The Duskmoor Assembly Chamber looked very different at dawn.
Gone were the flickering torches and muted darkness. Instead, the space blazed with cold, crystalline light. The central floor had transformed into a massive runic circle, glowing faintly with silver, gold, and deep violet etchings. Rows of students filled the seats, murmuring with anticipation.
Today was the Evaluation.
Duskmoor is an academy that doesn't believe in written tests.
It believed in blood, bone, and truth.
At precisely one hour before dawn, Sera stood in the center of the Trial Atrium—a vast open-air dome carved into the side of a mountain, where magic shimmered through the cold air like mist.
She wore the black uniform like the rest, but it was clear from the tense air that many here saw her as prey, an error, a curiosity at best. Still, her posture was straight, and her face expressionless.
But inside?
Her heart pounded like thunder.
Seven obsidian thrones surrounded her in a perfect circle, each throne draped in the colors of a House: Crimson for Wolves, Gold for Vampires, Blue for Mages, Green for Fae, Silver for Shades, White for Seers, and Black for the House of Shadows.
Each throne was occupied by a House Lord or Lady. Seven figures cloaked in tradition, power, and skepticism.
Above them, floating in the air like stars frozen mid-fall, hundreds of students watched from tiers carved into the mountain walls—silent, expectant, ready to judge.
Sera tightened her grip on the sword-shaped pin they had handed her earlier. It was dull, harmless… until enchanted.
She wasn't told what the trial would involve.
Only that no one left the circle unchanged.
A booming voice echoed across the atrium.
"Step forward," Headmaster Kael intoned.
Sera did.
The runes flared brighter.
Seven figures emerged from behind a carved obsidian wall—each one radiating a unique aura of power. They were the House Representatives, one for each faction.
Astrid stood slightly behind them, arms folded, gaze unreadable.
Kael's voice echoed. "Candidate: Sera Vale. Identity: Human. Bloodline: Unknown. Eligibility: Exception granted by the High Seal."
Whispers rippled through the room.
"She doesn't have a bloodline."
"Is this a joke?"
Kael raised a hand and silence returned.
"You will now face the House Trials. If you are chosen by one, you will be accepted. If none claim you…"
A pause.
"...you will be dismissed from Duskmoor. Permanently."
Sera swallowed. No pressure.
She stepped onto the glowing sigil etched into the stone floor.
"You are unaligned," Kael continued, voice steady. "Unaffiliated. Unknown. The Houses will decide if you are to be claimed—or rejected."
There was a pause.
"Now, the Trial begins."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the earth beneath her feet trembled.
The circle beneath her feet began to shift. Magic crackled in the air, sifting through her soul, her instincts, her memories. Her body tensed, reacting to something primal, ancient.
First, House Fenrir – Crimson Flame, the Wolves, a shimmer of crimson light erupted before her.
From the crimson archway, Alpha Varian Thorne stepped forward—barefoot, wild-eyed, radiating raw strength.
"We value strength, loyalty, and raw instinct," she said, her voice like a growl dressed in silk. "Even humans can have a beast within. Let us see if yours answers the call."
A low, resonant howl echoed through the chamber.
The runes turned red.
Sera's knees buckled. Her bones felt like they were trying to shift beneath her skin. Her breathing turned shallow. She gritted her teeth, resisting the pull—resisting the need to howl.
Then she slammed her fist into the floor.
The red glow vanished.
Alpha Varian gave a sharp nod.
"She resisted the change." A flicker of curiosity. "Not weak. But not ours."
He returned to his place.
Then the fire shifted...
Second, House Nocturne – Gold Mist, the Vampires, a wave of cold swept the chamber.
A tall woman with flawless porcelain skin and obsidian robes glided forward. Her eyes were the color of moonlit frost, and her expression held centuries of weariness and disdain.
From golden mist emerged Lady Cassira Voss, statuesque, ageless, and unnervingly still.
"We seek control. Precision. Hunger restrained, not indulged," she said. "Let us see if your will can match eternity."
The runes turned gold. A phantom hunger clawed at Sera's throat. Her vision blurred, colors too sharp, sounds overwhelming. She felt the seductive pull of power—of desire. She was drowning in temptation, and it was beautiful.
But she tore her gaze away.
"No," she whispered.
The gold light snapped out.
Cassira's lips quirked. "Fascinating."
She faded into mist.
Third, House Aetherion – Blue Flame, the Mages
rom the sapphire gate came Archmage Eldrin Vael, draped in robes embroidered with stars. His eyes glowed with logic and storm.
"We test intellect. Will. Control of the arcane. Will magic embrace you… or consume you?"
The rune turned deep blue.
Symbols and equations raced through the air. Lightning danced across her fingertips. The floor cracked beneath her as power surged—
Then backfired.
Sera gasped, clutching her head.
But she remained standing.
Eldrin frowned. "Untamed. But not untouchable."
He turned away.
Fourth, House Thistlewild – Green Bloom, the Fae, a gust of wind and a chime of bells.
From a trail of ivy and laughter came Prince Solen, his emerald cloak glittering with dew and mischief.
"Whimsy. Wildness. Truth hidden in riddles," he sang. "You cannot fake what is inside."
"We value creativity. Chaos. Truth buried in riddles. Let us see what lies beneath the mask."
The runes shimmered green.
Suddenly, Sera couldn't move. Her thoughts were scattered, jumbled, rewritten into puzzles. Her name slipped from her mind. Her shape felt wrong.
A riddle danced in her head: What walks as one but sleeps as three?
She focused.
Focused harder than she ever had.
And whispered back: "A secret with a heartbeat."
The runes flared… and died.
Solen giggled. "She has cleverness. But not enough madness."
He twirled away.
Fifth one to emerge, House Umbra — Silver Fog, the Shades.
The black mist curled around a figure in a midnight cloak stitched with stars.
The air chilled.
Mistress Elira, the Shade's envoy, floated forward, robes of smoke trailing behind her.
"Shadow welcomes all who fear the light," she murmured. "Do you belong in the dark?"
Silver runes sparked.
Instantly, she was blind. Alone. Forgotten.
No sound. No warmth. No memories. She didn't exist.
Her voice didn't work. She couldn't scream. She was nothing.
Until—
No.
Sera clenched her fists.
She bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood—real.
"I'm still here, I am… me." she whispered to the void. "I've always been here."
The runes vanished.
Elira's hood tilted.
"She anchored herself. Strong mind."
But she didn't step forward.
sixth was House Oracle – White Light, the Seers
High Seer Nyelle, blindfolded with threads of moonlight, approached silently.
"We seek vision. Clarity beyond time. Will she see?"
The white rune burned bright.
Sera gasped as visions exploded behind her eyes—wars, deaths, victories not yet won, faces unknown yet familiar.
It overwhelmed her.
But then… she steadied. She chose not to look.
"I will shape my own fate."
The visions ceased.
Nyelle inclined her head. "That is… unexpected."