The summons came at dawn.
Every tamer—student, instructor, and council retainer—was ordered to gather in the Sanctum of Oaths, the oldest hall of the Academy. The air there had always been heavy with ceremony, lined with portraits of the founders and their spirits. Today, though, it smelled of iron and ash.
Lyn stood among the crowd, cloak pulled low, the mark of the Unbound hidden beneath his sleeve. Around him, whispers spread like wildfire.
"They're sealing new contracts.""Anyone refusing gets stripped of their crest.""Stripped—or erased."
He didn't need Umbra to feel the fear crawling through the air.
At the head of the hall, seven glowing circles flickered to life—the Council's projection array. The Arbiter's voice filled the room, calm and absolute.
"The rebellion has fractured our foundation. For the safety of all, each tamer must reaffirm their Oath of Loyalty to the Council of Crests. Those who refuse shall be deemed forfeit."
A murmur ran through the assembly. The Oath wasn't just symbolic—it was a seal, one that allowed the Council to trace and suppress any mana signature they chose. Whoever accepted it became theirs again.
Umbra stirred within Lyn, a dark pulse in his chest. —They mean to cage you all.
He answered silently, Not if I burn the cage first.
The Arbiter gestured, and attendants moved down the aisles carrying silver scripts. Each tamer pressed a hand to the parchment, their crest glowing faintly as they pledged obedience.
One by one, they bent their heads.
When it came to Lyn's turn, the scribe hesitated, recognizing his face. "You—you're supposed to be under arrest."
"I was," Lyn said quietly. "Then I escaped."
Gasps rippled through those nearby, and before the scribe could shout for help, Lyn's crest flared—dark violet and alive with Umbra's flame. The oath-scroll in the man's hands turned to smoke.
The Arbiter's projection blinked. "Lyn of Division Seven."
Lyn stepped forward into the light, every eye turning toward him. "You call this loyalty? You bind spirits like slaves and call it order. You burn anyone who remembers what freedom feels like."
The Arbiter's tone didn't waver. "You mistake freedom for chaos. Without control, there is no harmony."
"Without choice," Lyn shot back, "there is no life."
A ripple of power rolled through the hall as his words fell. Umbra materialized beside him—half-shadow, half flame—its form towering against the Council's illusions. Gasps turned to screams as students stumbled back.
—They fear what they cannot chain, Umbra murmured.
The Arbiter raised his staff. "Then you are no longer a tamer of the Academy."
White light erupted from the circle—binding seals designed to erase a crest's link to its spirit. Lyn felt them strike like spears of frost. Umbra roared, shielding him, shadow clashing with the Council's radiance in a storm of sparks.
All around, tamers knelt in confusion and terror as mana fields tore the hall apart.
"Umbra—break it!"
The spirit's voice thundered through every mind present. —Oath denied.
The seals shattered. Columns cracked. The floor split open beneath the altar, revealing ancient runes buried beneath centuries of false devotion.
Arden's voice echoed from the balcony, where several Unbound members had already taken positions. "You heard him! Shields up—move!"
The rebellion had come to the Academy's heart.
Students rose from the crowd, their hidden crests flaring one by one—amber, blue, crimson—revealing how many had already joined Lyn's cause in secret. The Arbiter's face twisted in shock as the air filled with spiraling mana and awakening spirits.
"You brought this ruin upon yourselves," Lyn said, stepping into the storm. "You swore oaths to chains. We swear ours to freedom."
The chamber blazed with light as Lyn raised his hand, summoning Umbra's power through his crest. The shadows of a hundred spirits rose behind him, joining in one collective roar that shattered the last remnants of the old order's illusion.
The Oath Sigil burst, collapsing into raw mana.
When the light finally dimmed, the banners of the Academy had fallen, their sigils scorched.
Lyn stood at the center, breathing hard, cloak torn and crest burning like a wound. Around him, those who had refused the oath knelt in silence—then slowly, they bowed their heads to him instead.
Umbra's gaze met his. —You've broken their vow, but at a cost.
Lyn looked around the ruined hall. "Then I'll carry it. Until every crest is free."
Outside, the storm had reached its peak—lightning forking across the skies above the mountain.
The first true battle of the rebellion had begun.