noveldrama
Chapter 79: Is It Just My Imagination?
Chapter 79: Is It Just My Imagination?
Warlock Ch 79. Is It Just My Imagination?
The girl noticed his hesitation, her head tilting to the side as she studied him with a hint of concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but curious.
"Um… yeah, I'm fine," he managed, his voice coming out more strained than he'd intended. He tried to act normal, but every nerve in his body was on high alert, his instincts telling him to move, to get out of there as quickly as possible.
He took a step back, his mind racing. Logic told him that it was ridiculous to feel so uneasy just because of a dream, but something about this girl felt… off. There was a familiarity in her presence, an aura he couldn't shake. He didn't want to risk anything—not tonight, not when he was already exhausted and burdened with the books Cassius had given him.
Damian forced a polite nod, hoping to end the encounter quickly. "Sorry about that. You just, uh… startled me," he said, trying to sound casual. "I should really be going."
The girl's eyes lingered on him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she smiled again. "Of course. Take care," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of something—was it curiosity? Or was it understanding?
Without waiting for more, Damian turned on his heel and headed down the path, his pace brisk. He could feel her gaze on him as he walked away, but he didn't look back.
He made his way down the road, the evening sky slowly darkening. He tried to shake off the encounter. 'It was just a coincidence,' he told himself. 'A strange one, but a coincidence all the same.' But as much as he wanted to believe that, a part of him couldn't ignore the warning that had played out in his dreams. The resemblance, the familiarity in her voice—it was all too close for comfort.
Damian quickened his pace and mentally replayed every second of the encounter with the girl. Her face, the silver hair, the echo of her voice—all of it felt like an omen. He knew it was a paranoid thought, maybe even foolish, but considering the world he'd found himself in, he decided to trust his instincts. Better safe than sorry.
Despite the protection of his amulet, he was still a newly awakened warlock, and that meant he probably still had a target on his back. The girl could have easily followed him or, worse, left something—some charm or mark—on him without his noticing. He wasn't about to risk leading her, or anyone else for that matter, straight to where he stayed.
He made an abrupt turn, veering away from his route and heading toward the marketplace. The market was still bustling with people finishing up their evening errands. The chatter and movement provided enough of a crowd that, if he was being followed, it would be hard for anyone to stay on his trail without being noticed. He kept to the busier side of the market, moving slowly between stalls, pretending to glance at the various wares.
After a while, he began to relax, realizing he hadn't seen any sign of the girl. No silver hair, no familiar voice calling out from behind. Still… she could have planted something on him, or maybe even summoned a servant to track him. But as cautious as he was, the market was the best layer of protection he could muster for now.
Once he was confident she wasn't following him, he finally set his sights on home, cutting through the market's maze of stalls and making his way back toward his place. By the time he reached his door, the sky had faded into a deep navy, the first stars pricking through. He took a deep breath and pressed down on the handle, hoping it was unlocked. Fortunately, the door gave way.
Stepping across the threshold, he immediately felt a slight resistance, like a force pressing against him from all sides. The barrier activated as he passed through, surrounding him for a split second before fading. A warmth sensation washed over him, but he also felt something else—a strange, subtle sensation, like something had been plucked from him and pulled away, nullified as he crossed into the house's protective field.
He paused, his hand still on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at the quiet street behind him. Had there been something attached to him after all? He couldn't see anything, but the feeling lingered, as though something foreign and unseen had been following him and had been severed the moment he stepped inside.
'Is it just my imagination,' he wondered, 'or was there really something following me?'
If there had been something—or someone—tracking him, he needed to know. Whatever it was, he'd have to bring it up with Evelyn. She'd know what to make of it, or at least give him some advice on what to watch out for. Closing the door behind him, he placed the bag of books on the table, glancing around the quiet house, half-expecting to see her.
"Evelyn?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. He waited, listening for any sign of movement, but the house remained quiet. He huffed. If there was ever a time he could use her expertise, it was now. He'd already experienced enough strangeness for one evening, and this lingering suspicion wasn't something he wanted to face alone.
Moving through the house, he checked each room, calling her name again. It was strange for her to be absent like this since she didn't mention anything this morning.
Finally, accepting that she wasn't there, he let out a resigned sigh, heading back to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water to clear his head. He took a long drink, the coolness of the water grounding him. Setting the glass down, he glanced at the bag of books Cassius had given him.
"Guess it's just me tonight," he muttered to himself.
He took the bag upstairs and dropped it onto his desk with a heavy thud.