Part 3:The Grand Hall
The Grand Hall of Highwind was nothing like Kael had imagined.
It wasn't golden or polished. It wasn't a marble cathedral of light.
It was old. Ancient. Cracked in places. The vaulted ceiling rose like a ribcage of black stone above a floor made of volcanic glass, and hanging from the ceiling were slow-turning chandeliers with thousands of tiny blue flames. They floated in silence, suspended in some invisible weave of magic.
Kael stood at the back with the other House Umbra initiates, still adjusting to the stiff collar of his ceremonial robe. His shoes were too tight. His heart was tighter.
There were dozens of students in the hall, arranged in five sections, each one marked by a different symbol projected into the air overhead: a sword, a serpent, a wing, a mask, and over Kael's own group, the silver half-moon of House Umbra.
Kael recognized some of the other students from earlier—the rich boy with the sharp tongue (his name, Kael had learned, was Darian Velmire), the girl with the phoenix, and even Lira, who stood a few feet away with her arms crossed like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Then the fires dimmed.
A hush rippled across the chamber.
From behind the dais at the front of the hall, a figure emerged. No footsteps. No rustle of robes. Just presence, like a mountain slowly deciding to exist.
The man was tall, skin weathered like bark, with long white hair braided into cords wrapped in iron rings. His eyes glowed faintly—like lightning frozen behind glass.
This was Archmage Maerin Duskvale, Headmaster of Highwind.
He raised a single hand, and the entire hall stilled.
"You stand," he said, "at the threshold between ignorance and flame."
His voice was deep. Not loud, yet it echoed through every bone.
"You have been chosen—or thrust—into this place, where power is truth, and truth is never kind. Some of you bear names heavy with history. Others… come from ash."
Kael felt those words settle on him.
Maerin's eyes swept across the hall.
"You are not equal. You are not protected. You are not safe."
He paused.
"But you are here. And that means you have been seen."
He stepped forward slowly. "This year, the Gates burn brighter than they have in a century. The last time they stirred this fiercely… an empire fell. What wakes now in the deep is no accident. It is pulling, and one of you may become the hand it uses to tear the Veil."
Kael couldn't breathe.
"Most of you will fail," the Headmaster finished. "A few of you may die. That is the price of truth. Begin tomorrow with eyes open and names remembered."
He turned and vanished in a ripple of darkness.
The chandeliers brightened. Whispers spread like wildfire.
Kael remained still. He felt scorched, like the Archmage had carved into his soul just by looking in his direction.
"Cheerful, isn't he?" Lira said dryly beside him.
Kael jumped. "He… he's the Headmaster?"
"Obviously," she said. "Duskvale. One of the last Bloodbound Menders. Fought in the Rift War. Supposedly died twice."
Kael blinked. "He died?"
"Don't know. That's the rumor." Lira smirked faintly. "They say he stitched his heart back together using time."
Kael wasn't sure if she was joking. Here, in Highwind, anything seemed possible.
Later, as the students were dismissed, a robed attendant handed Kael a folded parchment.
He opened it carefully. It was a schedule.
Tomorrow: Foundational Spellweaving, Arcane Theory, and Elemental Affinity Testing.
Location: South Tower. Instructor: Vaelyn Oross.
He recognized her name. The flame-eyed woman who had sent him to House Umbra.
Kael swallowed hard. The training was about to begin.
No more luck. No more glowing orbs.
Now came the hard part.
But before he left, something strange happened.
As he walked toward the main archway, the glass beneath his feet suddenly shimmered. A reflection caught his eye—not his own, but something behind him.
He turned, but no one was there.
The glass still rippled faintly, as if something had watched him.
Then—just for a moment—he felt the warmth again. That same coiled fire behind his ribs, but sharper. Hungrier. Like something deep below the school had stirred at his presence.
It knows me.
Kael didn't know where that thought came from, but it stuck in his mind like a splinter.
Outside, night had fallen fully over Highwind. The towers shimmered against the stars. Lanterns drifted like fireflies along the walkways, casting soft light on the cobbled paths.
Kael made his way back to Dorm Nine, eyes on the sky.
For the first time in years, he wasn't alone. But he also wasn't safe.
Something had awakened in the academy.
And it had noticed him.
To be Continued...