The fire in the common room crackled softly, its warm glow stretching across the stone walls. The five of them lingered, not quite ready to leave, yet exhaustion clung to their movements.

  Alice sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric. "So... training starts tomorrow."

  Her voice was even, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through her violet eyes. "Any guesses on what they'll throw at us?"

  Aiden leaned against the mantel, arms crossed, his blue eyes reflecting the firelight. "No idea," he said, his voice edged with something between skepticism and anticipation. "But one thing's for sure—it won't be easy."

  Thorne sat near the window, his gaze fixed outside, watching the moonlight spill over the courtyard. "Yeah," he muttered. "They wouldn't be putting us through this if it wasn't serious." His fingers tapped against the armrest, his jaw tight.

  Lyric let out a slow breath, stretching her arms over her head before letting them drop. "We don't even know what kind of training it'll be," she mused, tilting her head. "Combat? Magic? Strategy? Or something none of us expect?"

  Elias, standing near the back of the common room, finally spoke. "Whatever it is."

  His voice was calm, certain, but his amber eyes held something unreadable. He looked at each of them in turn. "We just have to be ready for anything."

  Alice exhaled, shaking her head with a small smile. "Well, I'd rather be well-rested before we find out."

  Aiden smirked. "For once, I agree." He pushed off the mantel, rolling his shoulders as if already bracing himself.

  Thorne stood, stretching lazily. "Then let's get some sleep. We'll know soon enough."

  As they each turned toward their rooms, a sudden noise shattered the quiet. A series of muffled thuds and rustling sounds echoed from behind one of the doors. The group immediately halted, exchanging wary glances before their eyes landed on Alice's door.

  She sighed, already knowing the source. "Don't worry," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's just my familiars. I think they're making a mess again."

  With a resigned shake of her head, Alice strode to her door and pushed it open. Noir and Ash fluttered out, their dark feathers ruffling as they landed clumsily in the common room. One had sleek, glossy plumage, its black eyes sharp and piercing, while the other's feathers looked rougher, almost patchy, with an eerie silver sheen reflecting in the dim light.

  Lyric watched them with a tilt of her head, her brows furrowing. "Your familiars... they don't match at all," she murmured. "They look so different from each other."

  Alice hesitated for a moment before crouching beside them, running a gentle hand over their wings. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But I think they're mine in the same way I belong to myself. Just like me... they're struggling."

  The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the two ravens settled, one preening its feathers while the other blinked up at Alice with quiet understanding.

  Aiden cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Well, at least they're not causing trouble—yet."

  Thorne smirked. "Give them time."

  Alice huffed a small laugh and stood. "Let's just get some rest before they decide to prove you right."

  Lyric offered a quiet smile before heading toward her door. "Goodnight, everyone."

  One by one, they retreated to their rooms, doors clicking shut behind them. But Elias remained, Instead of heading back like them, he walked toward the worn-out sofa near the fire and sank into it, his movements slow, almost hesitant. The flickering flames cast restless shadows across his face, highlighting the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw.

  His hands curled into fists against his knees. Save the world? How could he, when his own family had never believed in him? When he had spent his entire life falling short of their expectations? The Eclipse Heart had chosen him, but for what? He wasn't like his siblings, wasn't like the other powerful Vampires of his coven. If I can't even meet their standards, how can I stand against an unknown threat?

  In her room, Alice sat by the window, knees pulled to her chest. Noir and Ash perched on the bedpost, their watchful eyes gleaming. She had always been the lesser one—the one in her sisters' shadow, the one who never quite measured up.

  And now, she had been chosen for something far greater than herself. Why? The thought twisted in her chest. What if I can't keep up? What if I become the one they have to protect?

  Aiden lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His pack had never taken him seriously, and his own father had already chosen his younger brother as the future Alpha. And why wouldn't he? His wolf was smaller, weaker—laughable compared to the monstrous wolves of his pack.

  In his mind, he felt Fenrik's presence—a quiet, hesitant flicker of strength amidst the doubt. But the thought of shifting only made his chest tighten.

  How am I supposed to stand against a real threat when I've never even been seen as a real wolf?

  His wolf lacked the power, the sheer dominance his kin embodied. Aiden clenched his jaw, frustration simmering beneath his skin.

  "You doubt too much," Fenrik murmured in his mind, his voice quiet, uncertain.

  Aiden exhaled. "And you don't doubt at all?"

  Fenrik hesitated. "I just... wish we were stronger."

  Aiden turned onto his side, gripping the blanket. Me too.

  Thorne sat hunched at the edge of his bed, staring at his hands as if they held the answer to a question he had never been able to solve. No wings, no flames—nothing that marked him as a true dragon.

  In the quiet, he could almost sense it—a faint pulse deep within, a whisper of power just out of reach.

  I am here, a voice rumbled in the back of his mind, low and steady. Pyrix. The presence had always been there, distant yet waiting. But no matter how hard Thorne tried, he could never grasp it.

  Then show yourself, Thorne thought bitterly. But the presence only stirred, silent once more.

  His siblings were legends in the making, while he remained a footnote in their stories. He exhaled slowly, pressing his hands together. What happens when the time comes... and I have nothing to give?

  Lyric lay awake, her fingers ghosting over Astraea's soft glow. She had failed once before—when it mattered most. I couldn't even protect my own sister... how can I protect the world? Her magic had been unstable ever since that night, fractured and unreliable. What if i faltered again? What if she let them all down?

  The night was long, stretching endlessly beneath the weight of their thoughts. Five chosen ones, burdened by uncertainty, haunted by doubt.

  Tomorrow, training would begin. But none of them knew if they would ever truly be ready.

  The next morning, Cassandra strode into the common room, her deep purple cloak swaying behind her with each step. The soft click of her heeled boots against the wooden floor echoed through the quiet space. Her long, dark hair was loosely braided, a few strands framing her sharp features. She raised a hand, fingers tracing unseen patterns in the air as she murmured an incantation under her breath.

  "Rise and wake, no dreams tarry. Let the echoes shake the halls, Summon all from sleep's thrall."

  A faint shimmer of magic spread through the air, its energy rippling like a breath of wind. A moment later, sharp knocks echoed through each of the chosen ones' doors simultaneously.

  "It's time for training! Wake up fast—I'm waiting for all of you!" Her voice rang out like a thunderclap, echoing through each of their rooms, bouncing off the walls with an undeniable force. There was no ignoring it—no chance of pretending not to hear.

  One by one, the five stirred awake, groggy from the night before.

  Elias groaned, burying his face in his pillow before dragging himself out of bed. He ran a hand through his messy hair and muttered, "Why does training have to be so early?"

  Lyric blinked at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before forcing herself to sit up. She yawned, rubbing her eyes as Astraea, her tiny companion, twirled in the air beside her, nudging her to hurry.

  Aiden sat up with a start, his wolf instincts reacting to the sudden noise. He sighed, rubbing his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, already dreading whatever lay ahead.

  Thorne stretched, cracking his neck before rolling out of bed with a low grunt. He grabbed his training attire, moving with practiced efficiency, though his face remained unreadable as ever.

  Alice groaned, pulling the blanket over her head, but there was no escaping it. Ash and Noir cawed insistently, hopping around her bed, their beady eyes gleaming with mischief.

  "Alright, alright!" she snapped, jolting upright. "I'm up now!"

  She ran a hand through her messy hair, shooting her familiars a glare before muttering about how unfair mornings were.

  Quickly, they freshened up, changing into their training attire before stepping out of their rooms one after the other. As they gathered in the common room, they found Cassandra seated on one of the sofas, one leg crossed over the other, a book resting in her lap. Her fingers traced the leather-bound cover absently, but as soon as she saw them, she snapped it shut and stood up smoothly. Her gaze flickered over their faces, noting the exhaustion still clinging to their features.

  "Looks like last night's advice didn't work on you," she said, her tone dry. "From the looks of it, none of you slept well."

  Elias rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off his exhaustion. Lyric folded her arms, attempting to mask her fatigue with a forced expression of readiness. Aiden sighed, running a hand through his already tousled hair, while Thorne simply stood with a neutral expression, though the faint shadows under his eyes betrayed him. Alice, the last to arrive, stifled a yawn, blinking blearily at Cassandra.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Cassandra smirked, her amusement barely concealed. "Well, no use complaining. Training waits for no one. Let's see if you can keep up today."

  With that, she turned on her heel, her cloak flowing behind her as she motioned for them to follow. As they stepped into the hallways of the fortress, the world around them came alive. The stone walls hummed with age-old enchantments, faint runes pulsing in the dim morning light. The high arched ceilings, woven with intricate patterns of ivy-like magic, shifted subtly as they passed.

  Sleek, floating chandeliers illuminated the corridors with a soft, bluish-white glow, their light shifting subtly as if responding to movement. The air carried a blend of polished wood, faintly floral notes, and the crisp scent of magic woven into the very walls, a quiet hum of energy thrumming beneath the surface.

  Elias quickened his pace, catching up to Cassandra. "So, what kind of training are we doing today? Combat drills? Spellwork? Something new?"

  Cassandra only smiled, sidestepping his question with practiced ease. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

  Lyric glanced at her skeptically. "That sounds ominous."

  Cassandra chuckled. "Good. You should be a little nervous."

  Aiden groaned. "That's not reassuring."

  Alice crossed her arms. "Just tell us, at least a hint."

  Cassandra hummed, tapping her chin as if in deep thought. "Hmm. Let's just say today will test more than just your strength."

  Thorne narrowed his eyes slightly. "Meaning?"

  Cassandra shot him a sly look. "You'll see."

  Frustration flickered across their faces, but she only smirked and pressed forward, the rhythmic click of her boots echoing through the halls. The corridors soon led to an open training ground—expansive and unadorned, polished stone underfoot and imposing walls enclosing the space.

  The moment they stepped in, their footsteps rang out against the hollow stillness. The ground stretched endlessly before them, untouched by any sign of equipment—no racks of weapons, no enchanted dummies, no sparring rings. Just a barren space, its sheer emptiness more daunting than any battlefield.

  Thorne let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair. "You've got to be kidding me." His voice carried, laced with disbelief.

  Aiden paced a few steps forward, scanning the desolate ground as if expecting something to appear. "Not even a single training dummy?"

  He kicked at the dust. "What kind of training ground doesn’t have equipment?"

  Lyric folded her arms tightly, fingers digging into the sleeves of her tunic. "Feels like we’re being set up to fail before we even start."

  Alice’s eyes flickered toward Cassandra, her brows drawn together. "Is this some kind of test?"

  Cassandra didn’t answer. The smirk tugging at her lips was answer enough.

  Elias stood apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the empty ground. He hadn't spoken, but his shoulders were rigid, his fingers curling slightly at his sides. He had expected nothing, and yet, disappointment still gnawed at the edges of his mind.

  A sharp voice cut through the rising murmurs.

  "Are you finished?"

  The complaints died instantly.

  They turned to see Sentinel standing at the far end of the raining yard, his stance unwavering, his presence a quiet force of authority. The dark tunic and fitted leather gear he wore only added to the starkness of his gaze—cool, assessing, like a smith measuring raw metal before the forge.

  "Training does not begin with weapons or enchantments," he said, his tone even, controlled. "It begins with you. Strength is not given. It is forged. Today, we determine where you stand—and how far you have to climb."

  A heavy silence hung between them, the weight of his words settling into their bones.

  In Sentinel’s mind, Vaelthar’s voice stirred, a quiet reminder. Do not be too harsh on them. They are young. Still finding their way.

  As Sentinel took a step forward, his movements measured and deliberate, an unspoken weight settled over the group. His gaze remained firm, scanning each of them with quiet intensity. The world will not spare them for their youth, he replied. Better they learn that now than when it's too late.

  He came to a halt in the middle of the ground, his stance unwavering. He lifted a hand and gestured for them to step forward. A brief silence followed before Elias, with a deep breath, stepped forward first. His shoulders were squared, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Lyric followed next, her expression composed yet filled with quiet determination.

  Aiden moved with a slight stiffness, his posture instinctively defensive, as if bracing for scrutiny. Thorne's gaze remained steady, his movements precise and measured as he took his place. Alice hesitated just a second before stepping forward, her lips pressed together as she fought to appear unfazed.

  Sentinel observed them all, his gaze lingering on each of them in turn. "This is your first day of training. Do not take it lightly, because I certainly won't. Strength is the foundation of all power. Every kind—vampires, wolves, dragons, witches, fae, and even humans—must first have physical strength to support their other abilities."

  His eyes swept over them, assessing. "To prepare you, we will first test your raw strength. Based on the results, we will decide how to shape your training going forward."

  He glanced toward Cassandra, who stood a few feet away but with a presence that was unmistakably in command. At his signal, she stepped forward, now standing directly in front of the five of them. Sentinel moved back, putting distance between himself and the group before speaking again.

  "Now, I want to see how much strength you all have. Give it your all—no magic, no abilities. Just your physical strength. Your task is simple: attack Cassandra. All of you, together."

  As silence settled over the courtyard, five pairs of eyes widened in disbelief before they turned—almost hesitantly—toward Cassandra. She stood there, utterly unbothered, her expression unreadable, as if this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

  A low murmur rippled through the group.

  Thorne scoffed, voice hushed but sharp. "This grumpy old man has lost his mind."

  Lyric folded her arms, her tone skeptical. "We know we're not very strong, but one against five? Does he really think we couldn't even stand in front of her?"

  Elias let out a half-laugh. "Maybe she has hidden muscles under that cloak?"

  Thorne tilted his head, muttering, "She's a witch. If she can't use magic, how is she supposed to fight all of us at once?"

  Aiden smirked. "Or maybe we're about to get hexed anyway."

  Alice, who had been silently observing, finally spoke in a quiet but firm voice. "Or maybe we're underestimating her, and this is about to go very badly."

  Before their whispers could go any further, Sentinel’s voice cut through them like a blade.

  "Enough. I said attack her. Together."

  They straightened immediately, exchanging quick guilty looks before facing Cassandra again.

  She tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smirk playing at her lips. "You don't need to worry about me. Just give it your best."

  Elias let out a slow breath, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright then, let's see what you've got."

  Aiden tilted his head, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Hope you can keep up."

  Thorne stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. "This won't take long."

  The five exchanged a glance.

  Then, with a collective deep breath, they charged.

  The five launched themselves forward with no coordination, each attacking in their own way, driven more by frustration than any real strategy.

  Thorne rushed in first, swinging a wild punch aimed straight at Cassandra's shoulder. She sidestepped, barely shifting her weight, and his fist hit nothing but air.

  Aiden lunged, muscles coiling as he dove to tackle her from the side. His fingers brushed fabric—then nothing. Cassandra pivoted effortlessly, her movement smooth as water, sidestepping him as if he were no more than a passing breeze.

  Elias clenched his jaw, whipping a sharp kick toward her legs, hoping to at least disrupt her balance. But Cassandra merely stepped back, her cloak barely whispering against the air.

  Lyric and Alice seized their moment—Lyric’s fist shot toward Cassandra’s ribs, while Alice’s leg cut low, aiming for her knees. It should have forced her to react.

  Cassandra didn’t flinch. She swayed back just enough for Lyric’s punch to pass within a hair’s breadth of her chest, then lifted her foot in a lazy hover, letting Alice’s sweep pass harmlessly beneath her.

  Not a single strand of her hair was out of place.

  Elias exhaled sharply. "Are we even hitting the right Cassandra, or is this some kind of illusion?"

  Aiden scoffed. "You're just slow."

  "You're missing too!"

  "No, I almost got her."

  "You almost got thrown into the dirt, you mean."

  Sentinel’s voice sliced through their bickering. "Focus."

  They tensed and tried again.

  Thorne feinted left, then lunged right. Cassandra ducked beneath his charge, his momentum sending him stumbling past her.

  Elias fired a flurry of jabs—fast, sharp, relentless. But she wove through them like smoke, slipping just out of reach each time.

  Lyric and Alice struck in tandem, one high, one low. Cassandra tilted her head, the near miss stirring the air against her cheek, then vaulted over Alice’s leg with an effortless bound.

  Aiden snarled in frustration, throwing himself forward with full force. Just as he thought he had her, Cassandra shifted—no more than a whisper of movement—and tapped his back as he stormed past. His balance vanished. He barely caught himself before he hit the ground.

  Their breaths came ragged. Hers remained steady.

  Then she attacked.

  A blur. A strike. Aiden barely registered the impact before his back slammed against the ground, air torn from his lungs.

  Before Thorne could react, she caught his arm mid-swing, twisted just enough to unravel his stance, and used his own momentum to flip him over her shoulder. He crashed down, a pained grunt escaping him.

  Elias rushed her from behind. Cassandra didn’t turn—didn’t need to. With a shift of her weight, she flipped him over her hip, sending him sprawling with a thud.

  Lyric and Alice hesitated. Cassandra did not.

  She flowed between them, a force untethered. A sweep took Lyric’s legs from under her, planting her flat on her back. Alice barely took a step before Cassandra’s grip found her wrist—a sharp pull, a pivot, and Alice was airborne for a breathless moment before the earth welcomed her with brutal finality.

  The dust settled. The five groaned in the dirt.

  Cassandra stood in the center of the wreckage, utterly untouched. She didn’t so much as adjust her cloak.

  Aiden coughed, wincing. "Alright… maybe she does have muscles under that cloak."

  Thorne scowled, rubbing his back. "You didn’t even attack properly."

  Elias propped himself on his elbows, glaring. "Me? You ran in like an idiot!"

  Lyric flicked dirt from her sleeve. "At least he tried. You just swung like a lunatic."

  Elias snapped back. "I was testing her movements!"

  Alice sighed. "None of us had a plan. We just—"

  "Shut up, Alice, we know."

  Their voices tangled together, frustration unraveling in sharp jabs of blame and irritation.

  Then Sentinel roared.

  "ENOUGH!"

  Silence crashed down like a hammer.

  Their breath hitched, bodies locking under the sheer weight of his voice.

  He stepped forward, golden eyes blazing with something worse than anger—disgust.

  "You point fingers, yet none of you can admit the truth," he said, voice like a blade. "You lost because you are weak."

  His gaze swept over them, a slow, deliberate burn. "You’re not a team. You’re a disaster waiting to happen."

  Sentinel’s voice cracked like a whip through the air. "You call that a fight?"

  His golden gaze seared into them, burning hotter than any flame. He stalked forward, each step slow and deliberate, his presence pressing down on them like a storm about to break.

  "You attacked like children throwing tantrums," he snarled. "Wild swings, reckless charges—flailing like fools." His voice carried the weight of steel, slicing through the air.

  Aiden clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into the dirt beneath him. Elias exhaled sharply, avoiding Sentinel’s glare, while Lyric’s hands tightened into fists at her sides.

  Sentinel’s gaze swept over them, sharp enough to cut. "Chosen protectors? Is that what you call yourselves?" He let the words hang, poisoned with disdain. "Do you think fate alone will save you? That your excuses will grant you strength?"

  He gestured at their fallen forms—Aiden still gasping for breath, Thorne rubbing his bruised shoulder, Alice pressing a hand to her ribs. Cassandra stood untouched in the center of it all, her breathing as steady as when they’d begun.

  "One opponent," Sentinel said, voice dropping into something quieter, deadlier. "One warrior. And she didn’t even need to try."

  The silence after his words was thick, suffocating. A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, stirring the dust and the bitter taste of failure.

  His expression darkened, disappointment sinking into the lines of his face. "You are weak."

  The words landed like a strike to the gut.

  "Worse than weak." He leaned forward slightly, his presence a shadow stretching over them. "Unworthy."

  Aiden’s breathing hitched. Lyric’s nails bit into her palm. Thorne, normally so quick to snap back, was silent.

  "If this is the best you can do," Sentinel continued, voice low and edged like a dagger, "then you don’t deserve the power you seek. You don’t deserve the title of protectors. And you certainly don’t deserve the second chance the Eclipse Heart has foolishly given you."

  Something shifted in the air.

  Elias swallowed hard. His fingers curled into the dirt, the weight of those words sinking deep.

  "If an enemy came for you now," Sentinel went on, "they wouldn’t just kill you." His gaze bored into them, unrelenting. "They’d rip you apart and leave nothing behind but a warning for those who dared to believe in you."

  His next words struck like iron meeting flesh. "And the worst part? You wouldn’t even make them break a sweat."

  Another gust of wind swept through, carrying the sting of his words with it.

  Sentinel turned his back to them. "Get up."

  No one moved.

  The silence stretched, thick with the weight of failure. The five of them lay there, battered, bruised—not just in body, but in spirit.

  "Get. Up. And don't waste my time again."

  The final command rumbled through the space, leaving no room for hesitation.

  Gritting their teeth, they forced their aching bodies off the ground. Each movement was slow, heavy—not just from exhaustion, but from the undeniable truth carved into them.

  They had lost.

  And if they didn’t change—if they didn’t become something more—next time, they wouldn’t just lose.

  They would die.