The bells would not stop.
They thundered through the stone halls, reverberating like the heartbeat of a living beast. Each toll sent a tremor down the spines of the students gathering in hushed clusters, eyes wide, whispers frantic. Alarms were rare at the Academy — and when they sounded, it was never for drills.
Anaya felt the sound thrumming inside her, resonating with the ember buried beneath her skin. It pulsed with every chime, as if answering the summons itself.
"They know," Kato said again, pacing their dormitory floor like a caged animal. "They know someone broke the Seal."
"They know someone tried," Rafael corrected. His usual grin was gone, replaced by tight calculation. "They don't know who."
Leila's voice was a whisper. "Are we sure?"
The answer came before Anaya could speak.
A fist hammered against their door. "Anaya Sol," a voice intoned — cold, official, unmistakable. "By order of Headmistress Veyra, you are summoned to the Grand Hall. Immediately."
The hall was silent when she arrived.
Hundreds of eyes followed her steps as she crossed the floor. Students lined the benches in rigid rows, Seers flanking the chamber like statues carved from night. At the far end, on her dais of polished obsidian, Headmistress Veyra stood waiting.
Her porcelain mask was gone. For the first time, Anaya saw her uncovered face — lined and sharp, carved by years of knowledge and grief. Her silver hair coiled like frost around her shoulders. And her eyes… her eyes burned with something colder than fury.
"Anaya Sol," she said. "Step forward."
Anaya obeyed, heart hammering. The ember in her palm pulsed once, twice, as though warning her to tread carefully.
Veyra studied her in silence for a long moment. Then she raised her staff, and the floor between them shimmered.
The image that appeared stole Anaya's breath: the catacombs, the runes, the Seal of Embers flaring open. Five figures standing before it, their faces obscured — but one, in the center, with her hand pressed to the wall.
Her hand.
"Do you deny this?" Veyra asked.
Anaya swallowed. "I… I do not."
A murmur rippled through the students. Mira's smirk flashed like a blade from the benches.
Veyra's voice sharpened. "You breached a forbidden ward sealed for three centuries. You awoke something the Academy buried for the safety of all. Do you understand the gravity of what you've done?"
Anaya lifted her chin, though her knees threatened to buckle. "I understand that the Academy buried the truth with it."
Gasps. A hiss of breath from somewhere behind her. But Veyra's expression didn't change.
"The truth," Veyra said slowly, "is that the Seal holds the memory of those who defied the weave — those who believed they could rewrite destiny and nearly tore the fabric of the world apart."
Her gaze bored into Anaya. "Their rebellion killed thousands. They burned half this Academy to ash. And still the weave held — because it must hold. It is the only thing standing between order and ruin."
Anaya's voice was barely a whisper. "And what if the weave is the ruin?"
The hall fell deathly silent.
Veyra's hand tightened around her staff. "Do you understand what you are suggesting?"
"Yes." Anaya stepped forward. Her hands trembled, but she did not look away. "I'm suggesting that glimpses are not law. That destiny isn't a cage. That those who were erased… they weren't monsters. They were possibilities. And you silenced them because you were afraid."
Something flickered in Veyra's expression — not anger, but sorrow. "You speak as if you were the first to think such things."
"I know I'm not." Anaya's voice broke, the ember's pulse quickening beneath her skin. "Kaelen Deyr thought them too."
The name hung in the air like a curse. Students shifted, confused murmurs rippling. The Seers stiffened. And Veyra… Veyra closed her eyes, as if in pain.
"So you found the journal," she murmured. "Of course you did."
The storm broke then.
Veyra raised her staff, and the chamber darkened. Threads of light coiled around Anaya, pinning her in place. The ember in her palm flared, resisting the pull.
"You toy with powers you do not understand," Veyra said, voice rising like thunder. "The ashes you carry are not memory — they are hunger. They devour. They consume. And they would burn this Academy to the ground again if given the chance."
Anaya gasped as the threads constricted, pressing against her chest. "Then why bury them here? Why not destroy them?"
"Because," Veyra whispered, stepping closer, "destruction is not the same as forgetting. And some things must be remembered, no matter how terrible."
The ember pulsed again, harder, straining against the binds.
"Release me," Anaya said.
"I cannot."
"Then I will make you."
The chamber erupted.
Light exploded from her palm, threads snapping like brittle glass. A wave of resonance tore through the hall, throwing Seers backward, shattering lanterns, cracking the obsidian floor. Students screamed as glimpses flickered above their heads, bending and twisting.
When the storm subsided, Anaya stood panting at the center, eyes burning with ember-light. The binds lay broken at her feet.
Veyra had not moved. Her staff glowed faintly, absorbing the brunt of the blast. But for the first time, her calm façade was gone.
"You are dangerous," she whispered. "Just like he was."
"Kaelen?" Anaya breathed.
"No," Veyra said softly. "My brother."
The hall erupted in chaos.
The revelation struck like lightning. Voices rose, questions screamed, but Veyra raised her staff and silence slammed down.
"My brother believed as you do," she said, eyes locked on Anaya. "He believed the weave could be rewritten. He broke the Seal once before. And when he did, the ashes consumed him — and everything he loved. I buried him beneath this Academy to keep the world safe."
Tears burned in Anaya's eyes. "Then why let me stay? Why train me?"
"Because I hoped," Veyra whispered, "that you might be different. That you might learn control before the ashes consumed you too."
The ember pulsed beneath Anaya's skin. We wait for you, the voices had said. Carry us.
Maybe they had waited before. Maybe they had consumed before. But she was not Kaelen. And she was not Veyra's brother.
"I won't let them consume me," she said, voice trembling but firm. "I will master them. And I will free the weave from this cage."
Veyra's eyes hardened again. "Then I cannot let you walk free."
She lifted her staff. The Seers advanced, chanting in unison, threads of blinding light coalescing into chains.
Anaya turned, heart pounding. Rafael was already running toward her. Leila shouted her name. Kato drew his blade.
The Hunt was no longer shadows and whispers.
It had become war.
They fought their way out of the Grand Hall in a blur of light and steel. Seers unleashed resonance storms, walls twisted into cages, students scattered screaming. Anaya flung the ember's power outward, bending glimpses around them into illusions, shattering binds with pulses of raw force.
By the time they reached the outer doors, alarms screamed again. The Academy was awake now — fully awake — and it would not rest until they were caught.
Rafael skidded to a stop beside her, breath ragged. "Where do we go?"
Anaya stared up at the towers, at the spires that had loomed over her since the day she arrived.
"Down," she said. "To the catacombs. To the ashes. If they want to cage us, we'll show them what's been buried beneath their feet."
The ember pulsed once, as if in agreement.
And together, they vanished into the depths.