The VIP Viewing Balcony hovered high above the chaos of the Assessment Grounds, a sanctuary of velvet and enchanted glass separated from the dust and blood of the arena below.
This was the domain of the "Kings"—the leaders of the Academy's three great factions.
From this height, the desperate struggles of the new students looked like ants fighting over crumbs.
Three men sat in the darkened booth, the tension between them thick enough to choke a dragon.
On the left sat Ignis Sol, the leader of the Gilded Fang. He was the picture of aristocratic arrogance. Dressed in robes woven from Fire-Spider silk that shimmered with a constant, dull heat, he swirled a glass of vintage wine, his legs crossed. His hair was a cascade of crimson, and his eyes burned with a boredom that bordered on disdain.
