Two nights before the Games…
Miles stood in the shadow of the withered statue in the Spire's old courtyard, the moonlight streaking through the cracks in the columns. Valen emerged from the darkness, his hood pulled low and his arms crossed. Neither spoke—until the flicker of an unseen light marked the arrival of the third.
Saren stepped from the shadow behind the statue like he had been carved into it all along.
"Well?" he said, his voice low and sharp.
"She's progressing fast," Miles said calmly. "Smarter than expected. They all trust her now. Especially Ion."
Valen nodded. "But she's still a child. And children still break."
Saren's mouth twitched—neither a smile nor a frown. "Let's not underestimate her. Not after what happened at the Cradle. Our last informant did."
There was a moment of silence, heavy with the unspoken.
"She will be in the tournament?" Saren asked.
Miles nodded. "Yes. She's confirmed. The girl and that friend, Nico."
"Good," Saren replied. "Then everything is moving as planned. On the day of the Games… the Gate will tremble."
Valen stiffened. "Do we move then?"
Saren shook his head. "Not all of us. That would be premature. The Games will distract them. The nobles will be watching. The sages will be celebrating. That is when the world forgets to guard its heart."
He turned away. "Let her shine. Let her win, if fate allows. But make sure when the blow comes… she feels it."
And with a shimmer of wind and silence, he was gone.
---
Two days later…
The skies above the Obsidian Spire were clear, the air humming with energy. Great banners of house crests and guild sigils fluttered from the towers, casting flickers of red, gold, and deep violet across the stone pathways.
Nobles arrived in gliders shaped like soaring birds, sages floated in on discs of magnetized light, and scientists from the distant cities came in caravans of glinting glass. The Spire had not seen such a gathering in decades.
Luma stood in her formal tunic at the gates of the grand Coliseum, her eyes wide. The structure was a marvel—a massive arena of curved obsidian and bronze, with open sky above and an intricate domed energy field sparking gently like stars above it.
Crowds swelled in the viewing decks. Somewhere in the distance, horns blared, signaling the formal procession of the contestants.
Nico elbowed her gently. "This is it."
Luma exhaled slowly. "This is it."
From high above, Elder Ion stood beside the Grandmaster and other Tower leaders. He watched his student walk out into the light of a roaring crowd.
He hoped she was ready.
---