The ringing of the bells hadn't yet faded when the silence in the classroom broke. Whispers swelled like a tide — fear, disbelief, awe.
"What was that?"
"Did he… cause that?"
"No way, the Spire hasn't reacted in years—"
Professor Alden slammed his wand against the desk, the sharp crack halting most of the noise. "Enough! Stay seated!" he barked, though his voice trembled slightly. His gaze flickered toward Rivan, who sat motionless amid the murmurs.
The faint golden hue that had wrapped around him moments ago was gone, but its echo lingered — a soft shimmer clinging to the air like fading starlight.
Rivan didn't move. His chest heaved softly as he stared at his hands. They looked normal. Too normal. Yet, beneath the skin, something pulsed — slow, deliberate, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
I almost lost control again.
The thought hit him cold. He clenched his fists. No... that wasn't just me. It reacted.
Across the room, Seren Valencrest sat utterly still, her chin resting on her palm, studying him. Not fear — curiosity. Her sharp blue eyes shimmered with the faintest glint of recognition, as if she'd seen that golden resonance before.
Professor Alden finally exhaled, his composure cracking. "Class dismissed. No one leaves the premises until further notice. And you—" his eyes locked on Rivan, "—you're coming with me."
Rivan's pulse spiked. Dozens of eyes followed him as he rose. He could feel the weight of their stares — admiration, fear, confusion — all pressing in on him. He didn't say a word as he followed Alden out.
The corridors buzzed with noise. Students whispered in clusters, voices echoing through marble halls.
"The Spire shook."
"They say it resonated with him."
"Impossible… unless—"
By the time they reached the central hall, two figures in dark academy cloaks were waiting — senior wardens. One of them stepped forward. "Professor Alden. Headmistress wants the student brought immediately."
Rivan's stomach dropped.
The walk to the Headmistress's chamber felt endless. Each step echoed against the old stone, and with every echo, he felt that strange rhythm deep within him respond — the same pulse from the battlefield in his memories, steady and ancient.
When the heavy doors finally opened, the air inside felt different — thicker, charged, laced with authority.
The Headmistress stood by the window, hands clasped behind her back, her long robes tracing faint symbols of light across the floor. Her voice was calm when she spoke, but the weight behind it made even Alden straighten.
"So," she said quietly, eyes never leaving the horizon where the Eastern Spire still faintly glowed. "You're the one who made the Spire tremble."
Rivan didn't answer. Words would only make things worse.
She turned at last, her eyes sharp — old, knowing. "Do you understand what you've just awakened, boy?"
Rivan swallowed hard. "...No."
Her gaze softened, just slightly. "Then pray you never have to."
Before he could respond, a sudden ripple of mana surged through the chamber — a faint hum of communication magic. One of the attendants burst through the door, pale and breathless. "H-Headmistress! The Magic Tower has sent an urgent message!"
The woman's expression darkened. "Read it."
The attendant hesitated, voice shaking. "They've… contacted the Council. A member is already en route to the Academy."
For a moment, the air itself seemed to still. Even the glowing runes in the chamber dimmed.
Silence fell like a blade. Even Professor Alden stiffened, his composure cracking for the first time. The word Council hung in the air, cold and heavy.
Rivan didn't understand why, but the moment he heard that name, his chest tightened. The faint rhythm beneath his skin surged — hostile, almost alive — like something inside him recognized the name and despised it.
The Headmistress's gaze snapped toward him instantly. "Control it," she said sharply, her tone calm but edged with danger. The glow of her mana flared, suppressing the golden shimmer rising from Rivan's aura.
He exhaled through gritted teeth, forcing the strange anger down. The air around him settled, though faint sparks still danced in the corners of the room.
The Headmistress studied him for a long moment before speaking again, voice low and cold.
"Whatever happens next, keep your emotions in check, boy. If you lose control again… no one will notice if you disappear by morning."
Rivan froze, unable to tell whether it was a threat — or a warning.
"Pray," she said softly, "that they come here only to talk."
The candle flames wavered, as if the room itself had taken a breath. Outside, thunder rolled faintly — not from the skies, but somewhere deep beneath the Academy's foundations.
—