The bell thundered through the academy grounds like a call to battle—deep, commanding, impossible to ignore.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The mess hall fell utterly silent. The clatter of spoons on plates ceased. Conversations died in mid-air. Every recruit's heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the booming echo.
Seraphina's breath caught. The chill in her spine wasn't from the cold stone beneath her boots—it was the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same after this moment.
Master Varric strode through the hall, flanked by instructors in crimson cloaks bearing the Drakesworn emblem—a dragon entwined with a sword. His gaze swept across the sea of first-years as though weighing each soul.
"First-year recruits," his voice rang out clear and unyielding. "Your Trial begins now."
A surge of nervous energy rippled through the crowd as recruits pushed themselves to their feet, some steadying trembling hands, others exchanging wary glances.
"Each faction will depart to their designated arenas. There you will face challenges unique to your house, your strengths, and your fears."
From the balconies above, upper-year riders watched with unreadable expressions. Some were fourth-years—the elite bonded dragon riders and clan leaders—while others were third- and second-years, veterans of past trials who now served as mentors and observers.
Seraphina's pulse quickened as she spotted familiar faces among them—Kaelen Stormfire and Lorian Nightshade—both fourth-year captains known for their strength and rivalry. But they were not alone. Each of the seven groups would be assigned at least two upper-year leaders, seasoned fighters who would oversee, challenge, and test the recruits.
Outside, the massive courtyard waited. Seven enormous crates, each carved from ancient wood and covered with glowing arcane glyphs, stood in a perfect circle. Each crate pulsed faintly with raw magical energy, waiting to be unleashed.
The first-year Drakesworn recruits were herded into their seven groups of twenty—each group called aloud by name. Seraphina's group was named Group Seven. Alongside her were Mira Windrider, Jessa Emberfall, Cato Thorn, and many others—faces new and unfamiliar, all united by the same fate.
The upper-year leaders descended gracefully from the balconies and stepped forward to join their assigned groups. Seraphina's heart skipped as Kaelen and Lorian approached, their presence commanding immediate respect and a hint of tension.
Nearby, other groups gathered their own leaders—fierce warriors cloaked in the sigils of their clans, each poised to push their recruits to the breaking point.
The air thickened with anticipation as the instructors gave the signal. The glyphs on the crates flared bright, releasing a hiss of steam and a surge of power.
One by one, the crates began to creak open.
Inside Seraphina's crate, a swirling orb of light appeared, pulsing like a heartbeat. From it descended a scroll that drifted to Kaelen's feet.
He unfurled it and read aloud:
"Trial: Fracture. One of your members will be taken. The rest must decide: risk everything to save her — or accept the sacrifice and survive."
A tense silence followed.
Before any could react, a shadow shot forth from the crate—fast, silent, merciless. Golden cords of magic lashed out, wrapping around Jessa Emberfall, pulling her to the ground.
A cry escaped her lips as she was dragged back into the crate, which slammed shut behind her.
A horn blared sharply, signaling the start of the trial.
Seraphina's jaw clenched. "We don't wait."
Kaelen's eyes burned with fierce approval. "Good. Let's see what you're made of."
The bell thundered through the academy grounds like a call to battle—deep, commanding, impossible to ignore.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The mess hall fell utterly silent. The clatter of spoons on plates ceased. Conversations died in mid-air. Every recruit's heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the booming echo.
Seraphina's breath caught. The chill in her spine wasn't from the cold stone beneath her boots—it was the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same after this moment.
Master Varric strode through the hall, flanked by instructors in crimson cloaks bearing the Drakesworn emblem—a dragon entwined with a sword. His gaze swept across the sea of first-years as though weighing each soul.
"First-year recruits," his voice rang out clear and unyielding. "Your Trial begins now."
A surge of nervous energy rippled through the crowd as recruits pushed themselves to their feet, some steadying trembling hands, others exchanging wary glances.
"Each faction will depart to their designated arenas. There you will face challenges unique to your house, your strengths, and your fears."
From the balconies above, upper-year riders watched with unreadable expressions. Some were fourth-years—the elite bonded dragon riders and clan leaders—while others were third- and second-years, veterans of past trials who now served as mentors and observers.
Seraphina's pulse quickened as she spotted familiar faces among them—Kaelen Stormfire and Lorian Nightshade—both fourth-year captains known for their strength and rivalry. But they were not alone. Each of the seven groups would be assigned at least two upper-year leaders, seasoned fighters who would oversee, challenge, and test the recruits.
Outside, the massive courtyard waited. Seven enormous crates, each carved from ancient wood and covered with glowing arcane glyphs, stood in a perfect circle. Each crate pulsed faintly with raw magical energy, waiting to be unleashed.
The first-year Drakesworn recruits were herded into their seven groups of twenty—each group called aloud by name. Seraphina's group was named Group Seven. Alongside her were Mira Windrider, Jessa Emberfall, Cato Thorn, and many others—faces new and unfamiliar, all united by the same fate.
The upper-year leaders descended gracefully from the balconies and stepped forward to join their assigned groups. Seraphina's heart skipped as Kaelen and Lorian approached, their presence commanding immediate respect and a hint of tension.
Nearby, other groups gathered their own leaders—fierce warriors cloaked in the sigils of their clans, each poised to push their recruits to the breaking point.
The air thickened with anticipation as the instructors gave the signal. The glyphs on the crates flared bright, releasing a hiss of steam and a surge of power.
One by one, the crates began to creak open.
Inside Seraphina's crate, a swirling orb of light appeared, pulsing like a heartbeat. From it descended a scroll that drifted to Kaelen's feet.
He unfurled it and read aloud:
"Trial: Fracture. One of your members will be taken. The rest must decide: risk everything to save her — or accept the sacrifice and survive."
A tense silence followed.
Before any could react, a shadow shot forth from the crate—fast, silent, merciless. Golden cords of magic lashed out, wrapping around Jessa Emberfall, pulling her to the ground.
A cry escaped her lips as she was dragged back into the crate, which slammed shut behind her.
A horn blared sharply, signaling the start of the trial.
Seraphina's jaw clenched. "We don't wait."
Kaelen's eyes burned with fierce approval. "Good. Let's see what you're made of."
The horn's echo still rang in Seraphina's ears as her group surged forward, a wave of nervous adrenaline crashing through them all. Twenty pairs of eyes, wide and searching, scanned the surrounding mountainside and the looming crates, each heart pounding with the weight of the choice ahead.
Kaelen's sharp voice cut through the hum of rising panic. "Listen up! The trial isn't over just because one of you was taken. You have two options: risk the mission and rescue her, or leave her behind and survive."
Lorian stepped beside him, his calm but icy gaze resting on the recruits. "This is more than a fight. This is about loyalty, trust, and knowing your limits."
Seraphina swallowed hard, looking around at the faces of her group—some pale, some set with determination, others trembling. Mira's eyes locked with hers, fierce and unwavering.
"We need a plan," Mira whispered urgently. "If we rush in recklessly, the whole group could fall."
Jessa's muffled cries echoed faintly from inside the crate, sharp and desperate. It was impossible to ignore.
Cato stepped forward, shoulders squared. "We can't just leave her. But we need information first—what's inside that crate? What traps or guards?"
Kaelen nodded, his gaze flicking to Seraphina. "She's right. Divide and conquer won't work here. We stick together, watch each other's backs."
Lorian's voice cut in, colder. "We have limited time. This trial is designed to fracture your trust. If you hesitate, you'll lose more than one."
Seraphina felt the pressure swell inside her chest. Here, in this moment, everything was laid bare—fear, courage, doubt.
She took a deep breath. "Then let's move. But we do it smart. We scout the area first, find weak points. Jessa's life depends on it."
The group broke into smaller teams, led by Kaelen and Lorian, scouting the terrain, studying the glowing runes on the crate, and searching for traps.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the nearby forest line. Shadows shifted between the trees, eyes glinting with predatory hunger.
Seraphina's pulse raced as figures emerged—twisted constructs of bone and flame, guardians conjured by the trial's magic.
"Prepare yourselves!" Kaelen shouted, drawing his blade, which ignited with a fierce crimson flame.
Lorian's twin daggers gleamed in the fading light as he moved to flank the creatures.
The fight was brutal and fast. The recruits, untrained but desperate, struggled to keep pace with their leaders' skill and speed.
Seraphina ducked a snapping claw and thrust her staff forward, the tip sparking as it connected with a creature's skull.
Mira fought at her side, spells weaving through the air like streaks of lightning.
The creatures fell back, but it was clear this was only the beginning.
Kaelen barked orders, "Hold formation! Protect the scouts!"
As the dust settled, Seraphina caught her breath and glanced toward the crate where Jessa had been taken.
The twisted guardians snarled and lunged again, their jagged claws scraping stone and sparks flying from the glowing runes etched into their bodies. Seraphina's heart hammered as she blocked a strike with her staff, feeling the raw power ripple through her arms.
"We need to push them back—fast!" Kaelen shouted, his flaming blade carving arcs through the air. Each swing sent bursts of heat that forced the creatures to recoil, but more kept coming, relentless as the trial itself.
Lorian darted through the fray with deadly precision, his twin daggers flashing like silver lightning. Every strike was a calculated blow, cutting down the nearest beast before it could reach his comrades.
Seraphina found herself beside Mira and Cato, the three of them moving as one—casting defensive spells, coordinating attacks, and shielding each other from the relentless onslaught.
"This is exactly what they want," Mira muttered between spells. "To tear us apart."
"Then we don't let them," Seraphina replied, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. The magic thrumming beneath her skin was waking—stronger, more focused than ever before. She could sense something waiting inside her, ready to ignite.
Kaelen's voice rose above the chaos. "Focus on the crate! If we can open it, we get Jessa back—and maybe end this trial."
Lorian nodded sharply. "But be warned—the trial won't give her up easily."
The group shifted their attention to the crate, now glowing brighter, its glyphs pulsing faster as if alive. Golden tendrils of magic snaked around the edges, blocking any attempt to pry it open.
Seraphina stepped forward, placing her hands on the carved wood. She closed her eyes, reaching deep for the power within. The air around her seemed to hum, responding to her touch.
A brilliant light erupted from her palms, crackling and wild—but controlled. The tendrils recoiled, sizzling and breaking apart under her surge.
"Now!" Kaelen shouted.
Together, the group pushed the crate open. Inside, Jessa lay unconscious but alive, tangled in shimmering chains of light.
As they freed her, a rumble shook the ground. More guardians emerged—larger, more fearsome
The ground trembled beneath the recruits as the towering guardians advanced, their jagged claws scraping stone and eyes blazing with malice. The air was thick with tension and the sharp scent of magic.
Kaelen's flaming blade cut through the nearest beast with fierce precision. "Hold the line! Protect Jessa and each other!"
Lorian darted between foes, his daggers flashing, striking swiftly to keep their enemies at bay. Around them, Seraphina, Mira, and Cato worked in unison—her magic flaring brighter with every breath, Mira's spells crackling, and Cato wielding his blade with surprising skill.
The group moved as one, covering each other's backs, pushing forward toward the crate that held Jessa captive.
Seraphina's hands glowed with raw power as she unleashed a burst of light, shattering the magical chains binding Jessa. The crate's glyphs flared violently, but under the combined efforts of the recruits and their leaders, the seals began to crack.
With a final roar, the last guardian fell, staggering backward before dissolving into smoke.
Kaelen raised his sword high. "We did it! Group Seven completes the Fracture Trial first!"
Cheers erupted among the recruits as Jessa staggered to her feet, weak but alive.
Lorian's cool gaze softened just a fraction. "Well done. But this is only the beginning."
As the other groups still struggled with their challenges, Seraphina's heart swelled with a mix of relief and pride.
They had faced the trial — and triumphed.