CHAPTER 32 — The Spire Hall Summons
The walk to the Spire felt longer than the entire journey from the caravan.
Not physically—physically it was ten minutes, maybe less, across polished stone paths and rune-lit stairs—but the air was heavier. The kind of heavy that meant people knew something had happened and were trying very hard to pretend otherwise.
The kind of heavy that meant Aiden was being watched again.
Willow Hall students poked their heads out of windows as they passed. Upper-years leaned casually over balcony railings, pretending to stretch or drink tea but very obviously tracking every step Unit Willow-3B made.
No one said anything.
But whispers followed them like a breeze:
"…that's really them—" "…Headmistress wants them already?" "…the storm-child—" "…Runa looks like she'll hit someone if they breathe wrong—"
Runa did look like that. Hammer strapped across her back, chin angled forward, shoulders squared. Every step was a promise of violence if necessary.
Myra walked fast on Aiden's left, hands fidgeting—adjusting her cloak, adjusting it again, then adjusting it wrong, then swearing about it under her breath.
Nellie stayed close on Aiden's right, clutching her satchel like an anchor, curls bouncing nervously with each small step.
The lightning pup trotted beside Aiden, sparks flickering in a faint, irritated rhythm. Its little tail was stiff—every now and then it glanced behind them as if checking for something following.
"Aiden," Myra whispered. "If this is about the Gate—"
"It is," he said quietly.
She grimaced. "I hate being right."
"You love being right," Runa corrected without looking.
"Okay, I hate being right about scary things," Myra said.
Nellie squeaked softly. "Wh-what do you think the Headmistress wants?"
Aiden didn't answer immediately.
The truth curled cold under his ribs.
Elowen's eyes had changed in the Verdant Hall. Just for a moment—just long enough for him to realize:
She wasn't worried about the Academy. She wasn't worried about the students. She was worried about him.
And what had seen him through the Gate.
"We'll find out," he finally said. "Together."
That earned him three looks:
Myra: proud and scared. Nellie: scared and determined. Runa: unreadable, but approving.
The pup made a small spark of agreement.
They kept moving.
---
THE SPIRE
The Spire was the tallest building in Erylwood—white granite, spiraling like a tree trunk that had grown straight up into the sky, carved with old runes that glowed faint green at dawn and dusk.
Right now, in early afternoon light, it was quiet.
Too quiet.
No students around. No instructors lingering. Even the wind felt muffled, caught between the high walls and wards.
The Spire doors stood open.
Waiting.
Aiden felt the storm inside him twitch. Not in warning. In recognition.
Like something familiar—something ancient—had touched this place long before he arrived.
They entered.
---
SPIRE HALL
The inside was circular and cavernous, lit by floating lanterns shaped like willow leaves. They cast green-gold light across the polished floor, where runes spiraled in concentric rings—old magic, deep magic, the kind that made Aiden's breath catch.
There were only three people inside.
Master Veldt, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Hall Warden Jalen Mor, leaning on his staff and looking like he desperately wished he was anywhere else. And—
Headmistress Elowen Thorne, standing at the center.
Her forest-green robes drifted around her as if she stood in an invisible wind. Her silver hair was pinned back, but strands glowed faintly like threads of moonlight. Her pale gold eyes lifted when they entered.
The room itself seemed to soften around her.
"Unit Willow-3B," she said. "Approach."
Nellie made a tiny nervous squeak. Myra inhaled sharply. Runa straightened. Aiden stepped forward until they reached the first rune-circle.
Elowen's gaze swept across them.
Not unkind.
But heavy.
Ancient.
"Myra Lynell. Nellie Tinkwhistle. Runa Ironjaw."
A pause.
"Aiden Raikos."
His name felt different in her voice.
Like a truth being weighed.
"You have been summoned," Elowen said, "not for punishment—"
Myra sagged in relief.
"—but because the Gate of Thorns reacted in a way it has not in over a century."
Myra un-sagged.
Nellie clutched her satchel.
Runa's fingers brushed her hammer.
Aiden kept very still.
Elowen stepped closer.
"When Aiden Raikos entered the Gate, the thorns responded to him. When he walked the Hollow, they shaped themselves. When he reached the inner passage—something else recognized him."
Her eyes narrowed—not angry, not fearful.
Focused.
"Something that does not belong to the Academy."
Veldt finally spoke. "A force from outside the wards."
Jalen muttered, "…I knew it."
Elowen continued.
"I am not accusing you, Aiden Raikos. Nor am I afraid of you."
A small breath escaped him—one he hadn't realized he was holding.
"But I must understand what marked you," she said. "What followed you through the Gate. And what it wants."
Aiden's chest tightened.
Because he remembered the eye. The whisper. The fog that felt like hands made of memory.
The word it used:
Storm-child.
Elowen lifted a hand.
The runes in the nearest ring lit—pale, gentle, non-threatening, like the echo of sunlight through leaves.
"This is not interrogation," she said softly. "This is clarity."
Myra stepped forward instantly. "If he's answering, I'm answering."
Nellie stepped to Aiden's other side. "Me too."
Runa planted herself like a wall behind all three of them. "I observe."
Jalen whispered, "Fearsome. Gods help me."
Elowen nodded once.
"Very well," she said. "Unit Willow-3B stands together."
The runes brightened.
Elowen's eyes met Aiden's.
"Aiden," she said, "tell me what touched you inside the Hollow."
Aiden opened his mouth—
—but before he could speak—
The storm inside him flared.
Not violently.
Not dangerously.
Just… sharply.
Like a candle flame leaning toward an open window.
Elowen's head snapped toward the far wall.
Veldt's hand flew to his weapon.
Runa's hammer swung halfway from her back.
Nellie gasped.
Myra whispered, "Oh no—"
Because the Spire wall—
The one reinforced by dozens of protective wards—
—trembled.
A single crack of green-black light traced up the stone, thin as a hairline fracture.
Then a whisper slid through the hall like fog sliding beneath a door:
Found you.
Aiden's blood froze.
The pup snarled—tiny, furious lightning snapping around it.
Veldt swore something vicious.
Elowen raised her hand instantly—runes around her bursting to life.
"Warden Jalen—SEAL THE SPIRE!"
Jalen slammed his staff into the floor. Wards surged upward around the walls—
The crack vanished.
The whisper faded.
Silence dropped heavy as stone.
Aiden exhaled a shaking breath.
Myra grabbed his sleeve, knuckles white.
Nellie trembled.
Runa stepped in front of all of them with a growl.
Elowen lowered her hand slowly.
Her voice was quiet.
Very quiet.
"Storm-child," she murmured. "It is not merely watching you."
She turned her gaze toward the sealed wall.
"It is calling you."
Aiden's heartbeat thundered.
The storm inside him answered.
Not in fear.
Not in anger.
In recognition.
Elowen looked back at him.
"Aiden Raikos," she said, voice calm but unyielding. "Your world has just changed."
She stepped into the next rune-circle.
"And now we must decide how to keep you alive."
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