CHAPTER FIVE: THE GLYPH BENEATH THE GATE (Part six)
The class ended with no bell.
Just silence.
Liraen walked toward the far archway, her coat shifting behind her like a trailing memory.
She gave no final remarks.
No reminders.
She simply left.
And not a single student dared speak until she was gone.
Kaelen stood first.
Rolled his shoulders. Picked up his halberd like it weighed more today.
"Same time tomorrow?" he muttered.
Yolti exhaled. "Unless we're all consumed by ancient glyphs and timeless trauma."
Kaelen smirked.
Selka didn't move.
She hadn't moved in minutes.
Her eyes were still on the place where the glyph had been.
It wasn't glowing anymore.
But she looked like she could still hear it.
Zephryn didn't rise either.
He remained seated, fingers loosely curled against the edge of the platform.
His pulse wasn't flaring.
But it ached.
Not in pain.
In weight.
Kaelen turned toward him. "You good?"
Zephryn nodded.
Then paused.
"No."
Kaelen tilted his head, lips tightening.
"You don't have to be. Not yet."
Yolti moved past them both, flicking her braid over her shoulder.
"Well, I am. I'm great. Nothing like a mystery glyph to make you question the nature of your soul before lunch."
Selka followed quietly, brushing past Zephryn on her way out.
As she passed, she whispered—
"It knew you."
Bubbalor stepped out last.
But before it did, it stopped.
Glanced back once.
Its eye flicked toward the now-dark stone gate.
It hummed.
Once.
Sharp.
Like a warning.
Zephryn stood alone now.
Everyone else had gone.
Except one.
Above the platform, in the rafters veiled by memory cloth and glyph tracers,
Liraen Vosk still stood.
She hadn't left at all.
Her eyes watched the boy beneath the gate.
The one who didn't move like a student.
The one the glyph had chosen.
Her voice—so quiet it barely existed—
"It remembered him."