The courtyard still smelled of ash and cracked stone the morning after the Blood Moon. Repairs had already begun, but no amount of work could erase the memory of what had happened. The statue of the Academy's guardian lay in ruins, its shattered pieces covered with white cloth — as if hiding the shame of its destruction.
But it was not the broken marble that drew whispers. It was Alaric.
Everywhere he walked, conversations faltered. Students stepped aside as though his shadow stretched longer than anyone else's. Some bowed their heads respectfully, others glared with thinly veiled fear.
"Eclipse-bearer," someone muttered as he passed. Another voice whispered, "Hollow One's child…"
Alaric kept his gaze down. He didn't blame them. The memory of the eclipse storm still burned in his own mind. The screams, the dust, the way the Hollow Ones had bowed to him.
Master Kael's voice echoed in his thoughts: The power that could unmake or remake the world.
By midday, the Academy council summoned him. The chamber was dark, its walls inscribed with protective wards that flickered faintly as if testing him.
"Alaric Draven," intoned the Headmaster, his face pale under the torchlight. "What you unleashed last night has shaken this Academy to its core."
"I didn't—" Alaric began, but stopped. Excuses felt hollow. "It wasn't… fully under my control."
"That is precisely the danger," snapped another councilor. "The boy is unstable. A vessel for things he cannot comprehend."
"And yet," Master Kael interrupted, his tone cutting through the room like a blade, "without him, the Hollow Ones would have claimed this Academy. Do not mistake power for curse."
Silence followed. Alaric felt the weight of every gaze pressing on him. Allies and enemies, all in one room.
Finally, the Headmaster spoke again. "You will remain at this Academy, but under watch. One misstep, and you will not only be expelled — you will be sealed."
The word chilled him. Sealed. Bound like the crypt husks, perhaps, or worse.
That night, he tried to rest. Clem visited his quarters, her face caught between worry and resolve.
"You saved us," she whispered. "But they don't see it that way. They're afraid of what you might become."
Alaric clenched his fists. "Maybe they're right."
"No," Clem said firmly, grabbing his arm. "The Hollow Ones bowed to you — but you resisted them. That means you're still Alaric."
Her words steadied him, but only for a moment. Because in the silence after she left, the whispers returned.
"…Dual Vessel…"
"…The Hollow Ones are not gone…"
"…They wait inside the walls…"
His breath caught. Slowly, he turned toward the corner of his chamber.
The shadows there were darker than they should have been.
And this time, when they shifted, he saw a faceless head rise — watching.