[MARK POV]
At seventeen, the world finally started to feel both bigger and smaller at the same time. Bigger, because I had begun to learn what lay beyond Ravenclaw's gates. Smaller, because no matter how wide Etherya stretched, the truth was simple: clans ruled it, and Ravenclaw was one of the strongest.
Etherya was not just a land of kingdoms and empires. It was a land of clans. Some belonged to great empires, some worked in their shadows, and some—like ours—stood alone.
The Ravenclaw Clan had always stood among the proud warrior clans of the Human Domain. Our symbol, the black raven with silver wings, was carved on every gate, shield, and banner. To the world outside, it was a warning. To us, it was a promise.
Clans were more than bloodlines. They were realms. Each strong clan possessed its own pocket dimension, a world folded within the greater one. That was our greatest shield. Armies could march across Etherya, empires could rise and fall, but our realm was untouchable.
I had stood at its edge once, staring at the faint, shimmering curtain that separated Ravenclaw's lands from the void. It was like watching sunlight dance on water—beautiful, but endless and terrifying. Beyond it, nothing. Within it, everything that was ours.
Papa always said it best:
"Empires demand taxes. Kings demand loyalty. But no crown rules within our realm. Ravenclaw is Ravenclaw—independent, unbent, and unbroken."
He said it with that stern tone, the kind that made Kael puff up his chest and me quietly nod.
Papa liked to remind us that not every clan bent the knee to their empire. Some were too strong, too proud, or simply too stubborn.
The lesson was clear though. Clans were families, armies, realms, and nations all at once. Some empires could command them, but the strongest clans ruled themselves. And Ravenclaw was counted among those strongest.
If Papa taught us pride, Mama taught us mystery.
One evening, while Kael and I were pretending to study (which meant I was reading and Kael was doodling knights fighting dragons), she walked in with that serene smile that always carried more wisdom than she ever said aloud.
"You boys think too much about strength," she said, smoothing Kael's wild hair. "Awakening is not about what you want. It is about what you are."
Kael grinned. "I'll Awaken as the greatest warrior in history!"
Mama chuckled softly. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you will Awaken as a healer, or a mage, or a bard with nothing but a harp."
Kael groaned. "A bard? That's worse than being a farmer!"
I asked quietly, "So… we can't choose?"
Her green eyes softened, and she shook her head. "No. Awakening is a mirror. It shows the truth of your soul. You may train with the sword and Awaken as an archer. You may practice healing and Awaken as a berserker. No one knows until the moment comes."
Kael slumped in his chair. "So all my training is useless?"
"You will find," Mama said, tapping his nose, "that nothing learned is ever wasted. Awakening may surprise you, but it never cheats you. Everything you know will still guide the path you are given."
Then, with a mischievous smile, she added, "Even if your path is with a spoon."
Kael gawked. "A spoon?!"
I laughed so hard I nearly fell out of my chair.
Through Papa's lessons and clan records, we also learned of the other great human clans.
There was the Stormfang Clan, masters of lightning magic and spear combat. Quick, deadly, and arrogant. Kael swore he'd beat one of their heirs in a duel someday.
The Ironveil Clan, famous for their assassins and spies. Papa warned us never to underestimate them—if you noticed an Ironveil, it was already too late.
And the Goldspire Clan, rich beyond measure, controlling trade routes and merchants. They didn't fight with swords. They fought with coin.
Each clan ruled its own realm, standing apart yet bound by the fragile thread of the Human Domain. Wars had broken out in the past, and no doubt would again. That was the way of Etherya.
Ravenclaw, though, was not easily challenged. Few clans wanted to test a warrior clan with centuries of victories carved into its name.
Seventeen was a frustrating age. Too old to be a child, too young to be Awakened.
Kael handled it by talking endlessly about his future glory. One day, he'd be a warrior with a flaming sword. The next, he'd be a dragon-rider. The day after that, he claimed he'd invent a new class entirely: "Sword Mage of Eternal Justice."
Papa nearly spat his drink hearing that. "That's not even a real thing."
Kael only grinned. "It will be after I Awaken!"
I, on the other hand, found myself quieter. Not withdrawn, but thoughtful. What if I Awakened into something unexpected? What if my path didn't lead me to protect my family the way I wanted?
Mama always answered with the same gentle wisdom. "Mark, whatever path comes, you will walk it well. Because Awakening does not change who you are. It only reveals it."
That comforted me more than I admitted.
Looking Ahead
So we trained, studied, and dreamed. Every day brought us closer to eighteen, to Awakening, to stepping into the unknown.
Kael joked. Papa drilled us. Mama guided us. And through it all, Ravenclaw's banners flew high, black ravens spread against silver skies, reminding us that we were heirs to one of the greatest clans of the Human Domain.
What lay ahead, I didn't know. But I knew this: whatever Awakening brought, whether sword or spell, flame or feather, Kael and I would face it together.
Because that was what it meant to be Ravenclaw.
And more than that—it was what it meant to be family.