#9 House Ceremony, What?

Rowyn POV

I blinked at Aster like she'd just summoned a kraken in the middle of my floor. "So what is this fucking ceremony?"

"The House Sorting Ceremony," she repeated, sipping her Coke like this was perfectly normal and not a complete nightmare in the making. "This Friday. We all get assigned based on our magic and traits. You know...fire, air, earth, water, shadow... The whole big ancestral cosmic destiny drama."

I groaned and flopped backward onto my cloud of pillows. "I hate dressing up. I hate ceremonies. I hate people watching me. I especially hate ceremonial dresses made of itchy glitter doom."

Aster giggled, kicking her feet in the air. "It's not that bad. I mean, unless you trip going up the platform stairs and flash everyone your underwear..."

I shot up. "That's a thing that could happen!?"

She snorted. "It did happen. Last year. Still iconic."

"I swear to the gods," I muttered, "Why the fuck is this happening? I was almost executed a week ago and now I have to do fashion shows for ancient magic spirits?"

Aster's pink brows hit the damn ceiling. "Executed?! What the hell, Rowyn?"

The lights flickered like they were gasping too. I looked over and my enchanted notebook shimmered. A line of writing inked itself across the page in Vaerion's neat, sparkly script:

Let me know what kind of dresses you girls need and I got this.

- Vaerion

We both squealed like possessed banshees.

"Holy shit, did your castle just offer to custom design our outfits?!" Aster clutched my arm. "This is better than any fairy tale."

Before I could even process that, there was a knock at the door.

We both froze like startled prey animals, wide-eyed and halfway tangled in blankets. I crept to the door and peeked through the peephole.

Headmaster Nocturne.

I threw the door open and tried not to look like we'd been screeching over magical couture five seconds ago.

"Ahh," he said with a warm, knowing smile. "Making friends already, Rowyn. I'm proud of you."

I blushed like a damn ember caught fire in my cheeks.

He peered past me into the room, his silver-ringed eyes twinkling. "And I see you've become acquainted with the castle."

I nodded sheepishly. "I was nice to it, and now he talks to me."

He chuckled and stepped in slightly, hands behind his back. "He doesn't usually do that. In fact, he hasn't, except once about 400 years ago....Consider yourself very lucky... and blessed."

Vaerion flickered the chandelier lights as if to say damn right she is.

The headmaster turned more serious then, his gaze sharp but kind. "How were your first classes?"

"I actually love them," I admitted. "Even the creepy spellcasting dude who hates godbloods couldn't ruin it."

His lips twitched. "Ah yes... Professor Thornhall. A necessary evil, I'm afraid."

Aster snorted behind me. "Necessary perv is more like it."

Nocturne ignored that, or maybe agreed silently, and looked at me with a weight I could feel down to my bones. "Eidolon is competitive. Ruthless, at times. Not everyone here will want the best for you. Some will actively want the worst."

I swallowed and nodded, straightening up slightly.

"But," he continued, glancing between me and Aster, "trust your nymph. Trust your instincts. And trust her."

He pointed subtly at Aster, whose eyes went all glassy for a second as she grinned.

"You'll do just fine."

And with that, the headmaster tipped his head, turned, and strode off like a cloaked ghost in moonlight.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I turned to Aster.

"Did we just get blessed by the headmaster and the fucking castle in one night?"

Aster grinned. "You're not just lucky, Rowyn. You're chosen as hell."

Headmaster Nocturne POV

My boots echoed against the ancient obsidian tiles, each step swallowed by the hum of living stone. The halls of Eidolon whispered with old magic, coiled and watchful. Shadows shifted along the edges of my vision, but I paid them no mind.

"Is she the one, Vaerion?" I muttered low under my breath, my eyes flicking toward the flickering sconces. The castle always listened, but rarely responded. Until now.

The flames hissed in agreement, a soft gust sweeping across the corridor like a sigh of warning.

"Protect her, then," I said. "Gods know she'll need it."

The walls groaned, like bones under strain, and I felt the weight of the castle's worry. My jaw tightened.

"What can we do?" I whispered. "When they find out what she is... when the bloodlines see her for what she truly carries..."

I trailed off. They'd try to use her. Or destroy her. Or both.

And we weren't ready for that war. Not yet.

I reached the arched doorway of my office, a heavy thing of carved blackwood and dragon glass, and pressed my palm to the center sigil. It flared gold. The door melted open with a low hiss.

Inside, the room smelled of ink, candle wax, and thunder. I crossed to the far wall where the mirror waited, tall, rippling, veiled in enchantments so ancient they spoke in languages only the dead remembered.

I reached out, fingertips brushing the surface. I spoke, "Let the ash speak."

The mirror rippled once.

Then a figure appeared in the glass, hooded, faceless, draped in starlight.

"She's here," I said. "Adjusting better than I hoped. Already making connections. The nymph has bonded. The Aster girl is loyal. And Vaerion..."

I exhaled slowly.

"Vaerion has already begun speaking to her. He's transformed her room entirely. Blankets, pillows, food, dresses on request. I dare say the old bastard is smitten."

A dry chuckle echoed from the figure beyond the veil.

"I don't know what she is yet," I added, softer now. "But I know this, she's dangerous. Not in the way they fear... but in the way that changes everything."

The figure in the mirror nodded once.

Then vanished.

And I was left with my reflection, tired, burdened, and carrying secrets no one dared say aloud.

"Hold strong, Rowyn," I whispered to the empty room.

"The storm's coming."

Zephyr POV

I leaned against the stone archway across the hall, my arms crossed, watching through narrowed eyes as Headmaster Nocturne of all damn people strolled right up to Rowyn's door like she was a fucking queen.

What in the seven hells is happening?

Who the fuck is this girl?

She shows up looking like chaos bottled in mortal skin, charms the castle, lands a nymph, a royal one no less, punches Seraphina in her perfect nose, and now she's important enough for a personal welfare check from one of the strongest godbloods in existence?

I scowled as Nocturne chuckled and winked at her like they were besties. The castle's lights even flickered when she smiled. The damn walls like her. Everyone seems to like her. Even me.

Kalyx strolled over like he owned the place, whistling off key and practically glowing with post Seraphina smugness. He spotted me and grinned.

"Sera is wicked mad at Rowyn," he snorted. "The dumb girl's so jealous it's making her blind."

I arched a brow. "Yet you're still screwing the evil hoochy mama."

Kalyx's smirk twitched. "Kitty is kitty," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not still fucking her."

That stopped me cold. I turned fully, my eyes narrowing. "Since when?"

His grin dropped, replaced by a scowl. "Since I laid eyes on fucking Rowyn. I haven't been able to think of anything else. It's driving me mad. I have no idea what's happening."

I stared at him. "Yeah," I muttered. "I understand, man. Because same."

Two of the most powerful godbloods of our generation, unraveling over one strange, sharp-mouthed girl with a wolf's snarl and moonlight in her eyes. What the hell was going on?

"I won't have it," I growled.

"Same," Kalyx echoed, but his jaw was tight and his fists clenched. "But gods, I want it."

I said nothing. My feet moved on their own, dragging me across the hall like I was tethered. My knuckles rapped on her door before I even realized what I was doing.

The door slammed open.

Rowyn stood there in a ridiculous oversized sweatshirt and fuzzy socks, her green eyes wild and annoyed, one hand on her hip like a damn firestarter.

She glared at me. "What the fuck do you want, winged boy?"

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

I had no fucking clue.