Page 2

A Seat Among Legends

T he Dining hall was quiet as we entered; curious gazes from the returning students roamed over us.

Numerous deep oak tables were scattered throughout, topped with black table settings and various sized candelabras.

Although the room was dimly lit, I could see the magnificent artwork lining the walls. Scenes of the turbulent waves of the Gaspeite Sea, the castle courtyard hosting blue and purple flowers, and portraits of what must have been previous professors painted in the most beautiful colors.

At the front of the room sat a large family-style table with high-back iron chairs, clad with red velvet cushions and gold gemstones.

The Drakestone professors assessed the students with mixed expressions of curiosity, wariness, and in some cases, what appeared to be resignation. One woman with silver-streaked black hair watched us with particular intensity, her eyes following our movements like a raven tracking potential prey.

"That's Professor Blackwood," whispered Bethany beside me. "Ancient Enchantments. They say she can read your magical signature just by looking at you."

I resisted the urge to shrink behind Bethany to hide from Blackwood’s intense gaze. Instead, I straightened my posture and continued forward with the other first-years, the weight of tradition pressing down on us like the vaulted ceiling above.

"First-year students to the center tables," announced a tall, gaunt professor whose voice seemed too commanding for his frail frame.

We moved like a nervous flock toward the center tables, our shoes clicking against the stone floor in an uneven rhythm.

I found myself seated between Bethany and a boy with copper hair.

He introduced himself as Leander in a whisper so quiet I barely caught it.

The candlelight flickered across our faces, casting dancing shadows that seemed to hold secrets of their own.

A bell chimed—three clear resonant notes that reverberated through the hall—and as one, the professors rose from their seats.

The synchronicity of their movement sent a shiver down my spine.

Their dark academic robes, adorned with intricate silver embroidery along the hems, caught the candlelight as they stood at perfect attention behind their chairs.

Above them, affixed to the wall like an unblinking statue, was the school’s crest.

Four ravens, their wings outstretched, were carved from the same dark stone as the walls, their sleek forms glistening where the candlelight caught the polished curves of their feathers.

Each bird clutched a gemstone in its sharp talons—topaz, ruby, sapphire, and emerald—glistening like captured stars against the deep black of the emblem.

The sight of them made something cold press against my ribs. The way their beaks curled downward, their gemstone eyes gleaming with an almost knowing light, sent a ripple of unease through me.

I had seen crests before, of course—house sigils, banners of noble families—but there was something different about this one. It felt alive, as though the ravens might suddenly take flight, their wings beating against the oppressive air, scattering embers and shadows alike.

A chill ran down my spine. It wasn’t just the emblem—it was the feeling it gave me, the silent warning that dripped from its presence. As if I was being watched from the shadows.

Headmistress Grimrose joined the professors at the center of the table and turned to face the students.

The sconces along the walls fluttered out, leaving us with nothing but the light of the three large chandeliers lining the ceiling.

The gemstones on the crest were vibrant in the dim light, twinkling softly in the shadows.

Grimrose motioned for the professors to return to their seats with the wave of her hand and cleared her throat.

"Let us begin." Headmistress Grimrose's voice was sharp and unwavering, slicing through the murmurs like a blade. "The four houses of Drakestone Academy resemble the ancient families who founded this university. Fortopaz, represented by Topaz and known for their strength and intellect."

Her gaze swept across the room with a commanding intensity, pausing on each of us as though weighing our unseen potential.

"Sappharris, represented by Sapphire and known for their ancient wisdom and courage.

Rubinheart, represented by Ruby and known for their incredible power and self-assurance.

" She continued, each house a legend she unfurled, and I felt myself drawn deeper into the mystery of it all.

"And lastly, Greenbloom, represented by Emerald and known for their growth and prosperity. "

The air was dense, filled with the whispered anticipations of senior students. Each murmur flicked through the atmosphere like embers threatening to ignite into rumor. I felt the heat of it prickling against my skin.

Although Grimrose's attention was riveted on us, I could sense a magnetic pull from somewhere else in the room. I dared a look over my shoulder, curiosity overpowering caution, and met with dark eyes that felt like they were gazing into my soul.

My breath caught in my throat. How could I have not noticed him before? He lounged at a table of new students, yet seemed apart from them—like a shadow that had taken human form.

His presence was so striking, it was as if he were the only figure in an otherwise indistinct crowd. Where all others appeared apprehensive and unsure, he was languid and composed, exuding a confidence that rivaled the gaze of the Headmistress herself.

It was like he had absorbed the very essence of the raven-emblazoned crest and was now casting it back, unafraid, into the world.

I couldn't look away.

Unlike the animated whispers of the other students, he was utterly still, a solitary island amidst the current of excitement. His presence was unmistakable, even from across the room.

Dark, almost black eyes held mine with an intensity that should have made me turn away, but I found myself caught, like a moth transfixed by dangerous flame.

His features were striking in the candlelight—high cheekbones and a strong jaw softened by the subtle shadow of facial hair.

Disheveled black hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders, some strands tucked carelessly behind his ear to reveal an intricate silver cuff that climbed the curve of his earlobe.

The sleeves of his jacket were pushed up just enough to reveal forearms inked with what appeared to be dragons that snaked around his skin.

I turned back quickly, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The weight of his gaze lingered on the back of my neck, raising goosebumps that no amount of warmth from the candles could dispel.

I tried to focus on the Headmistress’s words, but my awareness of him remained, a shadow cast over my consciousness.

"The sorting ceremony will now commence," Grimrose announced. She turned sharply on her heels and raised her palms to the crest behind her.

" Expergisce, " she commanded.

The Latin word flowed from her mouth with commanding intent.

The sound of shifting stone echoed through the dining hall as the crest began to tremble. The stone-carved ravens disintegrated into life, gliding through the crowd with effortless grace.

Some students shrieked as the birds swooped near their heads, drawing chuckles from the older students who clearly expected this.

The ravens danced around the dining hall, skillfully maneuvering between chandeliers, their talons clutching gemstones firmly. Leander let out a nervous laugh beside me, his lips curling into a delighted smile.

"Magnificent," he said, his eyes meeting mine in wonder. Bethany clutched my hand and pulled her knees to her chest, her limbs quivering as she focused only on the dark grains of the oak dining table.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a few birds," Leander teased with another chuckle. Bethany glared at him and squeezed my fingers until they ached.

" Redi! " Grimrose announced loudly, and the four ravens flew toward the dais, silently landing on the professors' table.

“They’re gone now, Bethany,” I said softly, slipping my hand free from hers. “Are you alright?”

She exhaled, brushing her palms down her skirt. “Yeah. Sorry. Gulls attacked me once as a kid—beady-eyed little monsters. Ever since, birds just... unsettle me.”

I glanced at her, the corner of my mouth twitching. “Duly noted. Avian vendetta.”

Bethany gave a dramatic shudder. “Those eyes. They know things.”

I turned back toward the professors, hiding my smile behind my sleeve.

"When I call your name," Headmistress Grimrose continued, her voice carrying effortlessly through the hall, "you will approach the dais. The ravens will determine your house." She unfolded a scroll with a flourish, the parchment crackling in the silence.

“Those weren’t ordinary birds,” Leander whispered, leaning closer, his eyes still on the dais.

“They’re manifestations of ancient magic—sentient stone given temporary life.” He paused, then smirked. “Not quite your seaside gulls, Bethany. These ones probably judge in Latin.”

Bethany shot him a withering glance. "That doesn't make them any less terrifying."

"I wonder how they decide," I murmured, watching as Headmistress Grimrose consulted a scroll that had materialized in her hands. The parchment seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight, the names upon it shifting and rearranging themselves. "How the houses are chosen, I mean."

Bethany’s eyes lit up, the copper in her hair catching the chandelier’s glow. “Rumor is, the ravens don’t just look at you—they read you. Strip past the layers, dig into whatever mess is buried deepest, and then toss you into the House that matches your particular brand of chaos.”