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122: Thornecrest Trials

Author: DiaryOfDaisy
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-05-23 07:01:01

The cafeteria at Thornecrest Academy buzzed with the high energy that came with the start of a new year.

Trays clattered, laughter echoed off the walls, and every table was a web of alliances and shifting loyalties.

First-years darted about like newly hatched birds, still trying to find where they belonged. The social hierarchy, as always, had already begun to calcify.

But at the far end of the grand dining hall, one table remained untouched by the chaos.

The Six.

They didn’t need to be loud to be noticed. They didn’t glare or sneer at people to be avoided. No one dared to disrupt their silence, not because they were brash or cruel—but because they didn’t need to be. Their presence alone redrew the map of power.

Fiero sat at the center of it all, his posture lazy, like he’d already won something the rest of the school hadn’t figured out they were competing for.

One arm was draped casually over the back of his chair, the
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  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    126: Lunch Hour

    The morning air was crisp as students moved through the halls of Thornecrest Academy, preparing for their next class. Light filtered in through the tall, arched windows, casting soft shadows across the marble floor. Lockers clicked open and shut in a symphony of metal and murmured gossip. The faint scent of citrus floor polish and ink lingered, mixed with the smell of coffee and fresh paper.House Six stood near their lockers, a stark contrast to the rest of the school. Fiero leaned against his locker, arms crossed, silent as ever. The sharp lines of his blazer collar caught the sunlight, shadowing his jaw. His gaze was distant, focused on nothing and everything.Miriam flipped through a textbook with her oversized glasses slipping down her nose, her thumb rhythmically brushing the edge of the page. She tapped her foot quietly, immersed but alert, always listening. The din of students passed over her like waves breaking on st

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    125: Peer Tutoring

    The conference room was suffocatingly quiet when Fiero walked in. The kind of silence that was too heavy, like everyone had collectively taken a breath and held it.Not that he cared.Fiero moved in with his usual lazy confidence, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders rolling in a relaxed, almost disinterested way. Each of the House Heads was already seated at the long, polished table. They were older—more seasoned, in their minds—and they all watched him like he was something to be measured.David Huntsman of House Dominion sat with an air of controlled authority, his fingers tapping on the table. George Owens of House Valiant, his face hard as stone, kept his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Anabel Lillington of House Royal looked less than impressed, and Denise Poppins of House Prestige looked annoyed, arms folded tightly. Even Tristan Hope of House Titan was frowning. And then there was Adonis Hale of House Elect—hi

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    124: Echoes In The Courtyard

    "You’re Fiero, right?” she asked, letting his name roll off her tongue like silk over sharp edges.He didn’t answer right away. Just lifted his head with that cool, deliberate disinterest.“Yes.”Just that.She smiled like she’d won something. “Didn’t realize you were this handsome in person.”Joy scoffed, loudly. “God.”Mika kicked her under the table.Fiero said nothing. Didn’t blink.Hannah tilted her head like she was appraising a painting. “You’ve got such a unique look. Pale skin, those lashes. Eyes like something out of a novel.”“Genetics,” Fiero replied, eyes still on his book.Fiero flipped the page in his book, eyes trailing the lines, but he wasn’t reading anymore. He could feel Hannah’s gaze like static on skin—curious, intrusive, admiring. It reminded him of auctions—people staring too long at art they didn’t understand.“Do you spend all your time indoors?” she

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    123: Thornecrest-House Six

    There were seven official Houses, each one an empire unto itself:House Dominion, led by Chancellor Hilliard Warwick, was the House of politicians. They ruled with influence instead of force—masters of legislation, manipulation, and legacy. If they wanted you gone, you wouldn’t see fists. You’d see polite meetings, closed-door councils, and the slow suffocation of bureaucratic precision.House Valiant, under Lady Grace Kerres, built futures from steel and fire. Entrepreneurs, inventors, strategists—children of tycoons and innovators who didn’t just own businesses, they owned outcomes. Their style was clean, ruthless, and devastatingly effective. People didn't argue with Valiant. They just went bankrupt.House Phantom, shepherded by the elusive Professor Rhys Calloway, was the house of the scholarship elite—the survivors. These students hadn’t inherited power. They earned it. With blades sharpened from hardship, they were the smartest, quickest, and most da

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    122: Thornecrest Trials

    The cafeteria at Thornecrest Academy buzzed with the high energy that came with the start of a new year.Trays clattered, laughter echoed off the walls, and every table was a web of alliances and shifting loyalties.First-years darted about like newly hatched birds, still trying to find where they belonged. The social hierarchy, as always, had already begun to calcify.But at the far end of the grand dining hall, one table remained untouched by the chaos.The Six.They didn’t need to be loud to be noticed. They didn’t glare or sneer at people to be avoided. No one dared to disrupt their silence, not because they were brash or cruel—but because they didn’t need to be. Their presence alone redrew the map of power.Fiero sat at the center of it all, his posture lazy, like he’d already won something the rest of the school hadn’t figured out they were competing for. One arm was draped casually over the back of his chair, the

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    121: Detention Or Vacation?

    7:00 PM.Detention?What detention?The room was dimly lit, bathed in the sterile, flickering glow of overhead lights that buzzed faintly like an insect caught behind glass. The walls, once white, were now yellowed with time and apathy. Desks were shoved to the sides in a haphazard mess, as if any attempt at order had been long abandoned.No teacher in sight. No authority. Just chaos—resting on tired furniture and cracked linoleum floors.If anyone had checked on them, they would’ve found nothing remotely resembling remorse. Or discipline. Or even structure.Instead—Moses was slouched in his chair like he’d melted into it, head tilted back at an unnatural angle, earbuds jammed in tight. His hood was up, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. The music in his ears was so loud that the bass trembled through the air, shaking Joy’s boots all the way across the room. Every few seconds, he’d twitch—whether from

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    120: Another Playground

    The principal’s office was suffocatingly full—twelve parents, six bruised yet unbothered students, and one overly dramatic Adonis, who was currently demanding justice. The atmosphere buzzed with an undercurrent of tension, mixed with the biting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the lingering trace of cheap cologne from too many bodies packed into a small, sterile room. It felt like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding.Seventeen students injured. Seventeen. A number that wasn’t even half of the chaos that had transpired, but still, it was enough to keep everyone on edge.The principal, looking one stress wrinkle away from quitting, had recounted every detail of the fight, no matter how ridiculous or exaggerated it sounded. Fiero breaking bones, Samuel tearing skin, Moses leaving them paralyzed with a glance, and the girls knocking them unconscious—each incident had been met with gasps and angry mutterings.The mothers? Furious.

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    119: Glass Houses And Broken Rules

    The night had been peaceful—until it wasn’t.After a satisfying meal at the dining hall, they returned to their common room on the fourth floor of the dorms.The room was cozy, dimly lit by warm-toned lamps and the soft glow of a crackling fireplace. The boys' rooms were to the left, the girls' to the right, but they always gathered here before bed, unwinding from the day’s events.Joy was comfortably perched in Fiero’s lap, her back against his chest as she talked animatedly with Mika, who sat cross-legged on the couch with a book in hand. The scent of old pages and lavender lingered in the air. Miriam leaned in, completely engrossed in whatever Mika was saying, her glasses slipping down her nose, the dim firelight catching the gleam of her thoughtful expression.Across the room, Moses and Samuel were deep in conversation, their quiet voices blending into the background. Fiero half-listened, his attention divided as he nuzzled

  • THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME    118: The Power Play

    Professor Cedric Limmins stood at the front of the classroom, his presence commanding immediate attention.Tall and lean, he had the air of someone who belonged in a courtroom, not a classroom. His silver-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose, and his suit was immaculate—sharp enough to cut glass.He placed his leather briefcase down with a sharp snap, his eyes scanning the six students before him. His gaze lingered just a second longer on each of them, as if trying to figure them out in one swift glance.“Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with authority. “You six are the only students in this class. That means I expect your full attention. Ethics isn’t just about right and wrong. It’s about power. Control. Manipulation.”He grabbed a marker and wrote on the board: Power: To wield or to fear?“Thoughts?” he asked, turning back to face the class.Mika was the first to speak, tapping her pen with a sharp rhythm. “

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