One Million Echoes — The Author’s Shadow
by @Caedis Realms
Morning light fell at an angle through the tall eastern windows of the lecture hall, golden and still a little slow from the early hour.
The room filled gradually with the muted hum of arriving students. Chair legs scraped over wood. Bags slid across desk edges. A few bursts of laughter rose, then disappeared beneath the high ceiling.
At the front, behind the broad oak podium, stood Hagen Heitz, known to most people in the room as Marcus Haitz, the fantasy author.
The sleeves of his dark shirt were rolled up just below his elbows. An open notebook lay in front of him, though he was not truly reading it. His fingers rested motionless on the page while his gaze moved slowly over the arriving faces.
Not searching. Not judging. More like a man measuring the temperature of a room before he spoke.
In the third row, slightly right of center, a small group had gathered. Kayla leaned her hip against the edge of a desk, arms loosely crossed, her head tilted as she listened to Ryan, or at least looked in his direction. Her glasses sat a little lower on her nose than usual. When she pushed them back up with an absent motion, her gaze flicked toward the entrance for half a second.
Not long. Just a quick, almost careless check. Then her attention returned to Ryan.
Ryan was talking. He stood wide-legged between the rows, his team hoodie loose over his shoulders, his voice a little louder than necessary. The half-full coffee cup in his hand moved with every gesture, and he looked comfortably satisfied with attention he never thought to question.
Mia was already seated, legs tucked beneath the bench, turning an unused pen between her fingers. She wore a soft oversized sweater, its sleeves half-covering her knuckles. She said nothing. But her green eyes moved between Kayla and Ryan, catching the tiny pause in Kayla’s movement that no one else seemed to notice. Then, very briefly, Mia’s gaze also slipped toward the entrance before lowering again.
The pen kept turning in her hand. Between Kayla’s angled posture, Ryan’s broad stance, and Mia’s quiet stillness, a loose triangle of attention had formed, subtle enough to deny, sharp enough to feel.
At the front, Hagen closed his notebook.
The sound was quiet, but clear enough to lower the murmuring conversations by one degree. He did not lift his head immediately. When he finally did, there was a calm, almost private smile at the corner of his mouth, not directed at anyone in particular, but more like an inward preparation for what was about to begin.
The lecture hall continued to hum around him, waiting, full of dynamics no one had spoken aloud yet.
Then the door opened.
All content is AI-generated and purely fictional.