Chapter 164: The Buried Truth

And so Cindy began that day as she always had, with her friend by her side. She went to class like normal, practiced her spells, and moved through her days in quiet comfort as if she had forgotten whether this was reality or just a memory of the past.

Now she was in the garden, sitting comfortably on a stone bench beneath the shade of an old oak tree. The academy gardens were quiet this time of day, the paths mostly empty, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of students in the courtyards beyond.

She remembered it then, the way it had all started.

Luna had been bullied for her eyes. Blood-red, unsettling, the kind of color that made people whisper and look away. The other students had mocked her for it, called her cursed, pushed her books out of her hands and laughed when she scrambled to pick them up.

Cindy had stepped in.

She didn’t remember exactly what she’d said — something sharp, something final — but she remembered the way the bullies had backed off, their faces red with embarrassment. And she remembered the way Luna had looked at her afterward, those frightening red eyes wide with surprise and something close to tears.

From that day on, they had been inseparable.

A touch on her shoulder pulled her from the memory.

Cindy turned and saw Luna standing beside her, a stack of books balanced in her arms as always. She was smiling, her ponytail slightly askew, her red eyes warm.

"See? You’re spacing out again," Luna said, settling onto the bench beside her. She set the books down with a soft thud and tilted her head, studying Cindy’s face. "Why have you been spacing out so much lately, Cindy?"

Cindy blinked, caught off guard.

"What? I haven’t been—"

"You have," Luna interrupted, her voice gentle but firm. "You’ve been quiet. Distracted. You keep drifting off in the middle of conversations." She paused, her expression softening. "Is something wrong? You know you can tell me, right?"

Cindy remembered how real Luna’s kindness had been. It had always been there, in the small things, the quiet moments. And even now, knowing what she knew, the memory still warmed her heart.

"Me? Spacing out? I was just admiring how your books are going to give you back problems by the time you’re thirty."

Luna gasped, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? These books are the foundation of my future greatness. You should be thanking them."

"Thanking them? I should be staging an intervention. You carry more books than the academy library."

"And yet I’m still smarter than you," Luna said, sticking out her tongue.

Cindy laughed, and Luna laughed with her. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

But even then, Cindy knew. Luna had talent, yes — but it was a talent forged through struggle, through sleepless nights and endless effort. She had to fight for every inch of progress, while Cindy simply... existed. Things that took Luna months to master, Cindy could do in days. Things that made Luna cry with frustration, Cindy accomplished without a second thought.

That was real talent. And Cindy understood, even then, that it was the kind of talent that could make someone bitter. Luna never said it out loud. But the seed of envy was already there, buried deep in her heart, waiting to grow.

That was why Cindy had held back. She didn’t want Luna to feel like her hard work meant nothing. So she learned less, practiced less, stayed just behind, all so Luna could feel like she was keeping up.

And while they sat there laughing, a group of familiar faces appeared in the distance.

The same ones who had bullied Luna years ago. They were laughing amongst themselves, not even looking in Luna and Cindy’s direction, but the sight of them was enough.

Luna’s expression darkened.

"Those people," she said, her voice low and cold. "They made me suffer, and yet they can still laugh like nothing happened. I can never forgive them for that." Her hands tightened around the books in her lap. "I hope they suffer."

Cindy reached out and placed a hand on Luna’s arm.

"Hey. Calm down. They’re not worth it."

Luna didn’t calm down. If anything, her voice grew sharper.

"I’ll make them pay one day. All of them. They’ll regret ever looking down on me."

Cindy remembered then, the way Luna truly was. When she was close to someone, she talked endlessly, about books, about magic, about her dreams. She cared deeply, fiercely, about the people she loved. But she also never forgot a slight. She never let go of a grudge. And beneath all her confidence and ambition was a quiet, festering inferiority complex, a wound that had never fully healed.

Cindy didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to see this side of Luna, the side that scared her.

So she tried to change the subject.

"What are you reading, Luna? Let me see."

She reached for the books in Luna’s lap.

"Don’t—!"

But it was too late. The books tumbled from Luna’s arms, scattering across the stone bench and the grass below. Cindy gasped and immediately leaned down to help.

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—"

But Luna’s expression had changed.

Her red eyes were wide. Her face was pale. Her hands were trembling as she scrambled to gather the books, her movements frantic, desperate.

And then Cindy saw it.

One book had fallen open. Its pages were dark, covered in symbols and diagrams that Cindy recognized immediately, the sigils of necromancy. The binding was black leather, worn and ancient, and the title on the spine was written in a language she had only seen in restricted archives.

Luna snatched the book up and shoved it into her robe.

"Luna...?" Cindy said, her voice uncertain.

But Luna didn’t answer. She grabbed the remaining books, clutched them to her chest, and turned away.

"I have somewhere to be," she said quickly. "I’ll see you later."

"Wait, Luna—"

But Luna was already running.

She disappeared down the garden path, her books clutched tight, her footsteps fading into the distance.

After the incident, the bullies were found dead the next morning.

Their bodies were found in their dormitory, cold and still, their faces frozen in expressions of terror. The academy was thrown into chaos. Instructors whispered behind closed doors. Students huddled in groups, trading rumors and fear. No one knew what had killed them, but everyone knew it was no accident.

A curse, they said. A powerful one.

Cindy stood at the edge of the crowd, her small hands trembling at her sides. She remembered the book of necromancy. The way Luna had panicked, had shoved it into her robe, had run away without looking back.

She knew, and the knowledge burned inside her like a poison she couldn’t spit out.

She wanted to confront Luna. She wanted to scream at her, to demand the truth, to ask why. But every time she opened her mouth, the words died in her throat.

Because Luna was her only friend.

The only person who had ever cared about her. The only person who had laughed with her, studied with her, shared her bread and her secrets and her dreams. If she accused Luna, if she was right, then what? She would lose the only person who mattered.

And if she was wrong?

She would lose her anyway.

The dilemma tore at her, day after day, night after night. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t look at Luna without feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on her chest.

So she did the only thing she could.

She buried it.

The memory, the suspicion, the fear, all of it. She pushed it down, deeper and deeper, until it was nothing more than a faint shadow at the edge of her mind. She convinced herself that it had never happened. That the book was a coincidence. That the bullies’ deaths were a tragedy, not a murder.

And she went back to Luna.

She smiled. She laughed. She studied with her, ate with her, shared her bread and her secrets and her dreams. She pretended that nothing had changed, because pretending was easier than losing her only friend.

The memory buried itself deeper.

And the years passed.

Then the world around her began to fade.

The academy garden dissolved, the oak tree and the stone bench bleeding into nothing.

Cindy stood alone in the darkness.

She was no longer the young student sitting in the garden. She was herself again, the axolotl, the soul in the locket, the mage who had been betrayed and left to die.

She raised her head, her silver eyes cold and steady.

"Are you satisfied, peeking into someone’s memories?"