The courtyard did not return to its usual noise after Wong stepped off the circle.
Instead, a strange tension hung in the air — like the stillness before a storm.
He could feel eyes on him.
Not the casual glances people gave after an average awakening…
These were sharp, calculating, and filled with unease.
Nill, ever the loud one, tried to break it.
"Did you see that? Black flames! That was epic—"
"Epic?" someone from the crowd scoffed. "You know what necromancers do, right?"
A few others began muttering.
"They raise the dead."
"Curse entire cities."
"I heard one wiped out an entire army overnight."
Wong ignored them, but each word lodged itself in the air like thorns.
---
At the edge of the courtyard, the Diviner and Principal Shiv Jha were speaking in hushed tones.
The Diviner's hand gestured subtly toward Wong, his expression grave.
Shiv's reply was low, controlled — but Wong caught fragments.
"…never seen… since the Drak'Nir records…"
"…too dangerous… keep an eye on him…"
---
The rest of the ceremony continued, but the mood had shifted.
No one stood too close to Wong.
Even when Nill tried to joke, it fell flat.
When the last student's awakening ended, the crowd dispersed quickly, leaving the courtyard half-empty.
Wong was about to follow Nill out when a shadow fell over him.
It was a tall man in a dark blue uniform — one of the Academy's internal guards.
"Wong Lee," the man said curtly. "The principal wants to see you. Now."
Nill started to protest. "Hey, I'll come too—"
"Alone," the guard cut in.
Wong gave Nill a slight nod.
"I'll be fine," he murmured, though part of him wasn't sure.
---
As he followed the guard through the quiet corridors of Blackspire Academy, Wong noticed something.
Every few turns, another guard fell in behind them.
By the time they reached the principal's office, there were four of them.
The guard at the door knocked once.
"Sir. He's here."
"Send him in," came the principal's voice — calm, but heavy.
The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit room. Heavy curtains blocked the morning sun, and the faint smell of burnt parchment clung to the air.
Principal Shiv Jha sat behind his massive oak desk.
But unlike his usual commanding presence, his expression was grim.
"Sit," he said.
Wong complied, though he kept his guard up.
---