"Don't get in my way," he finally says, his voice low. "Whatever your reasons, this place will kill you soon enough."

"Is that a threat?" I ask.

The ghost of a smile touches his lips. "It's a fact."

Before I can respond, a commotion at the front of the hall draws everyone's attention. The burned volunteer steps back, his expression closing off entirely.

He turns to leave.

"Wait," I call after him. "What's your name?"

He pauses, looking back at me over his shoulder. For a moment, I think he won't answer.

"Raith," he finally says, the name landing like a challenge. Then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd as guards enter, followed by students in fitted black uniforms with silver trim.

"What was that about?" Mireen whispers, staring after him.

"I have no idea," I say honestly. But the imprint of his gaze lingers on my skin like a brand, and I can still feel the unnatural heat radiating from him. Something about our exchange leaves me unsettled—and not just because of his hostility. There was something in his eyes when I said I wasn't here for Empire. It was almost calculating, and I wonder if I would've been better off letting him think he understood me. Do I really want a man like that feeling curious enough to keep an eye on me?

But there's no use because I suspect I already have his attention.

A hush falls over the hall as seven primals stride in, each accompanied by an elemental creature. The temperature shifts instantly, patches of cold sweeping through the gathered crowd.

I gawk at the creatures in their wake.

They come in all shapes and sizes. A wolf twice the size of a man made of pure water with sapphire eyes. A large eagle formed of swirling air currents. A thick serpent made of stone, flapping through the air on craggy wings as if it were weightless. There's even a fiery bird like a phoenix soaring above the group.

I've never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying—like watching destruction and creation dance together in perfect harmony.

Primals are something people whisper about—forces of death and destruction in the deepest, most dangerous battles of the endless war between Empire and Red Kingdom. Actually seeing them in the flesh makes me feel like I'm in a dream.

But are these even fully fledged primals ready for war? They don't look much older than us, making me wonder if they aren't even finished with their training yet. Whatever they are, they still seem terrifyingly powerful, and their elementals all look capable of shredding or crushing us if they wished it.

"Listen carefully," a primal marked with a glowing white swirl of air marked on the back of his left hand says. He steps forward, his voice somehow amplified as a huge bear made of swirling winds prowls behind him. "Legacies will proceed directly to the feast hall for dormitory assignments and orientation. Aspirants will report to Commander Starke for combat assessment."