Full Chapter – The Headmaster's Game
Location: Ashenwell Academy – The Headmaster's Hall. Late afternoon. The flame trees outside sway in silence. The siblings stand before the only man the Court dares not confront directly.
The Return of the Eccentric
The Headmaster's office was… bigger than last time.
Or maybe smaller.
It changed with his mood.
One minute it was filled with clocks ticking backward, and the next, it resembled a tea room from a lost kingdom in Velthar. Today, it looked like the inside of a pocket watch—floating gears turning lazily above their heads, glimmering with temporal light.
He stood behind his desk, seventy years old today, with long silver hair and an overcoat stitched with constellations. His fingers drummed the air, not the table.
Time bent around him. Literally.
"So…" he began, eyes closed, "you want to leave my academy to run headfirst into Thalum. One of the most unstable regions in Oruin. To make a body… for a girl who doesn't technically exist."
Sparks, flickering above Grim's shoulder, crossed her arms in the air.
"I exist in spirit, sarcasm, and style."
"Oh, I'm not questioning your existence," the Headmaster said, smiling without mirth. "I'm questioning the sanity of your entourage."
Hadi leaned in. "That's fair."
"Silence, chaos imp," he waved her off.
Grim stepped forward, steady. "We'll go, whether permission is granted or not. But we respect the academy. And we'd rather leave clean."
The Headmaster opened his eyes — two silver orbs spinning like miniature hourglasses.
"Clean, he says. After destroying the duel pit. After making half the Court nervous. After wearing the Ashen Crown mark like a challenge."
Tristan, behind Grim, cleared his throat.
"In fairness, the duel pit started it."
"You're all dangerous," the Headmaster muttered, pacing. "Young. Broken. Glorious. I should expel you all and put your names on a watchlist."
Sparks whispered to Grim, "He's monologuing. That's a good sign."
"Fine," the Headmaster said suddenly. "Go."
Everyone blinked.
"Seriously?" Hadi asked.
"Yes. But—" He raised a finger. "If you return late, I'm docking your tuition credits. Also… you'll owe me a favor."
"What kind of favor?" Max asked.
"The kind I won't tell you about until the world is ending."
"...Comforting," Ayesha muttered.
The Mission Begins
As they exited the tower, the wind picked up — hot and restless. Thalum awaited. Beneath its broken skies and ancient ruins was what they needed: a vessel. One built in the old ways.
Sparks drifted closer to Grim.
"You'll make it beautiful, right?"
"Majestic," he said. "Elven. Like royalty. Long red hair."
"So… a flaming goddess?"
"Fits the flame, doesn't it?"
She smiled faintly, her light still weak. "You better not mess this up."
"I never do."
"Lies."
Elsewhere – Shadows Move
From atop the western tower, Lys watched them depart.
She said nothing. Her golden eyes narrowed, her beastblood thrumming.
He's going into danger.
He accepted my gift.
I won't let anything take him from me.
She leapt from the tower without a sound, vanishing into the lower roads — tailing the siblings with a feral grace none of them noticed.
Not yet.
But she was coming.