-Alexia-
The wards shivered.
It wasn't a collapse or a break, but a disturbance so precise it felt deliberate—like the ripple of a pond before a stone pierces the surface. I felt it first in my bones, then in the nexus knot behind me, the pulse shifting its rhythm. The Silver Trap had been triggered.
I didn't flinch. I had been waiting for this.
Zeus rose at my side, hackles lifting, a low growl vibrating against my palm. His amber eyes fixed on the main gates, where the first shimmer of foreign magic peeled the air apart like a curtain.
They didn't come with an army. They didn't come with fanfare or noise. They came with precision.
The Council's seal unfolded above the gates, serpent and sun bound in obsidian light. Then came the decree, script scrawled across the sky in jagged silver lines:
By order of the High Council of the Fivefold Accord, provisional Oversight Authority is hereby vested in Kaelith Veyr. Immediate containment of Alexia Mae Carter is authorized. All magical bonds, wards, and implements fall under seizure. Resistance will be neutralized.
Containment. Seizure. Neutralization.
Cold words, wrapped in authority. But I heard the truth in them. They wanted to strip Whisperwind bare. They tried to shackle me and claim the power I'd found.
Not happening.
The air folded inward, and Kaelith Veyr stepped through.
Tall, cloaked in muted silver, their armor caught no light, every surface absorbing rather than reflecting. Each movement was deliberate, controlled, as though every gesture had been practiced and measured in advance. No insignia save the Council's seal clasped at their throat. No weapon I could see, though something in the way the air bent around them told me they didn't need one.
Their eyes swept the courtyard once, bypassing the hidden students in the shadows, skimming over Jasper's light, and locking instantly onto me.
"Alexia Mae Carter," Kaelith said. Their voice wasn't raised, yet it carried across every stone. Smooth. Final. "You will submit to containment under Council authority. Whisperwind will be surrendered. Compliance ensures safety. Resistance ensures binding."
I held their gaze, steady. "No."
The word rang against the stones like a strike on an iron bell.
Jasper moved closer, gold fire blooming at his shoulder. His light burned against Kaelith's silver like sunrise defying shadow.
"If you want her," he said, voice clear and sharp, "you'll have to go through me first."
The tension tightened around us, tangible, the courtyard air sharp in my lungs. Zeus pressed against my leg, a low growl curling up from deep in his chest. Even the flagstones seemed to hold their breath.
Kaelith didn't blink. Their pale eyes remained unreadable. "Then you will fall with her."
Before I could answer, another voice cut through the silence.
"Mighty words," the voice said—smooth as glass, sharp as a blade. "But empty ones, I'm afraid."
Morgan Shade stepped into the courtyard, her presence filling the space as though it had been waiting for her all along. Her long black coat whispered against the stone, violet runes stitched along its hem glowing faintly with each measured step.
The moment she entered, the courtyard shifted. Not the wards. Not the nexus. The school itself stirred.
Kaelith's head turned, though they didn't move toward her. "This is not your matter, Headmistress."
Morgan's mouth curved into a smile that was all edge. "On the contrary. Whisperwind is mine to guard. And the Council has no jurisdiction here. Not in these halls. Not in this courtyard. Not anywhere within these walls."
As she spoke, the stones beneath our feet gave a low, resonant shudder. The ivy climbing the courtyard arches tightened, twisting as if alive, its leaves bristling against the faint breeze. The lamps mounted along the walls flared to sudden life, though dawn had already broken—their flames no longer golden, but violet, echoing the light in Morgan's coat.
Whisperwind had heard her declaration. The school itself was answering.
Kaelith studied her without expression. "Whisperwind exists by the Council's leave."
Morgan's eyes gleamed, her smile razor-thin. "You overestimate yourselves. Whisperwind stood long before your Council scribbled its first decree. It owes you nothing. It will outlast you."
The stones beneath us thrummed again, deeper this time, the ivy curling tighter, the violet flames leaping higher as if in agreement. Whisperwind was awake, listening, and it was not afraid.
Jasper's glow sharpened, burning brighter, steady at my side. I felt the same fire in my chest, the same refusal to bend. Not to Kaelith. Not to anyone who thought they could decide my fate without asking me first.
Kaelith's hand lifted, slow and precise, and though no magic flared outward, I felt the pressure of it—like the weight of a blade hanging just above us.
Zeus's growl turned into a bark, sharp and warning. The ivy twisted tighter, the courtyard lamps flaring higher, violet fire licking at the morning air. The stones themselves pulsed faintly like a heartbeat, alive beneath my boots.
Kaelith's gaze flicked to the ivy, then to the flames. "Parlor tricks."
Morgan's laugh was soft, dangerous. "This place does not need parlor tricks to drive you out. Whisperwind knows her own. And you are not welcome here."
Silence stretched, heavy and brittle.
Kaelith lowered their hand, though not in surrender—more like recalculation. Their expression remained unreadable, but I saw it in the set of their shoulders, in the way their gaze lingered on me longer than on Morgan: they were testing. Measuring. Deciding whether to strike now, or wait.
I let the silence linger, then raised my chin. "If the Council thinks it can take Whisperwind, it'll learn the same lesson everyone else has. We don't break."
For the first time, Kaelith's eyes narrowed, just slightly. Not anger. Not surprise. Calculation.
This wasn't finished. Not here. Not yet.
And that was fine because neither was I.