Some prepared their whole lives for this moment; eagerly waiting to see if they would be picked. And some prayed that the Gods were wrong when they chose who would protect Thalara.

But the Gods never chose wrong, and they had chosen you. Since the beginning of Thalara—centuries ago; two hundred people were chosen to go to Thalaren Crest; an academy in which people were built into machines—wielding magic, boring weapons made of the finest materials, fighting each other in order to survive—riding on the backs of dragons and learning more about the culture of their beloved land. This was in order to protect Thalara from the monsters that dwelled beyond the walls. And every year… more than half of those people died. But those who survived the training became warriors—fighters—Thalaran’s very own army: The Thala Wrath. They put their lives on the line for their land, and until they died—they would do so. It was an oath, a promise, a devotion.

The sky crackled with thunder and lightning and it rippled along your veins—a promise from the sky that this would not be easy. It was your first day at the Crest, and you were terrified it would be your last. Most people died right here in this field—and this was only the first test.

“Attention—I am the headmistress of the Crest—my name is Nyras.”

A chill licked down your spine as you caught a glimpse of the woman speaking. She looked like evil reincarnated.

“—Today, the Gods have made their decision and chosen you,” she said, looking over the crowd with a scowl. “—Bless you all.”

She squinted her eyes at the crowd. “Today is your first day, it may be your last, who knows,” she trailed off, picking off a loose thread from her black blouse. “—In order to get to the Crest, you must climb up this wall.” Everyone’s eyes looked upward to see the huge wall, with seemingly no way to go up it.

“—If you cannot do this; your journey ends here. Either die in this field, or make it to the next day.”

Your heart pounded in your chest.

“—If you succeed, you will have made it to The Crest. You will be assigned dorm rooms, uniforms, and then you will begin training. And today, the Thala Wrath will be watching you and observing. So do not disappoint.”

And like clockwork; from the sky above—from the clouds themselves came down a group—riding upon dragons. A couple people screamed and ducked as they all began to settle down; the pure strength of the wings causing wind gusts to knock almost everyone off of their feet. But they got off of their monsters as if it were nothing. One man hopped down and smoke echoed underneath his feet. Clad in all black with a bow and arrow on his back—there stood a man with a skull mask. The sleeves of his shirt seemed cut off; revealing tattooed forearms and rippling biceps; his frame wide and overpowering.

“General Ghost, an honor,” the Headmistress bowed her head at the man. Your body felt like it was vibrating, your head aching, suddenly. A ringing was heard in your ears and you flinched.

The man halted in his steps a second and looked at the crowd, as if thinking to himself before turning back to the headmistress. He gave a nod, and said nothing, as Nyras continued to speak.