Page 1 of House Ignis

CHAPTER ONE

The ivy-clad wrought-iron gates of Lyr’n’dell Academy loomed before me; their black metal twisted into ancient patterns half-swallowed by creeping vines.

Morning mist clung to my skin, heavy with the scent of damp stone and the faint, sulfurous smoke drifting from the volcanic peaks of my kingdom, Zymarra.

Beyond this threshold lay the crucible of the realm, a place where heirs and wielders from every corner of Lyr’n’dell were either forged into weapons or broken trying.

We came here to prove our bloodlines and claim honor beneath the unblinking eyes of the gods.

I stared ahead, knowing the threshold had to be crossed eventually. My feet remained frozen as if an earth wielder had bound me in place.

"It was supposed to be his third and final year," I whispered, the words tearing past my lips. My chest tightened, a familiar heat burning behind my eyes.

"But now it's my first year. And he's not here."

My chest rose and fell quickly as I tried not to revisit the past. All the times Jax—my older brother—had promised me he would be here for my first day.

That he would show me everything.

Walk me through every corridor, introduce me to every professor, and make sure I never felt lost or alone.

He had made that promise so many times it had become a kind of prayer.

He wasn't here to keep it.

The panic surged, sharp and insistent, curling up my ribs like it wanted to drag me under.

Then heat spilled through the bond—slow, deliberate—seeping into my limbs, loosening the tight coil in my chest.

I glanced down at Aether; his sleek onyx coat caught the morning light, every strand glinting like liquid shadow.

His golden eyes were unimpressed as always.

“And you will make him proud, little one,” he said, pressing his broad head into my hand.

My fingers sank into his fur.

The weight of him, the pressure, and the quiet insistence of his presence pulled me back into myself.

I drew in a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and lifted my chin.

“Let’s do this then.”

“I do have one request, though.”

Gods, here we fucking go.

“Please refrain from having an episode. Public humiliation is beneath me.”

Noted.

Episode. He meant a panic attack. The word scraped against me like flint on stone.

I’d been having them for as long as I could remember.

Since that day.

Half the time, I wished I could send him back like a carrier pigeon and be done with it. But the gods left no room for negotiation. Upon turning sixteen, every wielder was gifted a boundling.