open archways and long glass-paneled walls. Students dressed in sleek uniforms of shimmering dark blue and black — some with horns or wings or glowing sigils on their skin. Magic pulsed in the air like electricity, but none of them seemed to notice me.

No whispers.

No wide-eyed stares.

They didn’t know.

They hadn’t seen what happened when the recruiter’s test exploded from touching me. Hadn’t felt the blast of raw, unmeasured power that cracked the sky open.

I was just another new face.

And for now, that was good.

Let them think I was normal. I really really didn’t want any form of attention.

The doors to the Orientation Hall opened with a soft whoosh.

It was massive, all pale stone and glimmering archways, with a high domed ceiling.