CHAPTER SEVEN: THE KING'S FLAME (Part one)
The summons came before sunrise.
A quiet pulse in the dorm wall.
No knock. No scroll. Just a flicker of energy that passed through the floor like a ghost too old to bother speaking.
Zephryn woke instantly.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't speak.
He just sat up, scarf still wrapped around his shoulders, and stared at the dorm door.
Kaelen stirred. Yolti rolled over once. Selka didn't move.
But they all knew.
The king was calling.
He dressed without thought.
Didn't wear his Lyceum standard.
Didn't wear armor.
Just the pendant. The scarf. The weight of memory on his back.
As he stepped into the hall, Bubbalor stirred from the shadows.
It didn't hum.
It didn't follow.
It just watched.
Eyes glowing. Silent.
The walk through Celestis Veil was unlike before.
Not because it was cold.
Not because it was early.
But because everything felt… paused.
Like the kingdom itself had turned its head to see who was walking toward the throne.
He passed no guards.
The gate opened on its own.
The hallway narrowed.
The resonance torches didn't flare.
They dimmed.
And when he reached the final door—
he didn't knock.
He just pushed it open.
And stepped into memory.