The Mathematics chamber felt colder than the corridor outside, its vaulted ceiling etched with equations that shimmered faintly like constellations. Desks were arranged in neat arcs, and a wide floating slate hovered at the front, chalk scrawling symbols across its surface of its own accord.
Professor Gavel stood beneath it — tall, gaunt, with chalk dust clinging stubbornly to his robes. His voice carried the weight of precision.
"Mathematics is not ink on parchment," he began, his tone sharp, eyes sweeping the class. "It is the spine of existence. Every spell, every blade, every motion of the stars bends to its law. Those who fail to grasp it stumble blind in a world that will not forgive blindness."
A hush fell. Quills hovered above parchment.
He snapped a piece of chalk from the air and turned to the hovering slate. With a flick, an equation blazed into existence: 2 + 2 = ?
A ripple of laughter ran through the rows, but Gavel's eyes narrowed.
"Do not mock. This question has felled more warriors than you imagine. The answer, children, is not four. It is balance. Symmetry. Two forces met by two others. The whole is greater than the sum. This—" he jabbed the chalk toward the glowing numbers, "—is the first spell you ever spoke as infants, though you knew it not."
Jordan shifted uneasily, his quill scratching the numbers down without conviction. His thoughts wanted to drift back to the dream, but the professor's voice pinned him in place.
Gavel turned, eyes landing on Kaitlyn.
"Miss Kaitlyn. Tell me — if two flames meet two shadows, what remains?"
Kaitlyn rose, her voice steady, precise.
"Neither cancels the other. Instead, they reshape the whole. A flickering equilibrium, unstable but complete."
A thin smile tugged at Gavel's lips.
"Correct. Already you grasp what many will take years to see. Flame and shadow are not enemies — they are numbers, resolving their sum."
He turned then, his gaze sweeping, settling on Jordan.
"And you, Mr. Walker. Tell me — if one star collapses into another, what becomes of them?"
Jordan froze. His throat tightened. Around him, a few students shifted, whispering. His mind screamed for the right words, but all he saw was Jayden's burning throne, the serpents of fire.
He forced the words out.
"They… merge? One swallows the other?"
Gavel's eyes gleamed.
"Yes. One devours, and yet, the result is neither star. It is something greater. Something terrible. A black hole. Mathematics does not lie. It does not soften its lessons. Remember that."
The room went still again. Jordan lowered his gaze, heat creeping into his face, but Kaitlyn glanced his way, offering the faintest nod — a quiet encouragement.
Professor Gavel let the chalk drop. It floated back to the slate, equations rearranging themselves like constellations shifting in the sky.
"You will come to see, in time, that mathematics is not about numbers. It is about truth. And truth is rarely gentle."
The words rang in Jordan's ears long after the class moved on.