A hush deeper than silence filled the hall.
"I have asked the teachers, along with our Head Boy and Head Girl, to conduct the division ceremony in a simple manner. Afterward, you may all have your dinner and proceed directly to your respective dormitories."
His eyes sharpened, his voice ringing with authority.
"And let this be clear—there will be no more gossip or careless talk about what happened. Theron Ravencrest has done what he chose to do. What comes next is for the Ministry to decide, not for students to meddle in. You are here to study, to grow, and to make yourselves strong enough so that one day, you may face such trials without fear. That is your duty. Nothing else."
A low murmur rippled, then stilled as his gaze swept the crowd.
"Remember," Head master Dreymark said, his tone softer now, "take care of yourselves. Take care of your friends. That is how we honor the fallen."
With that, he turned to the woman at his right, a tall witch of about sixty-five, her gray hair braided neatly under her pointed hat. Her sharp eyes glowed with wisdom, though her face bore lines of age and discipline.
"Vice-Headmistress Seraphina Duskbane," Dreymark said firmly. "Please begin the ceremony. Complete it swiftly. After that I must leave for the Ministry."
Seraphina bowed her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Then, with a sweep of her finger, the torches in the hall blazed brighter, signaling the beginning of the division ceremony.
"Attention everyone!" Professor Duskbane's voice echoed across the grand hall. "We are about to begin the House Division Ceremony for this year. First-year students, please listen carefully. I will call your names one by one. When it is your turn, step onto the stage and stand in the middle of the circle. The lamp will reveal your House. Once your House is decided, you may join your seniors at your House table."
At this, Aeron's gaze wandered toward the House tables.
Above the first table, a blue flag hung proudly, bearing the image of a black dragon with silver eyes. Its name: Drakemont.
The second table stood beneath a green flag, where a silver phoenix wreathed in golden flames spread its wings wide. Its name: Emberthorn.
And finally, above the third table, a red flag shimmered with the emblem of a crescent moon surrounded by glowing stars. Its name: Moonviel.
Just as Aeron's eyes lingered on the banners, a sharp pinch on his arm dragged him back to reality."Aeron! Professor Duskbane is calling your name," whispered Eirene urgently.
Heart racing, Aeron rose from his seat and walked toward the stage. At its center stood a tall, ancient lamp, its glass surface alive with shifting colors—the very light that would decide his destiny.
Aeron stood in the center of the circle, the lamp's glow settling over him like a spotlight. Its voice echoed in his mind, "You are destined for great power, like your father. You belong to Drakemont."
Aeron's heart clenched. "No—please, not Drakemont," he pleaded. "I don't want to be like my father. Don't put me there."
"Hmm… not Drakemont? Are you certain?" the lamp pressed.
"Yes," Aeron said firmly. "I'm dead sure."
A pause stretched. "Very well… Moonveil, then."
"Thank you," Aeron whispered, relief washing over him.
But the lamp lingered unusually long on his head, longer than with anyone before. Murmurs rippled through the hall. Whispers rose—was this boy even worthy of Grimswald? Professor Duskbane parted her lips, ready to call him down from the stage.
Then, suddenly, the lamp's light flared crimson. A cheer erupted from the Moonveil table, their clapping filling the hall as Aeron finally stepped away from the circle.
After Aeron, Professor Duskbane called Eirene's name. She walked up to the stage, and the lamp blinked green. That meant she belonged to Emberthorne Group.
Next came a girl named Lily. Just like Eirene, the lamp glowed green for her, placing her in Emberthorne as well.
Both Eirene and Lily joined their house table, where the seniors and fellow students greeted them warmly. They had just begun chatting when Professor Duskbane called out another name.
"Marcus."
A tall boy stepped onto the stage. The lamp shimmered blue, marking him for Drakemont Group. Marcus smiled with pride at the decision, but his sister Lily looked a little disappointed—she had hoped they would be in the same house.
And with that, the House Division Ceremony came to an end.
Headmaster Draymark rose from his seat, his deep voice carrying easily across the Great Hall.
"I wish all of you the very best as you begin this term," he said, his eyes sweeping over the rows of eager first-years and the watchful older students. "Remember, the House Championship Trophy will be awarded at the end of the year. It is earned through your performance, discipline, and the honor you bring to your House. Work hard, support one another, and let your efforts shine."
His words stirred a mix of excitement and determination among the students, especially the wide-eyed newcomers.
"To our first-years," Draymark continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, "this is your chance to begin shaping your legacy. May your choices and your courage add glory to your House."
With that, he gave a dignified nod, and the feast began. Platters of steaming food and golden goblets filled the long tables, laughter and chatter quickly filling the hall.
Before leaving, Headmaster Draymark turned to the House teachers, as well as the head boy and head girl. His tone shifted, carrying quiet authority.
"I must leave for the Ministry tonight. The safety and order of this school rests with you until my return. Guide the younger ones well—and if anything unusual occurs, you are to inform me at once."
The teachers bowed their heads in acknowledgment, and the head boy and girl exchanged a solemn glance, understanding the weight of their responsibility.
And with that, Headmaster Draymark swept from the hall, his robes trailing behind him, leaving the care of the students in the capable hands of his chosen guardians.