Entrance Ceremony

He rose to his feet and stood before the full-length mirror. Light poured in from behind, casting a glow across his face. With care, he brushed back his silver-black hair, tied it, smoothed the unruly strands, and tucked them gently behind his ear. He slipped into the green formal shirt, fastening the buttons one by one; leaving the collar slightly open, he draped the coat over his shoulder.

For a moment, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, his thoughts wandering to an uncertain future. Drawing a deep breath, he straightened his chest, a faint smile curling on his lips as he looked at the wolf beside him. “Let’s go, boy.”

Shadowolf stood quietly at his side, bearing a dignity that made him seem less like an animal and more like a loyal guardian.

He walked down a long, wide hallway with stone walls and a gray floor that led to the main hall. Draping his coat over his shoulders, he paused for a moment as he grasped the door handle, ready to step into his new world. He opened the door—the heavy creak shattered the silence of the corridor.

His eyes met a vast gathering assembled inside. Cheers, students’ chatter, the calculating gazes of the school’s elders, and the warm, clear eyes of his friends all welcomed him.

With steady steps, he made his way toward the center of the hall, where his new friends—the first people he had come to know—waited for him.

“Hey, Arian, looking sharp, kid!” Derikaron clapped him on the shoulder, greeting him with a broad smile.

“So, Arian, have you thought about what we’re going to do over these two days?” Maro asked, his eyes filled with curiosity.

“Yeah. I’ll join the Vanguard of the Present—I want to start a new chapter.” He shifted his gaze, scanning the hall for the faction leader. “What about you? Which faction are you going for?”

“You know, Leo and I are joining you! That way we can watch each other’s backs.” Laina, dressed in a long crimson robe, answered Arian’s question without hesitation. Leo nodded in agreement.

Maro rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. “I think my fate was decided long ago… Shadows of Order. My blood chose it for me.”

The murmur of the hall continued strongly, yet it had no effect on the discoveries of this table.

“Well, you know, I’m joining the Children of the Root. It suits me, and I don’t want to experience changes,” Sairon said, gesturing toward the elves in green robes.

“You’re going to the Heirs of Balance too, right, Derikaron?” Maro’s eyes flicked to Derikaron, who was fidgeting with the collar of his black coat.

“Yeah, I’m heading there. My sister’s there too.”

“Wh—wait, you have a sister?” Arian’s eyes widened, and like the others, he was eager for an answer.

“Yeah, I have a sister.”

Suddenly, the clang of a spoon striking a glass, like an iron bell, cut through the murmur of the hall, drawing every gaze toward the kings’ table.

“Today, we are all gathered here to determine how you will shape your future in this school.” William, standing at the center of the table, spoke with a firm, commanding voice. “As you know, you first-years are about to join different factions. You may already have some knowledge of each faction, but now it is the great kings themselves who will provide you with precise guidance.”

William turned toward the kings and bowed, passing the stage over to them.

A hush fell over the hall, and the faces of those present revealed a mix of emotions—some anxious, others eager—but all were impatiently waiting for the kings to speak.

Drakensius rose from his seat and, with firm steps that seemed to press a weight upon every student, approached a white flag. At its center was engraved a golden scale, framed by the wings of a golden dragon.

“Remember this: the most important thing in this world is balance. Everything that stands depends on it.” His voice made the pillars of the hall tremble, let alone the students.

On the other side, King Eldinor moved forward, his long robe trailing along the floor. He reached the flag depicting a tree with upward-stretching branches and thick, protective roots.

“Dear friends, remember—roots nourish the future.” His gentle voice caressed the ears of all present, as if the roots of the earth beneath them were whispering.

Raxlius strode toward his own emblem with heavy steps, each movement revealing the strength of his muscles even through his shirt.

“Do you know why I chose this symbol?” He gestured toward the crescent moon, whose shadows formed intricate patterns behind it. “True order rises from shadows and darkness. To achieve justice and order, one must venture into the depths of darkness.”

Raxlius’s harsh, grating voice sent a shiver of fear through everyone present.

Now it was time for Andreas to step forward—a king whose every movement radiated authority. He held a flag bearing a sword, split through the center by an hourglass.

“My point is this: power exists in the present, not in past dreams or future promises. So hold on to the now.”

All four kings waited for the youths who would carry on their paths and uphold these beliefs.