The evening was full of expectancy, as if the very air worked to whisper mysteries of destiny and sacrifice. Under a sky painted in bruised purples and smoky greys, deep in the forest, I—Aria, Crescent Alpha—stood before an old stone archway. Every stride toward this barrier had been a hardship in itself, each pulse reflecting the weight of a heritage spanning ages. The last exams arrived tonight. Not just challenges of strength and ability, but also tests of spirit and sacrifice that would determine if I was really deserving of the authority bestowed upon me by our lineage.
As if pushing me to face the ghosts of our past and the horrors of our future, the Crescent Mark on my arm throbbed with relentless brightness, its glow consistent and forceful. Beyond that arch, I understood obstacles that would break me, remould me, and finally define me. And I steeled myself even though terror seized my heart. Now turning back was not possible.
