The Rotunda divided itself without raising a single wall.
As ROUND I — THRESHOLD faded above the students' Role Seals, four silver lines spread from the extinguished brazier and crossed the polished floor toward separate quarters of the Salon. The older inscriptions beneath the stone answered in restrained pulses, while newer Academy formations unfolded between them with such smooth precision that one age of magic seemed to pass directly into the next.
Curtains withdrew into hidden recesses. Reception tables glided across the floor. Chairs rotated toward newly established centers of attention, and servants who had spent much of the evening disappearing into the architecture began moving with coordinated purpose.
Within scarcely a minute, the circular Salon contained four receptions.
