Rank #10, Aelion Starling, approached with the bearing of someone accustomed to being at the top. As his gemstone glowed with an amber hue, his demeanor transformed into barely suppressed fury.
He was not in Sylvia's curated elite, not even a balanced mid-tier formation. His hands clenched into fists as he returned to formation.
Rank #11, Cyrus Ouroboros, drew his stone with elegance. It flared amber. Cyrus accepted the assignment with perfect composure, though something in his eyes shifted. Amber meant he was being grouped with other pure-bloods.
Rank #12, Lysandra Malakor, approached the basin, her features etched with visible bitterness. When her stone flared violet, her jaw clenched visibly. She turned sharply toward where Rhys stood in formation, and her glare carried the weight of pure resentment.
