CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE RESONANT TRIAL (Part one)
The arena wasn't announced.
It revealed itself.
At dawn, the Lyceum's lower ring shuddered—
once—
and the spiral gates beneath the east tower began to open.
Stone slid against stone,
veins of glyphlight flaring in the walls as the floor descended,
revealing a circular pit carved into ancient ground.
Not built by instructors.
Not drawn by students.
This place was older.
A hollow ring of memory, layered with faded symbols and scorched dust.
It hummed as they approached—
not like it was welcoming them,
but watching.
Squads filed in.
Some with confidence.
Some with panic.
All with pulse-marks burning beneath their sleeves.
Kaelen, Yolti, Selka, and Zephryn stood together at the edge.
Bubbalor wasn't allowed inside.
It waited above—silent, unmoving.
Its hum wasn't absent.
Just held.
Below, the center glyph flared to life.
A spiral.
Sharp.
Unmistakable.
The same pattern as the one in the dorm.
The one in Kaelen's father's notes.
The one at the Trial Gate.
Now it burned at the center of the battlefield.
Waiting.