I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring at the faint golden light flickering gently along the walls of my dorm room. A restless silence stretched around me, interrupted only by the muffled crackle of magic lanterns, and the distant rumble of thunder rolling lazily across the night sky. It should have been comforting a quiet sanctuary but tonight, every shadow seemed deeper, every sound sharper.
My mind drifted inevitably back to the forbidden wing and the mural we'd discovered. It felt impossible, yet the painted girl had looked exactly like me silver hair flowing like molten moonlight, her expression set in defiance, strength radiating from her stance. And beside her stood Velka, or someone who might as well have been her twin: a vampire guardian, her crimson gaze protective and familiar, framed by endless shadows.
How could that be? The painting predated Arcanum by centuries, yet that pair those two figures etched into stone and pigment felt achingly, terrifyingly familiar.
