The morning came gray and heavy, the storm clouds refusing to break. Alaric hadn't slept after the vision, though Clem and Darvin had stirred awake refreshed, none the wiser to what he had endured.
They laughed together in the mess hall, Darvin shoving extra bread rolls into his satchel, Clem rolling her eyes at his antics. Alaric tried to laugh too, but the sound caught in his throat.
They will leave you.
Eryndor's words lingered in his mind like a curse. He forced a smile for his friends, but behind his eyes, the shadows festered.
Later that day, a summons came. The Headmaster's seal glowed faintly on the parchment delivered to Alaric's dorm.
Eldrin wanted to see him.
Clem and Darvin offered to come, but Alaric shook his head. "It's probably just about the training. Stay. I'll be fine."
He wasn't fine. But he didn't want them to see.
The Headmaster's office was warm, the fire crackling against the damp chill outside. Eldrin stood beside his desk, his staff leaning against the wall. With him was another man — tall, broad-shouldered, his beard streaked with silver, his robes plain but lined with sigils of deep blue. His eyes, sharp beneath heavy brows, studied Alaric like a craftsman appraising flawed steel.
"Alaric," Eldrin said gently, gesturing him closer. "This is Professor Olk. He was once Keeper of Wards at the southern citadel, and one of the few scholars alive who understands the workings of souls and their bindings. I've asked him here… to help you."
Alaric froze, his heart skipping. "Help me? How?"
Olk stepped forward, his voice deep, rough as gravel. "By teaching you to strengthen what is yours, and close the doors to what is not. Right now, your soul is like a house without walls. Anyone who wishes can step inside — Hollow Ones, Eryndor… even your own doubts. If that continues, you will not survive long enough to decide which side you belong to."
Alaric swallowed hard. "And you can fix that?"
"Not fix," Olk corrected. "Guide. Strengthen. But make no mistake, boy — the work will be painful. Building walls always is."
Eldrin's eyes softened. "I would not ask this of you if it were not necessary. Already, whispers are growing. You must learn to command yourself, or others will seek to command you."
Alaric thought of Kael's voice, sharp and unforgiving. Of Corval's smirk as the shadows bowed. Of Eryndor's crimson eyes in the dream.
He nodded slowly. "I'll do it."
Training began that evening in one of the sealed vaults below the Academy. The chamber was barren except for a circle of runes carved deep into the floor. Torches burned with blue flame, casting long shadows.
"Sit," Olk instructed, pointing to the center. "Close your eyes. Breathe. Then listen."
Alaric obeyed, lowering himself into the circle. The stone was cold beneath him.
"Not to me," Olk continued. "Listen inward. To the noise in your soul. The voices. The hunger. Find it."
Alaric's breath quickened. At once, the whispers rose — faint at first, then sharp.
"…You scare them…"
"…They doubt you…"
"…You belong to me…"
Eryndor's voice slithered through his mind. Alaric flinched.
"Walls," Olk said firmly. "Picture walls around your mind. Stone, steel, fire — whatever you need. Raise them. Do not let the voices in."
Alaric tried. He imagined stone bricks rising, sealing the whispers outside. For a moment, it worked. The voices dimmed.
But then Eryndor's laugh boomed, and the wall cracked.
"…Walls crumble, boy. And when they fall, your friends will be buried beneath them."
The wall collapsed. Alaric gasped, clutching his chest, sweat dripping down his temples.
"Again," Olk said, his voice hard.
Alaric gritted his teeth. He tried fire this time, flames roaring around him. The whispers hissed, shrinking back. But then Clem's voice pierced the fire — not her real voice, but twisted.
"You scare me, Alaric."
The fire faltered.
Darvin's echo followed, sharp with betrayal. "You'll drag us down."
The flames guttered out. Alaric fell forward, choking.
"Enough," Eldrin said softly, stepping closer. His hand rested gently on Alaric's shoulder. "He has given all he can for today."
Olk's eyes narrowed. "Walls cannot be built in a day. But neither can a fortress be abandoned before its foundations are laid. We continue tomorrow."
He turned, his heavy boots echoing as he left the vault.
Alaric stayed on the floor, trembling, his hands pressed to his face.
Eldrin knelt beside him. His voice was calm, kind, but laced with steel. "You are stronger than you believe, Alaric. But you must trust yourself. Do not let the whispers tell you otherwise."
Alaric nodded weakly, but inside, doubt churned. He hadn't told Eldrin about the dream. About Clem and Darvin turning on him. About how real their voices had sounded.
He wanted to believe Eldrin. He wanted to believe Olk could help.
But deep down, Eryndor's laughter still echoed.
"…They will leave you. And when they do, you will be mine."