"Sure. Get me out of having to take this test." I take his offered hand reluctantly.

His handshake is firm, and as our hands touch, I feel a strange ripple of energy pass between us. He pulls back quickly, eyes sharpening slightly before his smile returns.

An uncomfortable moment passes before he speaks. "My advice is to embrace the opportunity. It's like he said. We're all getting a chance to become something greater than we could have ever imagined. If we succeed here, we'll be critical pieces in the Empire's army, capable of defending thousands by ourselves."

"Eager to become a pawn on somebody's chess board, are you?" I ask.

Bastian offers a surprised, half-cocked smile. "We're all already on the board, Nessa. Better to turn yourself into a key piece instead of an expendable pawn, isn't it?"

I can't help smiling back. He has a point.

Bastian cuts his eyes toward the burned volunteer. "By the way. I meant what I said earlier. Those from the border—even the ones technically on Empire's side… be careful trusting them. Those territories change hands often, and sometimes the ties to Empire are superficial."

"What, do you think he's a spy or something?"

Bastian's expression is cryptic. "I think anyone who volunteers for this place has secrets." His gaze drops to my badge, then back to my face.

I wonder if I'm only a curiosity to him—something to watch with detached interest.

Before either of us can say more, guards shove me and the other offerings forward into the Hall of Testing. I give Bastian one last look, his tall form easily visible over the crowd, until I'm led down a long flight of stairs with the others.

We enter a cavernous chamber, easily large enough to hold all fifteen hundred offerings. Massive pillars carved to resemble intertwined elemental beasts support a ceiling so high it disappears into shadow. A pair of ornate double doors stand at the far end of the room. They're covered in glowing symbols that shift and change as I watch.

Smoke swirls and clings to the ground here. Colored light occasionally shifts from behind the doors, casting long streaks through the smoke that give the room an otherworldly atmosphere.

Beyond the doors, something growls, low and deep.

There's a collective shudder among the offerings, who are all being packed tightly into the room like cattle awaiting slaughter. It's only seconds before the air grows stale with our collective breath and fear.

A handful of guards stand in a semicircle before the doors, their faces impassive as they consult a long scroll.

"I bet I'm air," a girl near me whispers excitedly to her neighbor. "My grandmother could always predict storms before they came. That has to mean something, right?"

"My uncle says I've got water in my blood," another boy responds. "Says I swim better than fish."