Aisha's Vision
The night air in Colegio Mayor Unidad had grown cold. Too cold. Aisha stood by the window, staring at the moon. But this time… the moon stared back.
"You're not alone anymore," whispered the voice inside her. Not her voice. Not human.
The book in her lap vibrated. Its leather cover pulsed like skin. She hadn't opened it—yet it breathed under her fingers.
She dared to look again at the last page she'd stopped on.
And saw Zaira.
Her face. Her body. Her wounds.
Burning.
"No…" Aisha gasped.
But it wasn't a drawing. The page moved.
Zaira staggered across the parchment, leaving blood prints in her wake. Behind her, wolves circled. And one of them…
Had golden eyes.
The Vision Deepens
Suddenly, Aisha was no longer in her room.
She stood in a forest drowned in fog and flame.
Zaira knelt before her.
"I didn't want this for you," she said, voice ragged. "I only wanted you to remember me... not be me."
Aisha stepped back.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the reason he can't love you without guilt."
"Who?"
The wind howled. A silver medallion landed at her feet, split in two.
"Sanathiel," Zaira whispered.
"He watched me burn. Now he watches you live."
A scream cut through the trees—Aisha's scream—but it wasn't hers.
She awoke with the taste of ashes in her mouth.
"They must just be dreams… Nothing more than dreams."
"She shook her head and quickened her pace."
Then she turned the corner and collided with someone.
The impact made her stagger, but before she could fall, firm hands caught her.
"Sorry," murmured a deep voice.
Aisha looked up, and the air seemed to thicken around her.
The stranger's eyes were dark, unfathomable, yet something about them felt familiar.
Her heart skipped a beat, and for a second, an unexpected warmth burned in her chest, as if a spark had ignited inside her.
But at the same time, a cold emptiness spread in her stomach, a shadow whispering caution.
"You…" she whispered, voice trembling.
On his left wrist, a scar shaped like three circles glowed faintly beneath the rolled-up sleeve.
The young man frowned. A golden flash crossed his dark pupils before he bent down, moving with the fluidity of a predator capturing its prey.
"Are you okay?" he asked, handing her a notebook.
Aisha took it, but as she did, a loose page slipped to the floor, open to a scribbled drawing of a wolf. Not an ordinary sketch, but a silhouette made up of words repeated over and over: "Sanathiel."
The young man's gaze fixed on the page. His lips curved into a cold smile.
"Do you like fairy tales, Aisha?" he said calmly. "Wolves always bite in the end."
Aisha felt a chill climb her spine.
"What…?"
He leaned a little closer, the edge of his voice brushing her skin.
"The red moon's dreams are poisonous loans, little thief. And the wolf… smells the blood of those who steal other's memories."
The air seemed to run out of oxygen. Aisha froze, blood pounding in her ears.
But when she blinked, he was already walking away down the corridor, as if his presence had been nothing more than a fleeting shadow.
Who the hell is he?
Hours later, in the classroom, Aisha tried to focus on the lesson, but her mind remained trapped in the morning's encounter.
When the teacher called the roll, his voice cut through the silence.
"The new student Rasen, you'll be working with Miss Aisha."
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Aisha looked up. He was already watching her.
There was something in the way he looked at her, the way he settled into the seat beside her, that put her on edge.
His presence was suffocating, his posture relaxed but cautious, like a predator sizing up its prey.
Aisha tightened the pen in her hand and began to write.
Sanathiel.
Unconsciously, she had traced the name over and over in her notebook.
Rasen tilted his head, expression unreadable.
"Your hand is trembling," he commented casually, but his eyes shone with something deeper.
Aisha snapped the pen away abruptly.
"It's not."
Rasen smiled, but it was no ordinary smile. It was a test, a silent game in which she didn't know her role.
Later, the halls were almost empty as Aisha entered the bathroom.
The lights flickered. The sound of dripping water from the taps broke the silence with an irregular rhythm.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her pupils were dilated, her breath ragged.
It's not real...
But then, a figure appeared in the doorway.
Aisha spun on her heels.
Rasen stood there, motionless.
Rainwater dripped from his black hair and dark jacket, but his large eyes did not blink.
"What are you?" Aisha demanded, clutching the notebook to her chest.
Rasen pointed at the drawing of the wolf on the open page.
"The same as you," he replied calmly. "A mistake someone wants to fix."
Thunder rumbled outside.
For a moment, in the mirror, her reflection fractured into a thousand shards.
Among the fragments, shadows with fiery eyes writhed, clawing at the glass from a place beyond this world. Twisting with elongated claws.
Aisha stepped back, her heart hammering in her chest.
The sound of water changed.
The dripping became thicker, denser. Black.
Aisha swallowed hard.
Rasen took a step forward.
"We will meet soon, Aisha."
Then, as if reality itself had faltered, he vanished.
The rain carried away his words, but not the symbol left imprinted in the air with violet smoke: "S.S.V."
Before disappearing, Rasen had raised his left hand in an almost ritual gesture.