The familiar warmth of my once-cozy home now felt cold and foreign.

  Aaron collapsed into a chair the moment we arrived, his head cradled in his hands. His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and the fiery bravado that usually defined him had burned out completely. Mira, still shivering, slumped into another seat. Her vacant stare and trembling frame betrayed her inability to process the enormity of our loss. Against the wall, Jace stood tense, his hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching as fury simmered beneath his bloodshot eyes. In the corner, Elaine hugged her knees, her muffled sobs breaking the silence.

  I stood by their side, frozen with helplessness. A lump formed in my throat as I watched their grief. I was their mentor, their guide. I was supposed to have the answers, to shield them from horrors like this. But nothing had prepared me for this nightmare.

  My fists tightened as fragments of the attack replayed in my mind. What had gone wrong? The defenses should have held. Sherry should have summoned me with the artifact. What could have disrupted... The realization hit like a blade through the ribs.

  “Spies,” I whispered to myself. “It had to be spies.”

  Turning to my students, their tear-streaked faces riddled with anguish, I forced my voice to steady. “This attack wasn’t random. It was planned, calculated. Someone betrayed us, exploited our defenses and trust to destroy everything.”

  Aaron’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face twisting with anger. “Then we’ll find them,” he hissed. His voice was raw. “And we’ll make them pay.”

  Jace nodded, his jaw tight. “Whoever they are… they’re dead.”

  Mira hesitated, her voice trembling. “But… how do we fight people that could do this? We’re just students. Our teachers were so strong —and even they…” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t finish the thought.

  I stepped closer to them. “We may not know who was behind the attack, yet,” I said firmly, “but I swear I will destroy them when we find their identity.”

  Aaron and Jace spoke in unison. “We’ll fight, too. Let us help you avenge them!”

  I placed a hand on their shoulders, softening my voice. “You will. But for now, take time to grieve. What you’ve endured today, no one should ever have to face.”

  As they retreated to the guest rooms, I lingered in the main hall, staring into the soft glow of the fireplace. My thoughts turned to Sherry—her fiery resolve, her unwavering vision for the academy and its students. The image of her warm smile pierced me, sharp and unforgiving. I will not let your sacrifice be in vain.

  Activating my magical communicator, I reached out to my trusted network. If whispers of this attack existed, these contacts would hear them. Yet one by one, my calls turned up empty. No answers, no leads, only disbelief and apologies.

  When I reached the last name on my list, I was on the verge of giving up. The communicator glowed faintly before Arthur’s face appeared, his brow furrowed.

  “Aldric?” he asked surprised by my call.

  “Arthur, I need your help. The academy has fallen. Our wards… breached. Sherry…” My throat tightened. “She didn’t survive.”

  Arthur’s face paled. “That’s… impossible. Your academy was a fortress.”

  “So I thought,” I replied bitterly. “But someone found a way through. They had help, inside help. I need answers.”

  "Aldric, I had no idea. I swear.”

  “Can you swear upon your soul that you truly didn't know?"

  Arthur’s face darkened. The silence heavy between us before he finally spoke.

  “I swear, Aldric. On my soul and on my magic. I didn’t know. But this… if what you’re saying is true, then something far worse is at play.”

  His admission sent a chill through me. Arthur wasn’t one to make dramatic statements lightly. “What do you mean? What do you know?”

  He hesitated for a moment before leaning closer to the magical communicator. His voice dropped. “I’ve been hearing rumors of an organization working in the shadows. They call themselves the Obsidian Order. No one knows their full purpose, but they’ve been targeting power centers across the continent. Strongholds, academies, fortresses, all either destroyed or weakened from within.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The name sent a jolt through me. I had come across rumors of the Obsidian Order before, vague reports, half-truths, but nothing concrete. “And you think they’re behind this?”

  Arthur nodded grimly. “I can’t be sure, but it fits their pattern. They use systematic strikes designed to dismantle defenses from within.”

  “If they’re behind this…” my voice turned cold, “I’ll find them. And they will pay.”

  Arthur expression turned grave. “Be careful, Aldric. I know you’re grieving, but don’t rush into this. They aren’t amateurs. If you wreak havoc without a plan you might fall into their traps.”

  “Let them try,” I said coldly. “I’ll bury them.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “Just… be careful. I’ll dig around, see what else I can find. And Aldric… I’m sorry. Sherry didn’t deserve this.”

  His image faded, leaving me alone once more.

  The Obsidian Order.

  At least I had a clue now.

  As I sank into my chair, I considered my options. Finding the culprits was critical, but vengeance alone wouldn’t bring back the dead. My thoughts drifted to the experimental spell, my life’s work.

  Reversing time wasn’t just theoretical. I had tested the spell before, but never beyond a minute. Attempting a greater leap could unravel the timeline, or worse, kill me. But what choice did I have?

  For my family, my students, my friends… I had to try.

  But first, I needed answers. Only then would I risk the greatest gamble of my life.

  ***The next day***

  The first rays of dawn filtered through the windows. I hadn’t slept. The previous night’s horrors replayed in my mind over and over again. They clung to me like a second skin. Sherry's cold corpse. Uncountable bodies, many so disfigured that I couldn't even figure out their identities.

  The survivors's list remained uncertain, and with it, the identity of potential spies as well.

  I retrieved a fresh notebook from the shelf and set it on my desk. Vengeance demanded strategy; anger alone would not serve me here. With trembling hands, I opened the cover and began sketching lines and circles, structuring the labyrinth of questions tangled in my mind.

  At the center, I drew the academy’s defenses—layers of adaptive wards meant to withstand the most dangerous of threats. Their impenetrability had been my pride, and now, their failure felt like a knife twisting in my gut. How could they fail so spectacularly unless someone had fed their secrets to our enemies?

  My thoughts darkened as I jotted names, those few in my inner circle who knew of the sigils, who might have been able to override them. The same people I had once trusted unconditionally.

  As I listed names, my stomach churned. Could some of them even be alive? Who among them had betrayed me?

  I conjured the communicator again, muttering Arthur’s name. The device brightened, and his fatigued face emerged.

  “Aldric,” he greeted wearily. “Did you find something already?”

  “I found some leads,” I began. “Two months ago, Sherry and I integrated a new layer of defensive sigils around the academy. The encryption was unbreakable, or so we thought. Beyond her and me, only a select few were privy to the details.”

  Arthur’s face hardened. “Are you implying someone in your inner circle gave them the key to bypass the wards?”

  I nodded. “What else explains it? Someone with detailed knowledge fed them what they needed. And if one of my own betrayed me…”

  Arthur' voice dropped. “Think carefully, Aldric. Could it have been desperation? Blackmail? Anyone in your ranks showing signs of… struggle?”

  I hated the plausibility in his suggestion, my stomach churning as I replayed the faces of colleagues, friends and allies. “Struggle doesn’t justify the annihilation of everything we’ve built, if the spy needed help he could have asked Sherry or me” I snapped. “But I’ll dig deeper. There has to be a trace. Something we’ve overlooked.”

  Arthur nodded grimly. “Be careful where you dig. Your spies may have the backing of the Obsidian Order, or they might have been left alive to lead you into a trap.”

  His image dissolved into the ether, leaving me alone with the lingering weight of his warning.

  I rested for a moment, closing my eyes while massaging my aching temples.

  After a few minutes, I reopened my notebook, scratching out broader possibilities and abandoning the certainty of trust. Friends, colleagues. I couldn’t afford to dismiss anyone. Not until I understood why Sherry hadn’t used the artifact.

  But even my grief couldn’t hold back a darker compulsion. There was a way. My eyes landed on my final page of notes, my temporal magic. A spell I had created in my laboratory, a spell that had worked. For a minute.

  Stretching that to hours or even days posed risks I couldn’t ignore. Chronal distortion, rupture of events. Death.

  Yet, the carnage was vivid in my memory, If I could undo that horror, no cost was too high.

  No, not yet. First, I needed to know the truth behind the Obsidian Order’s grip on us, and why they had chosen us as their target. Answers first. And if they refused to surface in this timeline, I would tear another into being to force them out.

  I closed the notebook and leaned back in my chair, exhaling shakily. For now, one thing alone kept me from losing my mind was their faces. Sherry, my colleagues, my students. The many who had been cut down indiscriminately. I needed to uncover the truth and go back to the past to save them.

  I won't let you die in vain. I swear. I will go back to snatch all of you back from the death-god embrace.

  I had an idea on how the find the culprits. The magical tower had an unparalleled magical surveillance, its arcane crystals recording events across the region. Despite the academy’s protective wards rendering its interior undetectable, the comings and goings at its borders would still have left traces here—footprints in time that could not be erased.