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"What we choose when we don't know what they're measuring." No one immediately argues.

Rowan finally sighs. "I liked drowning better."

After lunch, the first-years are summoned to the administration wing. Not for answers. For preparation. That distinction becomes clear the moment we enter the long registration chamber.

Tables have been arranged beneath the windows. Faculty members sit behind them with lists, medical forms and narrow black bracelets.

Professor Vale stands at the front. The room quiets.

"In three mornings, you will arrive at the Eastern Courtyard wearing standard training clothes." She pauses. "No weapons." Several students exchange looks. "No personal magical objects." More unease. "No food." A hand rises. Professor Vale ignores it. "You may carry one layer for cold weather and one water flask."

The student keeps his hand raised. Professor Vale looks at him. "Yes?"

"Will there be cold weather?" The student asks. "Possibly."

"Will we need the water?" He adds.

"Yes."

"How much?"

Professor Vale sighs. "As much as you have."

The student frowns. "That isn't an answer."

"It is the only one you're receiving."

He lowers his hand. Faculty members begin distributing the black bracelets. When one reaches me, I turn it over in my palm. The material is smooth and slightly warm. No clasp. No visible magic.

"What does it do?" I ask. The professor behind the table does not look up.

"It identifies you." He says.

"To whom?"

This time he looks at me. "The Academy."

Nothing else. The bracelet closes around my wrist the moment I touch it to my skin.

A thin silver number appears. 117. Nyra receives 118. Rowan gets 123 and complains that it is aesthetically disappointing. Selena gets 109 and says nothing. Aricia studies hers as though attempting to see the magic inside it.

Professor Vale speaks again. "These bracelets cannot be removed before the Trial concludes."

A wolf near the back immediately tries. The bracelet tightens. He stops.

Professor Vale waits. "An efficient demonstration." A few students laugh nervously. "Any attempt to damage, conceal or alter the bracelet will be recorded as an automatic failure." That silences the room. "Further questions?" Dozens of hands rise. Professor Vale looks around. "No." Then leaves.

By late afternoon, the Academy has transformed into a place preparing for a storm no one can see. First-years crowd the library, searching for records of previous Trials. They find nothing.

Every relevant page has been removed from student-accessible texts. Rowan discovers this and declares censorship. Selena calls it curriculum control. Aricia points out that both can be true.

Students begin practicing everything they know. Wolves run the cliff paths. Vampires spar in the lower courtyards. Fae meditate beneath trees. Sirens test breathing exercises. Medusae study maps that may not matter. Nobody knows what to prepare. So everyone prepares for themselves. That may be the first part of the Trial.

Nyra and I enter the library before dinner. The central white tree glows beneath evening lanterns. Every table is occupied. Stacks of books surround anxious first-years.

Soren sits alone on one of the upper balconies reading. For a moment, I consider asking him. Then he looks down. Sees the black bracelets. Smiles. And lifts his book to hide his face. Coward.

Nyra notices.