The Spire of Silence wasn't on any of the academy's maps.
It stood behind the western dormitories, carved from stone darker than night. No bells ever rang from it. No torches burned near it. Most students pretended it didn't exist.
Rynna wasn't most students.
She slipped out after curfew, the moonlight spilling across the courtyard in long, pale streaks. Eren had tried to stop her, of course — he always did.
"You're going to get expelled one day," he had whispered.
"Then I'll finally be free," she'd replied with a grin.
Now, alone in the fog, her grin was gone. The silence around the Spire wasn't natural. It pressed on her ears, heavy and watchful, as if the stone itself was listening.
She reached the archway at its base. The door was half open, and faint light pulsed inside — not torchlight, but something red and alive.
Her pulse quickened. "Someone's here."
She stepped through.
The air inside was thick and warm, carrying the scent of iron and ash. The walls glowed faintly with veins of molten red. Each pulse matched her heartbeat.
At the center of the chamber stood a figure.
He was tall, hooded, his clothes dark and singed at the sleeves. His hands trembled faintly, though his stance was steady.
Kael.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps, eyes catching the faint light. They weren't normal eyes — a faint ember burned deep inside them, like a reflection of the flame itself.
"Who are you?" Rynna asked before she could stop herself.
Kael's voice was quiet, rough. "No one you should've found."
"Too late," she said, taking a cautious step closer. "Are you the one they carried through the courtyard?"
He tensed. "You saw that?"
"I see a lot of things I'm not supposed to."
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He studied her face, as if trying to place a memory that didn't exist. "You shouldn't be here. The fire— it reacts to people."
She tilted her head. "What kind of fire?"
"The one that dreams."
For a moment, Rynna just stared. "You sound like one of the old preachers."
Kael managed a faint smile. "Maybe I am."
Something shifted above them — a sound like stone breathing. Rynna glanced up and caught sight of a faint shimmer spreading through the air, the same glowing patterns she'd drawn in her notebook.
She froze. "I've seen those symbols before."
"Where?"
"In a book I wasn't supposed to open."
Kael stepped closer. "Then you've seen the truth. The fire isn't divine. It's alive."
Before she could respond, a voice echoed through the chamber: calm, sharp, familiar.
"I warned you not to come here."
Rynna spun. Seraphine stepped out of the shadows, her robes trailing like smoke. The crystal vial she'd shown Kael before glowed faintly in her hand.
"Another student?" she said, her eyes narrowing. "This place is not for the curious."
"She's not like the others," Kael said quickly. "She can see the markings."
Seraphine's expression changed — curiosity, maybe even surprise. "Can she now?"
Rynna squared her shoulders. "I don't know what you're doing here, but whatever it is, it's not part of the academy's teachings."
"No," Seraphine said softly. "It's older."
She set the vial down on the floor. The fire inside it pulsed once, then spread — not burning, but drawing itself into a perfect circle that enclosed them all.
Kael felt the mark on his chest stir. Rynna gasped as the floor beneath her feet began to hum.
"What's happening?"
"The fire remembers," Seraphine said. "It's showing you what your kind forgot."
The circle flared, and the walls melted into light.
For a heartbeat, the three of them stood inside a vast sky of flame and crystal. Figures moved within it — giants of light, their faces hidden behind burning veils. One looked down at Kael and spoke without sound.
Rynna heard it in her mind:
Reforge the convening.
The vision shattered. The chamber returned, cold and silent again.
Rynna staggered, clutching her chest. "What— what was that?"
"The past," Seraphine said. "And the warning that comes with it."
Kael turned to her, voice low. "You said the fire was waking."
"Yes. And now it's looking for those who can still hear its song."
Her gaze flicked between them — the marked boy and the girl who saw patterns no one else could.
"Looks like it's already found two."