The hall was silent.
Not just the kind of silence that came when no one was speaking—but something deeper. Almost alive. Zayn stood still, just a few steps beyond the threshold of the Void Serpent Order's inner sanctum. He could feel it. Like pressure in the air. Cold. Dense. Watching.
It didn't help that the doors had sealed behind him with a quiet, final thud. No one explained anything. No ceremony. No welcoming words. Just him, alone, in a dark corridor lit by dim violet torches embedded in stone walls that curved like the inside of a ribcage.
He swallowed and stepped forward.
Every step echoed.
So this was it. The Thirteenth Order. The one people refused to even mention by name unless they absolutely had to. The one associated with disappearances and rumors of forbidden rituals. The one no one expected a boy like him to ever step foot inside.
And yet… the Grimoire at his side pulsed faintly. Its black leather cover didn't feel cold anymore. It almost felt… curious. Like it wanted to see this place too.
As he walked, the hall widened.
Then voices.
Two of them.
"I still think it's a mistake," one said—male, deep, and almost growling.
"He reversed the spell mid-cast. That's not something we can just overlook," replied a younger, calmer voice. Female.
Zayn turned the corner slowly.
Two figures stood beneath a massive arch. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark green markings across his arms and neck. The other was a lean woman with short silver hair, her robes hanging loose like she didn't care how official she looked.
They both stopped talking when they noticed him.
"You're late," the man muttered.
Zayn blinked. "I… was told to come here right after selection."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "He's joking, Gorran. Don't mind him. I'm Elira. I handle logistics… and keeping idiots like him from burning down the halls."
"I don't burn things I don't mean to," Gorran said.
"Anyway," Elira continued, "you're the new shadow. Let's get this over with."
She waved her hand and the wall to the left shimmered. Not a door. Not a panel. Just stone reshaping itself into an entrance. Zayn stepped through it with hesitation, and into a circular room glowing faintly from the middle where an emblem—a coiled serpent swallowing its own tail—was carved into the floor.
Around the room sat six others.
Zayn counted them quickly.
Seven.
Including him, seven.
All of them wore black and grey robes with dark metallic linings along the sleeves—though each was styled differently.
"Don't just hover," said a boy with two different-colored eyes. "Come in. We've been dying to meet the ghost."
Zayn blinked. "Ghost?"
"That's what they called you during selection," said another voice—this time from a girl sitting cross-legged on a high pillar. "You stood there, dead calm, and reversed a spell like it was a leaf in the wind. Ghost-boy."
Elira clapped once. "Enough. Names can wait."
"Names always wait," Gorran muttered as he slumped into a shadowed corner.
Zayn took a seat near the edge of the room. The others watched him, but not in a hostile way. More like people trying to solve a riddle.
"Where's the Captain?" Zayn asked, unable to keep the question in any longer.
"He comes when he wants," Elira said. "Or when the Serpent stirs."
Zayn frowned. "The Serpent?"
Everyone glanced at the floor.
Gorran finally sat up. "This Order was formed from a fragment of a being that doesn't belong in this world. The Void Serpent. Don't think about it too hard. You'll sleep better."
"Or worse," someone whispered.
Elira looked at Zayn directly. "This place changes people. Fast. You either find your spine or leave in pieces. So if you're not ready—"
"I'm staying," Zayn said before she could finish.
The silence that followed wasn't cold.
It was approval.
The girl on the pillar dropped down. She landed light as a feather and walked over.
"Tessa," she said, offering a hand. "Illusion mage. Third seat in the Order, technically."
Zayn shook it. "Zayn."
The boy with two-colored eyes raised his hand lazily. "Ren. Trap and poison mix. Second seat. Don't eat anything I offer you. Or touch anything that smells nice."
Gorran snorted. "Or anything at all."
A soft knock echoed through the room.
Zayn turned, heart jumping.
The wall shimmered.
A familiar voice.
"Zayn?"
It was Lyra.
She stepped through before anyone could stop her.
Her hair was pinned back this time, and her eyes scanned the room before locking onto him. She smiled—but it was faint. Nervous.
"I… wanted to see if you were okay," she said.
"I'm fine," Zayn answered.
Elira looked unimpressed. "Visitors aren't exactly encouraged."
"I'm not staying long," Lyra said quickly. "I just wanted to give him something."
She held out a small parcel. Zayn took it carefully.
Bread. Warm. Fresh.
He stared at it like it was treasure.
"You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," she said.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Ren leaned over and whispered to Tessa, "Didn't know the ghost had a girlfriend."
Tessa smiled. "Not a ghost anymore."
Lyra gave Zayn a final look, then nodded.
"Be careful, okay? People talk about this place…"
"I know."
And then she was gone.
The wall closed behind her.
Zayn sat back, the bread in his lap.
The room felt less cold now.
Gorran grunted. "Alright. Enough flirting. Captain wants us in formation at dawn."
"Why?" Tessa asked, tilting her head.
"First mission," Gorran said simply. "Something's waking in the Weeping Hollow. The Serpent felt it."
Everyone went quiet.
Even Ren stopped smirking.
Elira stood. "We move in twelve hours. Get sleep. You'll need it."
Zayn didn't sleep.
Not because he was afraid—but because for the first time in a long while, he felt something he hadn't expected.
A sense of belonging.
Even in the belly of the serpent.
Even surrounded by outcasts from every layer of society.
He didn't know what the mission would be. Or what horrors waited in the Hollow.
But he knew one thing.
He wouldn't run from it.
---
The void beneath their feet was no longer just silence—it was a hum. Low and steady. As if the walls themselves were alive, pulsing with ancient knowledge and secrets waiting to be unraveled. The seven Acolytes stood in a crooked half-circle, facing the Captain of the Void Serpent Order. His eyes moved across each of them, calculating, weighing, judging.
"You were not chosen for your control," he began, voice calm yet weighty, "nor for your talent."
A flicker of confusion crossed Lyra's face.
"You were chosen because you are unfinished."
His tone wasn't cruel—it was honest. Almost quiet. Like an old truth being dusted off.
"Acolytes... you're the venom waiting to be refined. A proper poison doesn't lash out. It waits."
Zayn felt the eyes of others shift slightly toward him, perhaps still thinking about what his Grimoire had done in the arena. But he didn't meet their gaze. His own stare remained fixed on the Captain.
"I'll keep this short," the Captain went on. "We don't parade in the open. We move behind curtains. Our operations don't happen in the daylight—they're whispers in cold corridors, slivers in minds, shadows under the skin."
Another man stepped forward from behind the Captain. He was tall, hooded, face wrapped from the nose down, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through flesh.
"This is Second Fang—Elias. My lieutenant. He handles discipline, tracking, and surveillance. If he ever has to speak to you privately, you've likely messed up."
Elias offered a slight nod, saying nothing.
The Captain paced a slow line in front of them.
"There will be a mission. Soon. You won't be going alone. You'll move under supervision. A scouting expedition, but with teeth."
He stopped directly in front of Kael.
"You have a sharp tongue, boy. But I'm curious if your blade matches it."
Kael held his gaze. "I've killed snakes twice my size with dull stones. If I had a proper blade—"
"You'd still need control," Elias cut in for the first time, voice barely louder than the wind through a crack.
Zayn's thoughts drifted briefly. He still wasn't sure how to feel about the Grimoire. The page remained blank. Even now, days after the tournament, not a single new rune, not a symbol, not a whisper of magic on the dark parchment. Just that eerie emptiness that mirrored his past.
Yet… it had responded. In that moment of danger, it hadn't failed him.
"Any questions before you're dismissed?" the Captain asked, tone firm but not unkind.
One of the other Acolytes, a girl with silver tattoos trailing from her neck down her arms, raised a hand.
"What's the nature of the mission?"
The Captain gave a half-smile.
"We don't reveal the prey before the cage is sealed. But it's tied to movement near the Bleeding Coast. Disappearances. Whispers. The kind of thing we like to investigate before others panic."
Zayn glanced toward Lyra. She was standing rigid, her eyes flicking between the Captain and the black stone around them. Their gazes met briefly. She gave a small smile, like a flicker of light in a dim room.
She didn't need to speak. He understood. She was here—not in the same Order, but close enough. And she had come.
That night, after the briefing, Zayn wandered the lower hallways of the Void Serpent's barracks. The place was endless—twisting stairways that looped through columns and black stone paths that led to rooms carved with symbols older than the Kingdom's language.
He stopped by an overlook, where part of the fortress gave way to a void-like canyon—darkness that swallowed even moonlight. It was oddly peaceful.
"You're not easy to find," came a soft voice from behind him.
Zayn turned. Lyra stood a few feet away, arms folded, wearing the insignia of the Seventh Order—Silver Grove. Her olive-green uniform contrasted with the obsidian tone of his own.
"You shouldn't be here," Zayn said, though there was no bite in his words.
"I asked permission. The Orders haven't gone on missions yet. They let us roam... a little."
He stepped back so she could stand beside him. She didn't hesitate.
"Do you regret it?" she asked after a long silence.
"No. Just confused."
Lyra looked down at the void below.
"My Order is... peaceful. They're all about balance and healing. But they took me in despite my affinity."
"Illusion magic," Zayn recalled.
"Yes."
They both stood in silence again, but this time it wasn't awkward. Just still.
"You were amazing out there," she said. "Scary, but... brilliant."
Zayn didn't answer immediately.
"It wasn't me," he said finally. "It was the Grimoire. I don't even know how it works. I don't understand it. But it listens when I'm afraid."
She looked at him then.
"Then it's not just listening. It's protecting you."
He glanced sideways at her, and for the first time, smiled.
"You sound like someone who trusts magic too much."
"I trust people," she corrected. "Even broken ones."
Before she turned to leave, she added,
"Be safe, Zayn. I'll see you when the missions begin. If you make it back with all your limbs, I might let you buy me bread."
"I don't eat bread."
"Then I'll eat both."
She walked off into the corridor.
Zayn remained there, long after she was gone. The void stared back, but this time it didn't seem so empty.
Just waiting