Clear your head.

Clear your head.
Astrid POV

The hallway was buzzing with life, laughter echoing off the stone walls, papers flying from careless hands, and the usual chatter about assignments and lunch plans. For weeks now, it had been… normal. Blissfully normal. No dark shadows creeping in corners, no Vampire Lord looming over my shoulder, no bone-deep fear clawing at my chest. Just school. Just life.

I clutched the rolled-up assignment in my hand as I weaved through the crowd toward Professor Williams’ office. My thoughts were light, drifting to whether Killian would finally stop stealing Jason’s breakfast rolls in the morning or if Dove was going to murder Zora for leaving spell books all over their dorm floor.

But then—

I froze.

Amid the moving blur of students, a figure slipped past. Hooded. Tall. Something about the way the shoulders shifted, the stride… it snagged my breath like a hook in my chest. I only caught the back of them, faceless in the shadows of the hood, but—I swear—I felt them looking at me.

The hairs at the back of my neck rose.

For a heartbeat, the crowd thinned, and it was like the whole hallway slowed. My pulse hammered in my ears.

I’d been having dreams. Strange ones. Whispers at the edge of my hearing, shadows at the corners of my room that disappeared when I lit a candle. They told me it was nothing—phantoms of the past, my mind clinging to scars. And I’d believed them, or at least tried.

But this? This was different.

I blinked hard, and just like that, the figure was gone, swallowed into the sea of bodies.

“Earth to Astrid.”

I flinched when Elsie bumped her shoulder into mine, her mischievous grin instantly breaking through the fog in my head.

“Wow, you’re standing here like a statue in the middle of traffic,” she teased, waving her hand in front of my face. “What’s up? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Elsie cocked a brow. “Spill.”

I hesitated, then shook my head, trying to laugh it off. “I think I’m just… seeing things. Been happening a lot lately. Crazy dreams, shadows. Probably just stress.”

Her expression softened, the grin fading into something gentler. “Astrid, you literally saved the world from eternal darkness. You’re allowed to be stressed.”

I let out a breathy laugh, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. Stress.”

But even as I said it, my gaze flickered back down the hallway. Empty. Normal. Ordinary.

Still, I couldn’t shake the prickle down my spine.

I forced my feet to move, walking alongside Elsie, who was already rambling about some rumor involving Damon and Odin’s sparring match the night before. I smiled, nodded, and pretended to listen, but my mind… my mind stayed fixed on that hooded figure.

And the unsettling feeling that maybe—just maybe—this peace wasn’t built to last.

Professor Williams’ office always smelled faintly of chalk dust and old parchment. The shelves towered with books, scrolls tucked into every spare corner, and the man himself hunched over a pile of essays when I knocked.

He peered up over his spectacles, eyes twinkling. “Miss Astrid. Assignment, I presume?”

I handed it over with a smile, but even as I did, my head turned slightly—like I couldn’t help myself. My eyes swept the corners of the office, the open window, the crack in the door behind me. Nothing. Empty. Still, the sensation pressed down on me, heavy as a hand between my shoulder blades.

Williams caught it immediately. He had that unnerving knack for noticing things you wished he wouldn’t.

“You’ve been glancing around since you stepped in,” he said mildly, setting the rolled parchment aside. “What’s gnawing at you, child?”

I shifted on my feet, heat crawling up my neck. “It’s… nothing.”

“Mm.” He folded his hands together, resting his chin atop them. “Whenever a student tells me ‘nothing,’ it is invariably something.”

I chewed my lip, debating. Then the words tumbled out before I could stop them.

“Have you ever felt like… someone’s watching you? Not in a paranoid way but like… a presence. A weight in the room even when it’s empty. Like you’re not alone when you are.”

His brows lifted ever so slightly, his expression thoughtful instead of dismissive. “Ah,” he murmured. “Yes. More than once.”

My stomach dropped. “Really?”

He leaned back in his chair, gaze drifting to the ceiling beams. “The world is full of unseen eyes, Astrid. Magic leaves threads in the air, echoes that sometimes brush against us when we are most vulnerable. Not all watching is hostile, though. Some presences simply… are.”

I frowned. “But how do you know the difference? If it’s something dangerous?”

His smile was small, tired. “You don’t. Not always. That’s the curse of being aware. But here is the truth I’ve learned: the more you focus on the watcher, the stronger its hold becomes. Balance yourself first, and the shadows will either scatter or reveal themselves in time.”

I mulled that over, chewing my bottom lip.

“Meaning… I should ignore it?”

“Meaning,” he said, pointing at me with a chalk-dusted finger, “you should clear your head. Reset. Otherwise, you’ll tie yourself into knots of dread and see ghosts where there are none.”

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders loosening just a fraction. “And how do you suggest I ‘reset,’ Professor?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Swim. Water has a way of untangling the mind. Always has. The academy’s springs are quiet this time of day. Go. Before I assign you three more essays to distract yourself.”

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Immensely.” He leaned forward again, his voice softening. “Go, Astrid. If the shadows are real, they won’t vanish because you worry. But if they’re only in your head, you’ll drown them with ease.”

I nodded, forcing another smile as I turned toward the door. “Thanks, Professor.”

But as I stepped out into the hall, the sensation returned—like eyes sliding over my back, unseen, unblinking.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if Williams was right… or if the shadows were just waiting for me to notice them fully.