Chapter 3: Ivy’s Warning

Elian walked slowly across the dimly lit circus tent, the scent of burnt incense and old paper thick in the air. His steps echoed softly—tap… tap… tap…—as he approached a crimson curtain decorated with dangling bones and silver charms. A sign hung crookedly:

"IVY — She Who Sees Through Smoke and Bone."

He pushed aside the curtain, revealing a dim room glowing with lavender candles. Sitting in the center was a woman veiled in layers of silk, her hair woven with dried flowers, her fingers hovering above tarot cards that moved as if breathing.

Elian hesitated. “You’re the fortune teller, right?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyelids slowly lifted to reveal glowing white eyes, milky and clouded, with thin, chalk-white tears crawling down her cheeks. Her voice came out soft and hollow, like wind through dry leaves.

“The future is a whisper sewn into your shadow, Elian…”

He froze. “You know my name?”

She tilted her head, then spoke again—this time in riddles:

“My name lies in ivy, but never on leaves.

It curls like smoke and sleeps beneath eaves.

Speak it and stars might blink in reply—

Three syllables, soft, like a lullaby…”

Elian blinked, trying to puzzle it out. He caught only fragments:

"Ivy… smoke… lullaby…"

The name danced just out of reach, like a word he’d once known in a dream.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered.

Ivy smiled, her teeth too sharp.

“Then perhaps you are not ready to know.”

Elian’s breath caught in his throat. The smoke curled around his ankles like curious fingers, but Ivy didn’t vanish—she just sat there, her glowing white eyes unblinking, tears still streaming like faint trails of milk down her cheeks.

He took a cautious step forward.

“Can I ask you something else?” he murmured.

She gave a slow nod, her head tilting ever so slightly, the way a doll might.

He swallowed hard. “Are you…” he hesitated, then forced it out,

“Are you the imposter in this game?”

For a moment, silence. The only sound was the soft crackle of wax dripping from the candles.

Then Ivy smiled—small, unsettling, as if she knew too much. She reached out and turned over one tarot card without looking.

It was blank.

Still, she said nothing.

The white tears continued to fall. One landed on the table with a quiet plip, sending a cold shiver down Elian’s spine.

“Why won’t you answer me?” he asked, voice shaking.

Ivy finally opened her mouth to speak—but it was only another riddle:

“The wolf may wear a mask of lamb,

And silence wraps around their plan.

But mirrors crack when truths unfold…

Watch the fire before it’s cold.”

Elian’s heart pounded. He didn’t know what any of it meant.

Before Elian could ask anything else,

a loud, terrifying voice boomed through the circus tent:

“IVY! GET HERE. NOW!”

The candles flickered violently—some blew out with a sharp fshhh! Ivy’s glowing white eyes snapped wide with terror. Her riddles, her stillness—all gone in an instant.

She gasped, clutched her cards, and whimpered in a perfectly normal, panicked voice:

“O-Oh my god—oh no, not again! What did I do this time?!”

She backed away from the table, her movements jittery and frantic.

Before Elian could react,

a massive black hand, smoky and clawed, burst through the curtain behind her with a whoosh, like a gust of wind and shadow.

Elian stumbled back.

The hand grabbed Ivy by the waist.

“No no no—WAIT! Let me explain—!” she shrieked.

Then, in one swift motion,

the hand dragged her into the darkness,

tearing the curtain open with a deep, wet rrriiipppp.

A thick, choking silence.

Elian stood frozen.

Then he felt something tug his sleeve.

Milo stood beside him, giving a nervous grin.

He juggled two small colorful balls and said, “W-Whoa, that was... intense, huh? Don’t worry! She’s always getting dragged off like that. She’ll be fine!” His voice cracked slightly.

Zara appeared behind him, flipping her hair and giving a cool nod. “Caius doesn’t hurt anyone... Not unless they’re really hiding something.”

Elian didn’t answer. He dropped to a crouch, trying to calm his breathing.

That’s when a warm, rough tongue licked the side of his face.

“Aughh—” he flinched, but then laughed weakly. His lion—his strange, golden-eyed companion—nuzzled into him, tail swishing with quiet concern.

Elian patted the beast’s head, eyes still fixed on the ripped curtain Ivy had vanished through.

Who was that voice?

Why did Ivy break character?

And what was she so afraid of?

This game was getting darker than he ever imagined.

As the silence thickened like fog,

click click click

—slow, deliberate footsteps echoed across the wooden floor of the tent.

From behind the torn curtain,

he emerged.

The boy from Elian’s dreams.

Pale as snow.

Mid-length white hair brushing his shoulders like strands of silk.

His lips curled into a wide, almost unnatural smile.

And his eyes—solid black, like ink poured into crystal—glimmered with something unreadable.

Elian’s blood turned cold.

The boy’s smile never faltered as he stepped into the circle of candlelight,

his shadow stretching long behind him like a living thing.

He adjusted the cuff of his black coat slowly and said in a soft, lilting tone:

“Oh, Ivy…”

He turned toward the curtain Ivy had been dragged into,

and tilted his head with mock sympathy.

“What did I tell you?”

His voice dripped like honey and rust,

half-sweet, half-rotten.

He let out a soft chuckle.

“Riddles are fun... but lies?” He tsked, waving his finger.

Then, as if he only just remembered Elian was there,

his black eyes snapped toward him.

“Ah,” he purred, smile growing impossibly wider.

“Our little player. Curious, aren’t we?”

Elian instinctively stepped back, bumping into his lion.

The beast growled low in its throat, golden eyes locked on the pale stranger.

But the boy only laughed.

Not loud—no, it was quiet. Controlled. Sinister.

Like he knew everything.

To be continued

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***