“Anyone can become an Orion. Sure, there are the other divisions, but nothing gets fresh bodies on the walls more than the promise of power. Tell them they’ll get the magic that comes from a dead beastie and the weak will clamber over each other just to get a taste of the scraps we leave behind.”

- Emperor Anthony Lancaster (Private journals)

“Papers!” the attendant demanded at the head of the line I was in. Three other lines far larger and longer than mine snaked through the streets expanding from the hunter’s academy here on the eastern edge of Halistair. The people in those lines were far more eager and exuberant than the stony faces that greeted me in this particular queue.

Above us, the dawn crested over the high walls and shimmered slightly as the wards refracted the lights. The tips of the thatched and bricked rooftops basked in the new day, and a small portion of my fears slipped away at the sight. Though built for defense, Halistair still possessed a rugged beauty I’d come to love. Hundreds of conversations echoed throughout the giant courtyard we were in, weathered trees lining each side of the smooth stone entrance.

Above us, the ornately carved granite of the hunter’s academy loomed ahead of us, accented in function as much as style with iron and bronze filigree. The metals doubled as the enchantments that made this establishment one of the most secure fortresses in the city. The enchantment absorbed the morning’s light hungrily, glowing proudly despite the competition with the celestial body.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Someone asked from behind me. I turned to see two young men around my age grin slightly at my gawking. They each bore basic bows and quivers, along with hunting knives that had the scars of use along their sheaths. Each man stood tall and proud. From what I could tell, neither possessed anything enchanted. Subconsciously, I adjusted my collar to hide my recent scars and the necklace responsible for them.

“What?” I asked dumbly. They both laughed goodnaturedly. Somewhere ahead of us, a group of finely dressed people guffawed way too loudly at something one of them said.

“The academy is a right pretty thing, ain’t she?” The young man’s companion repeated. I nodded and returned my gaze to the impressive structure.

“It’s quite imposing though,” I admitted more to myself than to make conversation.

“I better hope so. It’s about to house some of the greatest warriors Valoria’s ever seen!” The other man exclaimed boldly. I turned to meet his half grin and determined stance. “That’s us, by the way.”

I laughed, only then realizing how strange the sound felt in my ears.

“I’m Thea.”

“I’m Gavriel, but you can call me Gav. This here is my lesser half, Cassian.” The one on the left with slightly more auburn hair elbowed his sibling in the ribs.

“Call me Cass,” he offered enthusiastically.

“Make way!” A man exclaimed from behind us. We all turned together to see the same entourage of finely dressed humans push past the line with arrogant disregard for those ahead of them.

“Prince James doesn’t wait in lines like some commoner!” One of the young women explained loudly as she hiked up her skirts to follow behind them.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” An elf ahead of me exclaimed. In response, one of the men punched forward with a gauntleted fist so fast I barely registered the movement. The elf doubled over and gasped on all fours. Another man kicked his face aside and the elf slammed against the stony ground with a jarring crack of bone against rock.

“It’s comforting to see people where they belong,” the man in the center declared haughtily as he barely spared a glance for the bloodied elf on the ground. Others ahead of the line parted for the group, save for the sole volunteer already in the middle of getting registered by one of the attendants. It took me a second to place their race, as I had only ever read or heard about them.

A tiefling.

He had raven-black hair and blue skin flecked with gold striations that resembled something between tattoos and the cracks in ancient stone. The tiefling didn’t flinch as nine heavily enchanted humans, one of whom was apparently a prince, glared at his back.

“Move, monster. The prince waits for no one. He will give you the great honor of letting you give up your spot in line. It’s more than your kind deserves, but he is as benevolent as his grandfather,” The man with the enchanted gauntlets commanded.

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“Kiss-ass,” Cassian coughed into his mouth. Everyone else watched the unfolding scene, but I approached the elf and helped him to his feet.

“Thank you,” he offered behind bloody teeth. He spat bitterly on the ground, but made no move to fight the group who’d attacked him. Like me and so many others in line for the Orion division, he didn’t possess any obvious enchantments.

“Perhaps the beast might find the Harvesters a better fit for his talents. I hear your people are quite good at rending flesh, though I can’t seem to recall whether it was when you fuck or when you fight. Hard to tell the difference with you savages,” the prince said nonchalantly. His laughter was even crueler than his words. Still, the tiefling made no movements. He simply waited as the attendee watched, horrified, at the unfolding scene.

I returned to my spot next to Gav and Cass right as the blue-skinned man grabbed the papers from the attendant and signed at the bottom.

“Did you hear me, you foul beast?!” the prince demanded. Even from behind, I could see he was a walking treasure trove of enchantments, all probably in the master and maybe even grandmaster classes. He shoved his friends aside and approached the table where the tiefling was turning to leave. He pulled his arm back and slapped at the horned man. The tiefling dodged with such little effort it was nearly comical. He barely tilted his head as the prince’s hand swished barely past his subtly pointed ears. I caught sight of at least three different piercings along its length, but my attention was drawn once again by movement.

The tiefling lifted one foot. I nearly missed it through the shuffling forms of the stalled line, but I caught it right as the prince over-adjusted and clipped his polished boots against those of his would-be victim. The prince tripped and stumbled headlong into the table.

“Your turn, I guess,” the tiefling responded to the prince before he silently walked around the table. Six guards all in Orion division uniforms stood at attention by the separation between the tables and the gateway into the institute. A few of the prince’s entourage rushed to grab the tiefling, but he was past the guards before they could manage it. And by the stern glares each of them gave, breaking out into a real fight would not end well.

“What’s one of them doing here?” Gav asked me and his sibling. I merely shrugged, my attention lingering on the center of everyone’s attention in our line and several of the others as well. He simply stopped and stood, arms crossed over his lithe chest. Like those ahead in line, he waited by the large iron gates that led deeper into the academy. Two other gates were set into the gargantuan entrance, flanking the central and largest one we were behind.

After a flustered moment, the prince registered, along with all the others in his group—all human, I noticed without too much surprise.

“Name?” The attendant asked me before I knew it.

“Um, Thea Shade?”

“Love the confidence. Papers?” I handed the stern woman a set of documents from my pack. She wore the green uniform of a Fisher, and made it seem like she was born for the role. She checked off several boxes.

“Partied or alone?” She asked next. I was even less prepared for this question.

“Um,” I started, glancing around and realizing many of the other volunteers had arrived in groups. “Alone,” I eventually got out.

“Would you like to register any enchantments at this time? Please know that failure to do so might result in the academy commandeering any items deemed contraband or too volatile for use by cadets,” the woman droned in a monotone. I felt my throat tighten up painfully and so I simply shook my head quickly.

“Uhuh,” she grunted in a skeptical tone but didn’t push the matter. “Every year, there’s always one. Good luck getting booze past the inspectors,” she muttered under her breath. She slid a crisp piece of paper across the stone table at me.

“Sign this. It ensures that your remains are no longer required by law to be retrieved by the hunter academy if deemed a risk to other cadets or personnel. It also acknowledges that any enchantments in your care are your responsibility and might be broken, stolen, reforged, or lost during your time as a cadet. Any legacy items you might have on you are not excluded from this agreement.”

I grabbed the paper and signed easily enough. It wasn’t like I would get my dad’s sword. It belonged to Kaelin, even if my dad didn’t know that anymore. And if they took my amulet, it wouldn’t matter what happened after that.

I joined the other volunteers in front of the iron gate.

“What do you think this exam is going to be?” I heard one girl ask. I turned and saw that she was an elf who stood easily over six feet tall, even as she hunched over slightly.

“Dunno,” a broad shouldered boy with cropped brown hair replied. “They keep everyone pretty tight-lipped about it.”

“I heard they forced all the volunteers for the Orions to kill each other until only ten of them remained. Said it was to make sure only the strongest got in,” the elf whispered. Her eyes fluttered around the gathered students like she expected to recognize someone. I adjusted my pack and walked closer to the iron gates.

A lone figure stood behind them and he approached the bars with the elegant steps of a seasoned fighter. He pressed a series of runes on the metal, and they soon whirred to life. The gate slowly rose up, leaving the man the only thing between us and the tunnel that led into the hunter’s academy.

And the answers I needed.

“Prospects for the Orion division! You are here at your own risk. This is your last chance to leave. If you follow me, your life either ends or begins anew! I will not offer any further mercy, as the monsters we Orions are called to face will not give you such a chance. The other divisions will gladly take your application, no questions asked, but only at this moment. Choose wisely,” The large and muscular man declared in a thick accent not dissimilar from my father’s.

At the end of his short and somber speech, he turned and retreated down the tunnel. There was no fanfare, and I watched as a few people on the periphery of the crowd made to leave. There were a few gasps as parties dissolved even before they had a chance to truly test their metal, and a part of me desperately wanted to join them. For the man was right:

There was no coming back from this.

So it was that—despite my better judgment screaming at me to flee from this kill-school—I walked into the tunnel that led into the Orion division.