I stood frozen before the towering iron gate, every dark thought clawing at my mind. What if I failed? What if the Enforcer saw through me? What if… I wasn't enough?
Lord Malric's voice rang in my ears: "Do not fail."
I forced a slow, steadying breath, squared my shoulders, tried to shove the fear down…
And then… bam! Someone collided with me, jolting me off balance.
"Oh! I'm so sorry… don't mind me… how—" a high, eager voice squeaked.
"It's okay," I said, trying to regain my footing.
The girl froze, eyes wide as if she'd just seen a ghost….
"Wow… you're Lady Faye Duskbane!" she breathed, practically vibrating with excitement.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Do I… know you?"
She shook her head, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. Her green eyes sparkled like sunlight on a river, and freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. She wore a fitted leather tunic with straps crisscrossing her arms, and a pair of polished boots that made her look ready to leap into action at any second. Even standing still, she radiated energy, like a flame daring the wind not to snuff it out.
"Oh, no! You don't… but everyone knows you. The infamous daughter of Lord Malric himself," she said, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.
"I'm Kaela… Kaela Ironhart," she added, holding out a hand, "a Beastwarden… a level three Gifted!"
My stomach twisted. Everyone here already knew me? And this girl… she seemed thrilled to meet me.. for reason I don't understand.
I nodded slowly, my gaze flicking back to the massive gate, the pressing crowd beyond, and the Trial that awaited me.
Kaela grabbed my hand before I could even think to pull away. Her grip was firm, confident, and she tugged me toward the massive iron gate. The gates swung open with a deep, echoing creak, and I blinked as the bright sunlight spilled over a huge line of people waiting.
Level three Gifted, level two, novices… names and ranks whispered and shouted as each stepped forward. Everyone's eyes flicked toward the newcomers.
Kaela leaned close, her grin infectious. "Just follow me," she said. "Don't freeze. Be alert."
One by one, people stepped up and announced themselves. "Name, house they came from, rank, and power," the young man taking the names called out.
Kaela went first. "Kaela Ironhart, Beastwarden, level three Gifted." Her voice rang strong, proud, and I couldn't help but feel a little awed by her confidence.
Then it was my turn. I swallowed hard, feeling all the eyes on me. Every whisper from the crowd made my stomach twist. I forced my voice steady, repeating the words I had practiced a hundred times:
"Faye… Faye Duskbane. A Noxvein, level three Gifted."
The young man paused, his pencil hovering over the list. "Duskbane?" His eyes widened, shock clear in his tone. I glanced around and saw people whispering, heads turning to stare.
"Duskbane… like Lord Malric's daughter?" he asked, still staring.
"Yes," I said, nodding, my throat tight.
"You're going to need a lot more than strength to survive here," he muttered, giving me a pass.
I blinked, confused, wondering why everyone seemed so tense around me.
Kaela appeared beside me again as we moved up the line together. Her steps were confident, steady.
"You're probably wondering why the air feels so… heavy," she said softly, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Your father… let's just say he's not really liked by many. Especially the low-rank Gifted."
I swallowed hard. Every step forward, every whisper from the people around me, made my chest tighten.
If lord Malric was hated here.. then that means my journey has just become more difficult than I thought.
We moved forward slowly, my eyes darting to everything around me. The Brasshall was alive with danger. Towering stone walls rose like black cliffs, shadows stretching and twisting across the floor. People shouted, their voices cutting through the air thick with smoke and dust. Powers flared everywhere… blinding sparks of light, bursts of force that shook the ground. Screams, metal clashing, the smell of sweat and blood… it all hit me at once, making my stomach twist.
Then a voice cut through the chaos: "Up … next!"
I looked up… and froze.
There he was.
Those Hazel eyes locked on me, burning. My legs threatened to give way, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. I stumbled back, almost falling, but his hand shot out and caught me, steadying me with terrifying ease.
His gaze didn't soften. It was sharp, cold, cutting straight through me, stripping me bare.
"You just got here and you're about to get yourself killed," he said, voice low, dangerous.
Before I could answer, he stepped back and melted into the crowd, leaving a hollow ache where his presence had been. My mind raced. Why was he here? What was he doing? Everything about this was wrong.
Then his voice snapped me back. As he stood in front of me.
"I don't have all day… hand me your pass."
Hands trembling, I handed it over. His eyes studied it with a sharp intensity, cold and almost angry, though I couldn't tell why.
"You're a Duskbane?" he said, disbelief sharp in his voice.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Yes."
He stared at me, long and measuring. Then, quieter, still cutting:
"Welcome to Brasshall… I hope you don't die too early."
My stomach twisted into knots. His words, his tone… they stabbed through me. Fear, adrenaline, and everything I wasn't ready to name, all surged at once, hot and fast.
"Next!" He shouted again.
I drew a deep breath, forced my shoulders back, and stepped forward.