“The men and woman who staff Valdarthan’s Academy are some of the finest Summoners I know. If it weren’t for them, well, we just wouldn’t have the personality diversity required to aptly stimulate precocious minds.”

- Headmaster Faderius Blask

It wasn’t that the commotion held over the sight seen through the window was particularly unnoticeable. In fact, it drew a larger crowd of new students and professors flooding into the corridor. However, Selena, Percy, and Reina were each far too stunned by the blazing island in the sky to even acknowledge the disappearing floor space around them.

They watched as a transparent yellow barrier surrounding the fragment of rock fizzled in and out of existence, the appendages that held it in the sky mirroring the effect, only visible when the barrier was not. A pillar of flame burst into the sky, searing the rippling flesh of one of the arms, and an inhuman scream of a thousand voices pierced the air before the misshapen limb snapped itself back away from the island, retreating into its portal, the hole vanishing immediately from the sky.

The island sagged, a strange sight to see when its supports were invisible. Percy didn’t even know what to think and, in a surprising turn of events, Silvaroth maintained a stoic silence, withholding his usual snarky comments.

Suddenly, curtains were snapping shut before the students, Percy’s group being pushed back away from the windows. An unnaturally tall scarecrow of a man wearing a wide-brimmed steel grey hat and matching overcoat strode through the crowd, his finger indicating each set of curtains just before they smashed together. It seemed to be magic, one which didn’t employ cards.

Silvaroth, seemingly understanding Percy’s confusion, offered a speculative explanation, He is perhaps controlling an invisible summon.

“Children,” the man spoke calmly in a deep raspy voice, the sound somehow carrying over the confused crowd, garnering the attention of everyone in the corridor, though none could see more than the pointed chin beneath his hat. “This event is not for your entertainment.”

The room grew dark as the last curtains closed, but an immaterial body of flame solved that issue as it leapt out of the crowd and hopped between chandelier candles, lighting each of them in turn, likely the summon of another professor.

Audible protests rose up from the people gathered, even some of the staff members, but an older brown-haired boy with silver eyes pushed his way through the crowd, flanked by several others. Their uniforms were more extravagant than the ones Percy had seen until this point, subtle geometric designs sewn into the fabrics where his own was more plain.

He shouted over the group, “Grandmaster Veigusson is right! And you should all be ashamed of yourselves for turning such a grave matter into a showing!”

The crowd muttered amongst themselves, simultaneously upset at being told what to do by their peer and unwilling to voice their complaints in front of the tall man, a Grandmaster, apparently. Veigusson turned to the boy, his body language and monotone way of speaking failing to provide any understanding of his thoughts. “Mr. Treydin, while I appreciate your expressed support, your input in this matter is wholely unnecessary.”

“As you say, sir,” the silver-eyed boy acquiesed, lowering his head and stepping back into his group of friends.

The Grandmaster swept an arm out over the crowd, his overcoat fluttering. “Now, much as I would appreciate the opportunity to stay here and maintain order, there are matters that must be attended to.” He turned his head toward the door Percy and Reina had exited. “Professor Balligan, I presume you to be capable of so much?”

Heads turned to see the woman he was addressing stumble out of the storage room in far worse shape than Selena. Mrs. Balligan was covered in ash, her clothing singed and her hair wildly out of place, the ends of some of the strands glowing embers. Her fingers bit into the wooden door frame as she pulled herself into the room.

Despite her frazzled appearance, she met his gaze with calm resolve, simply stating, “Yes.”

The Grandmaster didn’t hesitate, merely nodding and striding out of the hall with the same fluid movement he had entered with. The moment he was out of sight, the boy with the silver eyes stepped up toward the windows, throwing open the curtains and shaking his head sadly.

“If he can’t repel an attack on the school, is it even worth having him as our headmaster, anyway?” he asked, mock disappointment in his voice.

The air was thick with tension, the hall so quiet Percy was sure he could hear the students’ gazes flickering between the boy and the smoking Professor Balligan.

Her eyes filled with rage, and she stood straight, jabbing a sharp finger toward the cocky boy. “Such insolence! I can count on one hand the number of mages that could fend off the Dark Summoner. And most are long dead!”

“But clearly,” the boy responded with a shrug, “this particular mage doesn’t deserve to be on that hand.”

“How dare you! The Blasks are one of the only living families with a history of combat against that demon!”

A new voice spoke up, the crowd parting to reveal its source, a young woman, perhaps nineteen, dressed in golden silk that matched her hair. She smirked, her lazy blue-eyed gaze belying her clear interest in the matter. By the posture and tone she affected, she could’ve been royalty. “That may be true, but my grandfather is old. Unlike Alyster Oble, he has grown beyond his prime. William is right.”

The viper gaze of the woman in black shot poison toward the newcomer. Mrs. Balligan swept her hand out sharply, denying her claims. “Isidora! The day that Faderius Blask fails this academy is the day our magic dies! It is impossible, despite your best wishes to the contrary.”

The girl in gold, Isidora, apparently, raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. “You presume that I will my grandfather dead? Isn’t it you who is embracing false hope and empty wishes? I merely accept the reality before me.”

“How ironic,” Mrs. Balligan retorted tiredly. “From the family of Summoners who bind reality breakers comes a talentless diva who surrounds herself with unimaginative pawns and ‘accepts the reality before her’. Truly, that such a pinnacle of humanity could precurse one such as yourself is the unacceptable reality.”

Isidora’s mouth dropped open, and she stood there, gaping like a fish for a moment until William stepped up beside her, glaring at the professor.

“How can you possibly talk to her like that? Her grandfather is dead! Do you think it funny to add to that misery with public humiliation?”

Mrs. Balligan waved a hand. “Oh, shove off, Mr. Treydin. All the dark power in the world wouldn’t be enough to make one capable of killing Faderius Blask. Now,” she waved a hand, the curtains snapping closed again as a shadow crossed them. “It’s time we get back to our classes, yes? Faculty, tend to your students. New applicants, wait here until the hall has cleared out.”

The crowd was suddenly filled with adults, whom Percy could only assume to be professors of the academy, giving orders and moving groups of students around with professional ease. Had they been summoned by Mrs. Balligan’s call to action? Or had they been present the whole time and only just now acted, instead watching the behavior of the unsupervised?