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“Blair,” she corrects him.
“Same thing,” he brushes off. “Please don’t tell me you’re wearing pink the entire time. If so, stick with my brother. I don’t want a target on my back.”
“I’m not changing,” she announces. “It’s just an entry trial. We can wear what we want.”
“You can’t blend in the shadows looking like Mary Poppins,” he argues.
“Mary Poppins doesn’t wear pink, Alaric,” Azrael notes with a sigh. “Can we stop with the small talk? I doubt we’ll see the majority of people here when we make it to the other side.”
His reality check is much appreciated. It seems to dawn upon everyone else that this isn’t a game of hide and seek.
To get into Nephilim Malevolence University, you have to survive the trial that awaits. Then, you’re invited into the Valley of Shadows, where the essence of Nephilim gods await to mark you with your destiny.
Unlike other universities that thrive on lengthy years of commitment and training, N.M.U. strives to awaken the ultimate form of Elites.
Gilded Mergers, or what mundanes would deem Nephalems.
Beings of Gilded Light and Tainted Shadows.
Despite the extensive research done on such a sought-out level of plagued divination, the rarity of obtaining the status of Nephalem was 0.00001%.
I’m sure if they could add a few more zeros, they would, but I guess they have to make it look achievable to dedicate an entire secret institute to do it.
In the end, it’s been twenty-plus years since the last Guilded Merger was discovered, and they only lasted a year because they got pregnant.
Fertility seems to be a big no-no if you want to remain a Nephalem.
That was Ella Rose Minerva Guinevere.
My mother.
“Prepare to embark!” The woman advisor announces, leaving the crowd rendered silent in a heartbeat. “Be wary, for when you reach the gates to the Valley of Shadows, you will be separated from those you’ve clung to as temporary allies.”
I can sense the looming dread spreading across the vast crowd of anticipating students.
“The Valley of Shadows is only the TIP of the true realms of Nephilim and Malevolence. You will be tested, and the gift all of you carry will be revealed to you,” she explains. “Your gift should not be something to brag about. If you wish to do so, the consequences are yours to bear alone. The darkness enjoys solidarity. It craves the intimacy of secrecy. Either you respect and allow the shadows to awaken the opportunity for you to display your gifted essence, or it will disgrace you for not respecting its sacred present.”
Her words hold a sense of heaviness to them. Like a commandment that must be adhered to, or you’re destined to face the pits of a burning eternity.
“Upon your escape, you will meet another accepted candidate before the gates of the university. They will be your roommate for the duration of your attendance here at the N.M.U. There will be no excuses or changes to this chosen partnership,” she emphasizes. “Unless one of you perishes along the path.”
I can hear the audible gulps that ignite from many behind me.
“If you die before being officially accepted into N.M.U., your families will be notified. However, we will be unable to retrieve your bodies.”
“Wh-What?”
“Why?”
The trembling fear in the single-word questions magnifies how risky this entry trial is.
“Your body will be sacrificed to the shadows. The realms of Nephilim thrive on blood, while Malevolence seeks bodies to possess. It is unnecessary for us professors and other staff of N.M.U. to risk our lives to save the weak. If you’re unable to leave the Valley of Shadows, you are deemed undeserving of attending our university. That falls back on you. It is no one else’s fault you were too weak to reach the finish line.”
Ouch…
“Out of thousands of applicants, five hundred of you remain. How you arrived here is based on multiple factors I won’t waste time delving into. Regardless of reasoning, your family, representative, or even yourself concluded you’re strong enough to be an N.M.U. attendee. This is the sacrifice you make for your decisions and confidence.”
If the atmosphere was thick before, it’s suffocating now.
