Eric Ashford leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, and stared at the ceiling of his private dorm room. The lights were off, the only illumination coming from a single rune-lamp near his desk, casting long shadows across the walls.
When Zane Hollis returned from Instructor Marvin's class pale and trembling, mumbling about overlapping sigils and illusion glyphs flickering in and out of sight, Eric had expected a short-lived panic. But the Echo Chime Clayton had provided pulsed with raw arcane residue—traces that aligned perfectly with the readings from the illusion card they'd confiscated.
It was confirmation. Instructor Marvin was involved.
But Eric had already suspected that.
It wasn't just the illusion residue. It wasn't even Marvin's conveniently bland track record. No, it was the feeling. That strange, calculated kind of silence around Marvin. A man who moved just beneath the surface, never important enough to draw attention but always present.
That's what power looked like when it was pretending to be irrelevant.
He had spent the past two days quietly running his own threads.
Eric had already begun investigating on his own, of course. Trust was a currency he rationed carefully—even with allies like Asher and Clayton
While Clayton and Asher narrowed their focus on Marvin, Eric had gone deeper; he traced whispers in the shadows.
Every shadow gave him something, some reluctantly while others happily. Some whispers and clues, some were real and others fake.
But Eric knew better. He grew up in a world of smoke-filled council rooms and political paranoia.
The Warwick Union was nothing if not a training ground for survival.
His father—President Alaric Ashford—had once told him, "Power isn't something you hold. It's something you manage while everyone's trying to take it from you."
That lesson echoed now, as Eric sifted through the Black Veil's known patterns.
He found something odd.
One name in particular had stood out: Alecta Wren, a visiting researcher from two years ago. She'd been involved in a project Marvin submitted involving layered sigils and synthetic card modulation—terms that now screamed seed planting in Eric's mind.
More importantly, Wren had quietly disappeared halfway through the semester. No public reason. Just a health note and a closed file.
But she had Black Veil ties. Eric was sure of it.
Now, standing by the arched window,
let the sunlight fall over his thoughts. He needed more than just suspicion—he needed control.
The cards, the illusions, the residue—it all pointed to something bigger than Marvin. But uncovering that wasn't enough.
He wanted to profit from it.
Later that evening, as the three of them met in asher's mansion, Clayton spoke first.
"I found something weird in one of the Half-Sun archives," he said, glancing around before lowering his voice. "An old journal entry sealed with green wax. Not an academy color—dull, mossy green. Looked… ceremonial."
Asher raised an eyebrow. "What was in it?"
"A name." Clayton hesitated, then continued, "The Hollow Circle."
Eric frowned. "That again."
"You've seen it?" Clayton asked.
"No. But it sounds like one of those made-up doomsday cults," Eric said.
Clayton shook his head. "Not a cult. The entry was vague, but it mentioned 'planting seeds beneath the tower roots' and 'binding potential through illusion and gift.' That's too close to what we've seen."
"Seeds…" Asher murmured, "like the cards."
"Exactly."
Eric stared at Clayton. "And you just happened across this?"
"While looking into ceremonial glyphs. Half-Sun houses older records. "Most are garbage, but this one was hidden under a false category," Clayton said. "It wasn't easy to find."
Eric believed him—at least partially. Clayton had always been clever, but there was something he wasn't saying. Still, the name stuck.
The Hollow Circle.
No faction used it openly. No faculty bore the mark. And yet, here it was—threaded into rituals and mirrored sigils.
Eric's instincts flared. "If this group exists, and Marvin's tied to them, then we're not chasing just corruption."
"We're chasing an operation," Asher added, his tone darkening.
Clayton glanced between them. "Whatever it is… it's been running a long time. I think the cards were only the beginning."
Eric clenched his jaw. If that was true, this wasn't just about solving a mystery—it was about surviving a storm.
And guiding it.
Clayton smiled as he guided them in the right direction he had to tell them about Hollow Circle and he could not say, "I just read it in the comments of the novel you were characters in," nor could he say he got it from Lily or a source. Because just mentioning a source, both Eric and Asher would increase their eyes on him. Even though he was cooperating with them, he had no doubt that they would stab him in the back the moment they sensed a weakness so he needed to convey the information properly without giving them any leverage over him.
That night, Eric contacted his father's liaison through a secure rune link. Warwick had spies, just like every political entity worth its salt. But his father had his back while, Antigonus house is a mess in itself and the Lunar empire is divided over a successor. Eric family is tight-knit; he could contact his father any time and use any resources his family had, and even though the coalition Warwick was fractured, his family was stronger than ever.
He submitted a flagged name: Marvin Ellion. And another: Alecta Wren.
A reply came swiftly.
"Second name confirmed—low-ranking Veil operative. Ellion, suspected handler. No direct evidence. Proceed with caution."
Eric exhaled.
That was all he needed.
The next morning, Eric met Asher and Clayton in one of the unused projection halls. He laid out the copied files, the communication sigils, and the coded fragments.
"What is all this?" Clayton asked.
"Proof," Eric said, "or close enough. Marvin's connected to Alecta Wren, who was flagged as Veil-adjacent. And there's no record of where she went."
Asher leaned forward. "So what's your plan?"
Eric smiled, sharp and subtle. "We let Marvin dig deeper. Let him feel safe. Meanwhile, we shadow his students, track his movements, and flag anyone else with green-wax affiliations. And when he oversteps?"
"We strike," Clayton said.
"Hard," Eric confirmed. "And with enough leverage to expose him or use him."
"Use him?" Asher asked, cautious.
Eric shrugged. "Let's not pretend the academy's clean. If we want to make it through whatever this Hollow Circle is, we need influence. Marvin might be a liability… or a resource."
Clayton didn't respond, but his eyes narrowed in thought.
Asher simply muttered, "Dangerous game."
Eric smiled wider. "Only kind worth playing."
As the trio broke off, each walking a different path down the hall, Eric's thoughts turned inward.
He wasn't just investigating anymore.
He was building a net.
And when the storm finally broke—when the Hollow Circle stepped from the shadows—
he intended to be holding the leash.