Page 6 of House Ignis

Jeremy and I had been together for years, and whatever ancient, animalistic part of me was supposedly meant to lose its damn mind over him had remained irritatingly quiet.

We walked through the courtyard toward the central hall, where our fates would soon be sealed.

The space was alive with movement—fae and human students bustling about, boundlings weaving between them in flashes of fur, feathers, and magic.

It was easy to tell the years apart—first-years in plain black leathers, second and third-years with house colors trimmed into theirs.

The humans moved through it all in brown and gold robes, quieter and more deliberate.

We approached the towering doors of the Grand Hall when a strange sensation crept up my spine—like someone was watching me.

I paused, glancing over my shoulder, but the crowd was thick, faces blurring together. I couldn't spot them.

I shook it off and followed the others inside, where we all gasped together.

It was massive. Like a coliseum carved from stone and starlight. Rows upon rows of benches curved around us in ascending rings, and above it all, a giant glass dome looked out into the sky, the morning light spilling in like liquid gold.

At the center stood the Celestial Orb, pulsing with swirling colors, alive with energy. Pain twisted through my stomach like a bolt of lightning.

This is it.

"Let's find some seats," Ryven murmured.

We followed him to the first tier—first-years at the bottom, second-years behind us, third-years above them, and at the very top, boundlings watching us like silent sentinels.

Aether peeled off without a word, stalking up to join them, tail flicking in dark warning.

"Please. No humiliation," he muttered through the bond.

I inhaled slowly.

We found seats—Ember on my right, Ryven and Maddy across from me, and Maddy basically draped over his lap.

The room quieted as a wave of magic shimmered through the air, brushing against my skin like static.

I looked up—and there was Jeremy, sitting with the second-years. His gaze was fixed on me across the arena.

Intense. Unmoving. I gave him a small smile and looked away as the rhythmic click of polished shoes echoed across the hall.

Headmaster Silas stood on the dais in crimson-trimmed robes that glowed faintly, his long white hair catching the chandelier fire.

"Today," Silas said, his voice a steady blaze, "marks the beginning of your trials. You will step forward and touch the Celestial Orb. You will feel the gods' gift flood your veins. Your fate will be sealed. Your blood marked."

Murmurs rippled like sparks through dry grass. My heart plummeted. Ember's hand found mine.

"You're losing it," Aether murmured through the bond.

I was fine. I was completely fine.

Celestial asshole.

"This year is especially momentous," Silas continued, his voice catching like kindling. "For among you walks Zymarra's Flame—the Heir herself."

Fuck.

The hall erupted. Cheers, whistles, cups raised. Sound crashed over me like a tidal wave until I could barely breathe. I wanted to crawl under the bench and disappear.

"May the gods gift you plenty," Silas finished, raising a golden chalice.