There was still time before the sixth-bell faculty tribunal.
I left the lecture hall early, slipping into the quieter corridors that led toward the central atrium. The air grew colder with each step.
The marble wall that bore the mysterious glyph was now cordoned off by enchanted barriers—thin silver threads humming with containment magic. A faint residue still glowed where the carving had once shimmered.
I reached out. Not touching—just close enough.
The glyph pulsed.
It shouldn't have.
My breath caught. Magic responded to will, intent, memory. And this one remembered me.
A flash erupted from the wall. Heat, sound, pressure. A rune-circle sprang to life beneath my feet, glowing with fire-red sigils.
I jumped back—too late. The magic dragged me inward.
Not physically, but mentally—images, sensations, fragments.
A room aflame. A stone burning from within. A scream cut off mid-word. Chains. Blue cloaks. A tribunal. Silence.
My knees hit the floor. Blood roared in my ears.
Then, like a snapped thread, the vision ended. The marble returned to normal. The glyph faded.
Serena's voice echoed from down the hall. "Elira! What happened?"
I blinked. "It reacted. To me."
She knelt beside me, eyes narrowing. "You're bleeding."
I touched my nose. Blood.
"This wasn't just a memory trigger," I whispered. "It was a magical echo. Deliberate. Planted."
"By who?"
I looked at the spot where the glyph had been. "Someone who wants the truth to burn its way out."