The Octagon of Echoes and the Choice of Lineage
The Octagon of Echoes hummed with a low, thrumming vibration as the six main houses and seven lower house leaders watched the final silver thread of Hazel's dreamscape memory dissipate into the central crystal ball. The evidence was damning: Rosa Ambrose, standing within the catacombs below Star Academy alongside Temperance and Timothy Greenstream, sitting on a throne and directing enthralled boys to awaken the Emotion Doll.
Townston Timms sat perfectly still, his unseeing milky eyes looking out at nothing—but three small gullums, made of varying materials, perched on the back of his chair and sat on the table before him. Their obsidian eyes glowed as one tracked Rosa's every move in the crystal ball, one watched Hazel's every move, and the final one watched the other house leaders around him. Through these gullums, and the eyes of his marked kin sitting in the three main galleries, Townston saw the world in a sewn-together tapestry that allowed him to see with panoramic clarity.
"The vision is clear," Townston rasped, his voice rattling like dry leaves. "The girl has shown us the truth. The Emotion Doll is now in the Tan Dimension and Rosa Ambrose has been using others to awaken it. There is nothing more to discuss!"
Rosa Ambrose didn't flinch. She stood in the center of the room, her expression one of weary disappointment rather than fear. "A vision is a perspective, Elder Timms, not a conviction. I was there, yes. I was attempting to contain the doll before it could be used by those less... stable. I found the Greenstreams already in possession of it. I was trying to save the Academy, not destroy it."
"Save it?" Willamina Wist barked a laugh. "You were seen requesting more of the Vital Mirage potion. You were seen trying to awaken the doll, not contain it! And it seems that you still do not understand the dreamscape. It is not perception nor reflection; it is a window that is open—what is seen is truth—young seer."
"I was showing them what not to do," Rosa said smoothly, her eyes darting to Hazel. "Hazel is a McGonagall—an outsider. She is not even of this dimension. She does not understand our customs or the complexity of our research. She sees a weapon where I see a cure for emotional instability."
Adam Ambrose cleared his throat, leaning forward. He ignored Rosa entirely. To him, Rosa was a liability now. Hazel was the future. "Hazel," he said, his voice dripping with forced warmth. "You have done all the seven known dimensions a great service. But you are vulnerable here. As a McGonagall, you have no House to protect you, no lineage to shield you from the fallout of this trial. The House of Ambrose is prepared to rectify that. We offer you immediate adoption—a place in our primary line. You would be the Jewel of Tan."
The other leaders bristled. "Ambrose, you old vulture!" Samuel Swap yelled. "The House of Swap would offer her a seat on the board!"
Hazel felt the room closing in. They weren't looking at her as a person; they were looking at her as a legendary artifact they wanted to shelf in their private collections. She looked at her mother, Minerva, sitting in one of the upper galleries. Her expression was pinched with anger and concern.
Then she looked at Assistant Headmistress Sing—the woman who had treated her with more honesty and discipline than any of these "Lords."
"The McGonagall line is enough for me," Hazel said, her voice amplified by the room's psychotropic obsidian. "But I recognize that in this dimension, power requires an anchor."
She stepped toward the lower houses and stood with Professor Sing and her family.
"Rosa claims I am an outsider. She claims I don't understand the 'complexity' of her evil because I have no roots here." Hazel's third eye flared, the violet light reflecting off Townston's gullum. "So, I will take roots. But not with a house that breeds shadows like Rosa."
She turned to Assistant Headmistress Sing, the head of the Sing family, and a long golden stream of light moved forth and connected with Sara Sing's third eye—a formal divination gesture of petition between ancient, powerful Tan Seers.
"I ask the House of Sing to accept me. I do not ask for a name, for I am a McGonagall. I ask for the Bond of the Seer's Anchor. I wish to be a Sing in spirit, in magic, and in law."
The Octagon went deathly quiet. A "Bond of the Seer's Anchor" was a rare, ancient contract where a family took in a powerful diviner as an equal protector. It wasn't adoption; it was an alliance.
Adam Ambrose slammed his fist on the table. "You cannot! The Sings are a lower house! They do not have the power to house the Fate-Seer!"
"We are the line that keeps your children from killing each other, Adam," Assistant Headmistress Sing said, her voice cold and sharp. She stepped forward and placed her hand on Hazel's head. "The House of Sing accepts the Bond. From this moment, the Fate-Seer is anchored to our hearth. Our enemies are hers. Our blood is her shield."
Townston Timms let out a dry, hacking chuckle. "The girl has teeth. She has bypassed the High Houses entirely." He turned his ancient head toward Rosa, his gullum's eyes flashing red as all three turned their gazes on the young Ambrose. "Rosa Ambrose, your 'research' excuse is pathetic. Since the Fate-Seer is now anchored to a recognized House, her testimony stands as Law. You are hereby stripped of your privileges within the six houses, and you will be confined until your final punishment is decided."
A murmur flowed through the room and thoughts bounced off the faceted walls as Headmistress Pilar briskly walked into the chamber. As she spoke, her words bounced off the faceted walls and then streamed into the crystal ball at the center of the chamber—determining her veracity.
"Rosa needs to be read now! Temperance and Timothy Greenstream and several male Star Academy students have disappeared." Her stern silver eyes turned to Rosa. "Along with the Emotion Doll."
The crystal ball turned a brilliant white, and Rosa sucked her teeth. Carrie Clarkton stood abruptly. "The Emotion Doll is no longer in the catacombs?!"
Headmistress Pilar shook her head but said nothing. Willamina Wist looked to Adam Ambrose. "You told us she could be controlled and that no more boys would be harmed. She merely hid her behavior and now has brought an A-Class cursed item into our dimension. Elder Timms, I put forth that House Ambrose should step down from the high houses of divination."
Rosa's eyes went wide as she looked to Adam Ambrose, but he said nothing; his eyes merely stayed glued to Hazel. The divination houses of Tan were changing.