Lyra had expected solitude.
After her first week in Class Obsidian — the cracked vial, the silent stares, the emotional dissection — she assumed her dorm would be a reflection of that isolation. Cold. Quiet. Empty.
She was wrong.
Her dormitory was suspended above a koi pond that whispered in riddles. The structure itself was a cube of glass and velvet, floating gently, tethered by invisible threads. Inside, the walls shifted color depending on mood. Her bed was made of clouds. Her closet rearranged itself nightly.
And someone else was already unpacked.
The Roommate
She stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the koi swirl below. Her uniform was pale gold — not Obsidian. Aureum.
Lyra hesitated. "Hi."
The girl turned. Her eyes were sharp, but not unkind. "You're the new one."
Lyra nodded. "Lyra Vex."
"Maris Wynn," she said. "Class Aureum. Empathy and persuasion. Don't worry — I don't bite."
Lyra smiled faintly. "I wasn't worried."
Maris raised an eyebrow. "You should be."
The Room
The dorm was split down the middle — not physically, but emotionally. Lyra's side was stormy gray, cool and minimal. Maris's side was warm gold, cluttered with books, candles, and a mirror that hummed softly.
Between them was a shared table that rearranged itself depending on their moods. Tonight, it was shaped like a crescent moon.
Maris lit a candle. "This place is weird."
Lyra sat on her bed. "You say that like you weren't expecting it."
"I was. But knowing something's strange doesn't make it less strange."
First Night
They didn't speak much at first. Lyra unpacked slowly, unsure what was hers and what had been planted. Her journal was missing. Her shoes were damp. Her pillow whispered her name when she closed her eyes.
Maris read a book titled Emotional Cartography. She didn't turn the pages — they turned themselves.
Eventually, Lyra asked, "Why are we roommates? We're in different classes."
Maris shrugged. "Obsidian and Aureum are opposites. Maybe they want us to balance each other."
Lyra frowned. "Or test each other."
Maris smiled. "Same thing."
Morning Routine
The dorm woke before they did.
The walls brightened. The koi pond sang. Their uniforms floated out of the closet and laid themselves on the beds.
Maris stretched. "You snore."
Lyra blinked. "I don't."
"You do. But it's polite. Like a sigh."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Thanks."
They dressed in silence. The mirror on Maris's side whispered compliments. Lyra's mirror stayed blank.
Shared Secrets
Over the next few days, they settled into a rhythm.
Maris talked — about classes, teachers, the strange rituals of Aureum. Lyra listened. She didn't trust easily, but Maris didn't push. She asked questions without expecting answers.
One night, Lyra found Maris crying silently. Her mirror had shown her something — a memory, maybe. Lyra didn't ask. She just sat beside her.
Maris whispered, "Do you ever feel like this place knows too much?"
Lyra nodded. "All the time."
The Tension
Not everything was easy.
Lyra's Obsidian instincts clashed with Maris's Aureum empathy. Lyra preferred silence. Maris preferred connection. Lyra dissected emotions. Maris nurtured them.
They argued once — about a shared assignment. Lyra wanted precision. Maris wanted nuance.
"You don't have to control everything," Maris snapped.
"And you don't have to feel everything," Lyra replied.
The table between them cracked.
They didn't speak for a day.
Then Maris left a note on Lyra's pillow: "I'm sorry. You're not wrong. You're just stitched differently."
Lyra folded the note and kept it.
The Mystery
One night, the koi pond turned black.
The dorm trembled. The walls whispered in a language neither of them understood. Maris clutched Lyra's hand.
A door appeared beneath the floor — just for a moment. Then it vanished.
Maris whispered, "Did you see that?"
Lyra nodded. "I think it was calling me."
Maris didn't let go.
They weren't supposed to be roommates.
But maybe Evershade knew something they didn't.
Maybe opposites weren't meant to balance.
Maybe they were meant to break something open.