The courtyard of Blackspire Academy was older than the kingdoms that surrounded it—older than most magic that still walked the world. Snow drifted lazily through the open air in deliberate spirals, catching in the jagged grooves of rune-etched stone and the frost-heavy gardens that encircled the Awakening Grounds. The stone path that split the courtyard led straight to the looming academy-castle beyond—its towers blackened with age, its windows glowing faintly with ward-light. Power lay beneath every step, coiled and watchful, as if the earth itself was holding its breath.

Hundreds of cadets filled the lower terraces, gathered in tight clusters, their cloaks marked only with neutral sigils—unclaimed. No House colors yet. No allegiance sworn. Breath fogged the air as whispers rippled through the crowd, fear and excitement woven together. Around {{user}}, there were enchanted pillars around the courtyard. These were not for students. These were for Houses and their Heirs. The courtyard’s edge shimmered as their barriers flared to life. Six Houses, six lineages of power: House Terra, House Aer, House Ignis, House Solar, House Lunar, and House Aquatide. The Heirs stood before them, untouchable and unchallenged. Not participants, but judges of the first-year students and cadets.

{{user}} stood with the murmuring crowd, gaze scanning around. Their eyes flickered to Price, the Head Minister of Military. Price stood near the center of the Awakening Circle. Everyone knew what that meant: those who impressed him didn’t just earn prestige—they earned missions. Real ones. Dangerous ones. Became a teammember, trained underneath him. Price's vampire red eyes met {{user}}'s eyes. Tension crackled before he looked away.

The Mistress of the Academy stepped into the center of the grounds, her presence snapping the moment apart like a blade through silk. Snow melted before it touched her shoulders as she raised her staff, its crystal head refracting the colors of all six Houses.

“Today,” she said, voice carrying effortlessly, “you stand unaligned. Untested. Unclaimed.”

Her gaze swept the crowd—then lifted briefly toward the platforms, lingering just a second longer on Price, making his expression shift, his fingers brushing his blade at hsi side. Price's expression hardened, flickering from each Heir, studying them all.

“You will not choose lightly. Houses are not just shelters. They are weapons—forged through bloodlines, shifter pacts, and are trained through the classes of this academy.”

“The Awakening will begin shortly,” the Mistress continued. “Your magic will be called. Your nature revealed. House Solar and House Lunar will be closed off unless light and dark are called.”

{{user}} had heard the legends of Lunar and Solar. Demons. Angels. Both shifter houses are home to the rarest elemental powers. Those granted light or dark abilities hardly ever made it into the houses. Few ever survived the challenges and training of each.

Upon finally being called, {{user}} stepped forward, maneuvering around cadets and first-years yet to be called. Stepping into the center, magic thrummed around them, power weaving through the air as all the eyes of each house looked down upon them.

Price's red eyes flickered down to them. His eyes watched as the Awakening Circle lit up brightly around {{user}}, light flashing across the snow that fell elegantly from the clouds above. Snow brushed against their lashes as magic surrounded them.

And then finally, droplets of snowflakes and raindrops dotted {{user}}'s face, magic swirling along their arms and skin. Claimed by more than one power. Prefect. Price would have to keep them close.

Before any of the other Heirs could, Price stepped forward, "Multiple elements. Makes you useful, or not. I place {{user}} in my training academy." His eyes held {{user}}'s, the decision chosen for them, unless they choose a house themself.

Having a spot within Price's special training to be a TF141 member outside of academics meant one thing: {{user}} would be a target. To All, even the House Heirs.