Epilogue

Kade stood in the Red Tower’s great hall, far from home. Far from warmth. Surrounded by strangers.

The Red Tower smelled of stone and ozone, a faint metallic tang that clung to the tongue. Light from the warped sky bled through the tall windows, colors shifting in bruised streaks of green and copper.

And at the center of it all…

The corpse.

The Other was strung upright on black iron hooks, arms spread wide, head tilted slightly as though it had been caught mid-turn. Its dark green skin shimmered even now, veins of white light still pulsing faintly all over its exposed skin. Four arms hung elegantly, long and graceful in their humanoid form. Its eyes, wide and a lighter shade from its skin, pupil-less, stared forever at nothing.

It was beautiful. Terrifying. And wrong.

Kade felt his stomach twist and his hands curled into fists. The flame inside him flickered against his ribs, unsettled.

He heard himself say before he thought better.

“That was one of them?”

It was still loud enough to fill the silence of the hall. Heads turned to him.

But Kade was focused on Ayen beside him. “It was a living thing once. Hanging it like this… It’s inhuman.”

The words landed heavily.

Then came the scoff, smooth with disdain. Kade turned to a tall, blue-haired boy across the hall, his clothes threaded with golden sigils; he looked a couple years older than Kade. “Strange words, Badania. You sound more like someone mourning a beast than preparing to fight it.”

A ripple of laughter followed through from young sorcerers within earshot.

Heat surged in Kade’s face. “I wasn’t mourning it…”

The words caught in Kade’s throat. Only then did he notice the weight of the eyes around him, listening, judging.

Before the silence stretched too long, Galir stepped in.

“Odd,” he said softly, as if musing aloud, “to hear lectures on courage from you of all people, Adar.”

The boy stiffened. The chuckles faltered into silence.

The smile on Galir’s face was mild. Polite even. But Kade felt it like a blade drawn behind velvet. He was oddly reminded of Akalis all of a sudden.

“Well, well…”

Adar stepped forward, recovering quickly. His voice rang loud enough to be heard across the hall.

“What do we have here? Galir Badania, the Unblessed. Don’t tell me you are here to register.” He stopped just short of them, gaze flicking deliberately between Kade and Galir. “Your father was a legend. Everyone knew his name. But now…”

His eyes turned disdainful as he continued in mock sympathy, “How far has the Badania name fallen to have you, of all people, participating in a Calling? ”

A murmur rose in the hall, some pitying, some amused. It didn’t matter. The words had landed.

Galir's jaw turned taut, his eyes cooled.

Kade bristled, hands clenching into fists. “He’s here because he’s stronger than any of you. Stronger than…”

Galir’s arm snapped out, barring him. A silent command: not your fight, the gesture said.

Adar’s gaze slid to Kade, assessing, curious. “And this must be the stray Badania picked up. You speak loudly for someone who doesn’t understand what’s at stake.”

Before Kade could push further, Ayen’s voice broke through, playful and amused as always, as she walked over. “You have an unhealthy fixation on the Badainas. Has anyone told you that before, Adar?”

Her grin was wide, wolfish, but her green eyes were icy.

“You never give me any mind, even though I am the youngest apprentice accepted into the Silver Tower. What happens if… let's say… You face me in the Selection? Hmm? Bet I could make you cry.”

The tension flicked sideways for a beat. Adar studied her, and though he scowled, he didn’t answer immediately.

“Like I said. Words are easy. Prove it.”
His tone was light, dismissive, but his gaze skipped past hers just a beat too quickly.

It was then that Kade noticed the shift in the hall. The quieting of whispers.

A black haired girl walked in.

She moved through the hall silently, amber eyes sweeping once across the corpse, then across the room. People stepped back from her, and conversations froze.

Kade’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. She felt like Velis, like gravity given form. She passed without a word, without even acknowledging those who parted instinctively before her.

“That’s Sabel Toliar,” Ayen murmured beside him, grinning. “Half the boys fancy themselves in love with her. But then again, half of them are too dumb to function.”

Galir and Kade exchanged a look, then Kade asked, almost impressed, “Where do you hear these things?”

Galir said dryly, “Don’t answer that.”

And Ayen just smiled wildly, the picture of mock innocence.

“I like gossip, so it finds me.”

The doors at the far end groaned open.

The sorcerers of the Triad entered, crimson coats moving like blood spilled across stone. At their head was Yuris Toliar, head of the Red Tower. His presence pressed down on the hall, a quiet authority that did not need to flex its strength to command it.

He stopped beneath the hanging corpse, the twisted sky light bleeding over his shoulders.

“Five years,” Yuris said, voice strong. “Five years since the last Calling. The veil weakens again. The Others stir. And you stand here because you would face them.”

The silence was total.

“This Selection will decide who among you bears that honor. Who will hold our walls for this cycle.”

His gaze swept across them, pausing, almost, on his daughter, Sabel, before moving on.

“When the bell tolls,” he said, “your trial begins.”

The words sank into Kade’s chest. His flame stirred restless, half anxiety, half exhilaration.

Galir stood rigid at his side, face unreadable. Hand on his sword hilt. Ayen smirked, but there was calculation behind it now, not just mischief. Adar’s chin rose and his eyes flickered to them, promising this was not over. And Sabel looked past them all, as if the trial was decided before it began.

The bell rang.

Deep, resonant, echoing through the Red Tower like judgment itself.

The Selection had begun.