The gates of Elipse Dominion open with a groan that vibrates through my bones. The six of us step forward together, our new bond humming between us like a second heartbeat. Every other group watches us--some with curiousity, some with jealousy, some with outright hostility.
But no one comes close. Maybe it's Silas's shadows licking at the ground like warning fangs. Maybe it's Grayson's wolf pacing just beneath his skin. Maybe it's the glow still lingering on my wrist. Maybe it's all six of us in a formation that feels instinctively right.
We follow the crowd through a hallway that seems to stretch forever--black stone veined with silver light. And then we step into the hall.
I lose my breath.
The hall in enormous--far larger than anything I've ever seen back home. It swallows sound light, and breath all at once, it's vaulted ceiling glittering with suspended star-crystals that shift subtly like a living night sky. Moonstone pillars gleam with silver veins. Thousands of students stand on organized clusters--new groups only, just like us.
Silas lets out a low whistle beside me. "Homey," he murmurs.
Grayson elbows him lightly. "Behave."
"I am," Silas replies, sounding offended. "I didn't stab anyone on the way in."
Nikolai huffs a quiet laugh. Lysander looks delighted by everything. Dorian looks like he's preparing to fight half the room if needed. I just try to breathe.
We find a place near the centre, where the six of us can stand together without being boxed in. Other students keep a wide berth--whether because of our sigil or because Silas keeps twirling a knife on his finger, I don't know.
The the lights shift. A shadow falls across the stage at the front of the hall.
Someone is stepping into view.
The room goes dead silent.
Tall. Silver hair like liquid starlight. A long mantle of black and obsidian scales. His power rolls through the hall like a silent storm, and every supernatural instinct in me screams to bow.
"Welcome initiates," he says, voice carrying effortlessly. "This is the moment you believe marks the beginning of your greatness." His sharp smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I am here to inform you: you are wrong."
A ripple of nerves rushes through the groups.
Silas's hand tightens at my waist.
"You are not students," the Headmaster continues. "Not you. You are applicants. Test subjects." He tilts his head. "Raw material--unproven, unshaped, and untested."
My stomach twitsts.
"You will not attend a single class," he says, "until you survive the First Trial."
A collective gasp erupts. Even Nikolai's breath catches.
"If you fail," Vaelorian says calmly, "you will not be harmed by the Academy. You will simply... not be allowed inside. Your sigil will vanish. Your bond will break. And your life outside these walls will resume as if none of this ever existed."
"That's... merciful," someome whispers near us.
The Headmaster's lips curl. "Do not mistake me. The trial itself may kill you. Many of you--if history holds--will not see sunrise tomorrow."
Silas's shadows wrap around my wrist, protective and cold as midnight water. Grayson shifts closer, every muscle tense.
"And so," Vaelorian says, "if any of you wish to leave, do so now. There will be no consequences for walking away before the First Trial begins."
A few students whisper frantically. One group of five quietly shuffles toward the exit. The Headmaster doesn't acknowledge them.
"But if you remain..." His tone sharpens. "You stay until the Academy releases you. You will face the Trials, the yearly examinations, and the random tests issued by instructors."
He steps forward, the floor rippling beneath him like liquid glass.
"If a teacher gives you a spontaneous assessment and you fail..." His gaze sweeps the room. "You are expelled immediately."
My pulse skips. Expelled means--
"Your bond with your group collapses," he says. "And your entire team leaves with you. No exceptions."
A loud protest breaks from somewhere on the left.
"You mean one person ruins it for everyone?!"
"Yes," Vaelorian says simply. "Because this Academy does not trail individuals. It trains units. Cohesion. Strategy. Trust."
Silas presses closer behind me, his chest brushing my back.
"We rise together," Vaelorian say. "Or we fall together."
Nikolai exhales softly--frustration under control, but barely. Lysander's fingers twitch with nervous energy. Dorian remains cold.
"But if you endure," the Headmaster continues, tone suddenly shifting to something darker and more enticing, "the world will open it's doors to you. Every career. Every realm. Every opportunity. You will graduate with power, prestige, and choices that mortals--and even most immortals--will never know.
He spreads his arms.
"Your houses have been assigned. Within them you will find everything you require: bedrooms, a living area, full training chambers, stocked kitchens, even alcohol--"
Silas grins wickedly. Nikolai smirks. Grayson sighs like he already sees the chaos coming.
"--and a command tablet through which you order whatever you require. Food. Clothing. Training gear. Weapons. Entertainment. You are expected to thrive, not merely survive.
His eyes gleam.
"But do not grow comfortable. Comfort breeds carelessness. And carelessness..." He taps a finger against his temple. "...gets you killed."
The hall goes silent again. Deadly silent.
"You have one hour," Vaelorian finishes, "to find your houses, settle in, and prepare. At dawn, you face your first trial. Good luck." A beat. "You will need it."
The star-crystals brighten again. The hall buzzes with fear, excitement, dread.
My heart thuds painfully.
Silas leans down, lips brushing the shell of my ear--not kissing, but close enough that heat blooms across my skin.
"We're not leaving," he whispers. "Not a single one of us."
His shadows tighten protectively, curling around my hips.
Nikolai's voice is low beside me. "We survive together."
Grayson nods, jaw clenched. "We'll keep you safe."
Lysander steps close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. "Whatever tomorrow brings, we face it as one."
Dorian's gaze meets mine--dark, ancient, unwavering. "You are not alone anymore."
The bond hums warm and electric between all six of us. Suddenly, impossibly, i believe them.
We walk out of the great hall together, too close, too drawn, all of us touching in some way--shoulders brushing, fingers grazing, shadows looping around ankles.
Our house waits. Our future waits. And somewhere beyond dawn...
A trial that might kills us all.