Chapter 128: Summon
The afternoon light had grown slanted through the window, casting long shadows across the small room.
The platinum-sliver haired girl remained curled on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, while Sera sat cross-legged on her own mattress, occasionally glancing over with worried golden eyes.
"The gardens really are beautiful from up here," Sera tried again, her voice carrying that determined brightness she used when attempting to lift spirits.
"And I saw students practicing with essence crystals earlier. The light they made was like rainbows dancing in the air."
Lyria’s only response was to pull her knees closer to her chest.
"Maybe we could walk through them later? Fresh air might help, and I heard there’s a fountain that sings when the wind hits it just right."
Sera’s enthusiasm felt fragile, as if she knew her words were bouncing off walls but couldn’t stop trying anyway.
Lyria remained silent, staring at nothing.
Then...
Knock!
A sharp knock at the door cut through the one-sided conversation like a blade.
Both girls froze.
Sera’s hands moved immediately to the black blindfold she’d left on her pillow, fingers working quickly to secure it back in place over her golden eyes.
She stood and moved to the door, her earlier childlike curiosity replaced by careful composure.
She creaked opened the door, revealing a young woman in academy robes stood in the hallway, clearly staff, judging by the silver insignia pinned to her collar. Her brown hair was pulled back in a practical bun, and she carried herself with the efficient bearing of someone accustomed to delivering official messages.
She bowed respectfully toward Sera.
"Lady Luminous."
Sera offered a slight nod in acknowledgment.
"I’ve been instructed to escort Miss..."
The woman consulted a piece of parchment in her hand.
"Miss Lyria to the administrative offices. There appear to have been irregularities regarding her examination results that require review."
Behind Sera, Lyria’s head snapped up for the first time in hours.
"The Headmaster wishes to conduct a personal assessment," the staff woman continued, her tone remaining professionally neutral.
"If you would please accompany me, Miss?"
Lyria uncurled from her bed, movements sharp with sudden tension.
"Personal assessment?"
"That’s what I’ve been told. Time-sensitive matter, apparently." The woman stepped aside, clearly expecting compliance rather than discussion.
Sera turned back toward the room, her blindfolded face angled toward where Lyria stood. "Should I come with you?"
"That won’t be necessary," the staff member interjected before Lyria could respond. "The meeting is for Miss Lyria alone."
Something passed between the two girls, a look despite the blindfold, an understanding.
Lyria straightened her shoulders, platinum hair catching the light as she moved toward the door.
"I’ll be back," she said quietly.
Sera nodded, remaining by the door as her friend disappeared down the hallway with the academy official.
The room felt larger and emptier with only one occupant.
********
Tap! Tap!
Their footsteps echoed through the academy’s main corridors as they walked in measured silence.
The staff woman maintained a professional pace, neither hurried nor leisurely, while Lyria followed a half-step behind. The walls around them bore portraits of distinguished alumni whose painted eyes seemed to track their passage with quiet judgment.
As they moved deeper into the administrative wing, the corridors grew wider, more ornate.
Marble columns supported vaulted ceilings while stained glass windows cast colored light across polished floors that reflected their movements like a mirror.
The administrative hall occupied the academy’s central tower, its heavy oak doors carved with the phoenix emblem that marked all official academy business.
The staff woman paused before the entrance, straightening her robes with practiced efficiency.
Knock! Knock!
She knocked twice.
"Come in," came a gravelly voice from beyond the doors.
The woman pushed open the doors and stepped inside, gesturing for Lyria to follow.
The platinum-haired girl hesitated for just a moment, then followed her inside.
The office was larger than she’d expected, with tall windows that looked out over the academy’s central courtyard. Bookshelves lined three walls, filled with volumes that spoke of centuries of accumulated knowledge. But it was the occupants that drew her immediate attention.
At the room’s center sat a massive desk of dark wood, its surface bearing neat stacks of documents and correspondence. Behind it, in a high-backed chair that seemed almost throne-like, sat the Headmaster.
He was older than Lyria had anticipated, perhaps over sixty years, with silver hair that had receded to frame a face marked by intelligence and careful authority. His robes bore the deep crimson and gold of senior academy faculty, while his pale blue eyes studied her with the kind of attention that missed nothing.
To his right stood Professor Thorne, whom she recognized from examination day. His expression remained carefully neutral, though she caught the way his fingers drummed once against his folded arms.
Three other figures occupied chairs arranged in a careful semicircle before the desk—academy officials whose names she didn’t know but whose bearing suggested significant rank within the institution’s hierarchy.
And in the chair closest to the window, wearing robes of pristine white trimmed with gold that caught the afternoon light...
Lyria’s breath caught in her throat.
The man was perhaps fifty, with the kind of ageless quality that spoke of power carefully maintained.
His hair had gone silver at the temples while remaining dark elsewhere, and his hands bore rings that gleamed with more than mere precious metals. When he turned to look at her, he just smiled.
Archbishop Valen?
The sight of him here, in this place where she’d hoped to find freedom from such influences, sent ice through her veins.
The Headmaster’s voice cut through her moment of recognition. "Please, Miss Lyria. Take a seat."
He gestured toward an empty chair positioned directly across from his desk.
Lyria moved forward on legs that felt suddenly unsteady, settling into the indicated chair.
Six pairs of eyes focused on her with varying degrees of curiosity, assessment, and something that might have been calculation.
The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before him as he regarded her with that penetrating stare.
"Miss Lyria," he began, his gravelly voice carrying easily through the spacious office. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice."
Lyria just nodded.
The Headmaster looked at her and then others and cleared his throat.
"The reason you have been summoned here is..."