Back in the Dolorian Dorm, the announcement of the Gauntlet had transformed the atmosphere. I relayed Professor Thorkelssoon's words to Yue, and his eyes, usually so lighthearted, immediately shifted to a serious, focused gaze. Selyra and Thoden mirrored his gravity. "So, training begins, huh?" Yue declared, a determined glint in his eyes.
Then, a question that had been nagging me finally surfaced. "I'm curious," I began, my voice a little hesitant, "why are there no second-year students in this academy? Everyone I've met is either a first-year or a third-year."
Selyra shot Yue a warning glance, subtly shaking her head, her pale blue eyes wide with an unspoken plea, clearly signaling him not to speak. But Yue, ever the quintessential Dolorian, simply ignored her. A faint, almost pained smile touched his lips, and his gaze swept over us, his first-years, his family. "I can't hide anything from my family," he stated, his characteristic grin returning, but now tinged with a profound, solemn edge.
We all leaned in, the air thick with unspoken questions. Even Henry, who usually remained detached, seemed to hold his breath, his eyes fixed on Yue, his customary scowl replaced by a look of raw, unmasked curiosity. Gianna's hand instinctively went to her mouth, her eyes wide with apprehension. Yor's stoic expression remained, but her gaze sharpened, missing nothing. Jove, for once, was utterly silent, his usual boisterousness replaced by a rare stillness.
"The ones who should be prefects and taking care of first-years are normally the second-years," Yue explained, his voice losing all trace of its usual cheer, becoming low and heavy, laden with a burden he rarely showed. "But this year is different. We third-years have to take care of you, as there are no second-years in any dorm." He continued, a wistful, almost melancholic smile touching his lips as he remembered. "Yes, I did take care of them when I was a second-year, and they were first-years, just like you guys. They were misfits, just like us, but they spent a week to finish the wolves trial." He chuckled, but the sound was hollow, devoid of true humor. "But they were strong. Maybe the strongest team I've ever seen in Dolorian history. Better than us, and better than you, if we're talking about teamwork. They were truly close, not close like you with Selyra and Gianna, though," he teased, nudging me playfully, a fleeting attempt to lighten the mood before his expression sobered again, the wistfulness replaced by a grim memory. "But family close. Inseparable."
"Then one day, the Gauntlet started," Yue recounted, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet it filled the room with chilling clarity. "They went into the portal. They were all ready. We had trained them, and we knew the Gauntlet, having gone through it ourselves as first-years. But it turned out that year's Gauntlet was different. It was... wrong."
His eyes grew distant, unfocused, recalling the traumatic event, as if he were reliving it. "Every single first-year from every single dorm came out of that portal. We cheered for them, our hearts bursting with pride, but then... they emerged. Their eyes were blank, completely devoid of light or recognition, like empty pools. Some of them screamed, a high-pitched, guttural sound that still haunts my nightmares. Their clothes were torn and messy, their bodies scratched and bruised. Some fainted the moment they hit the ground. Others just shrieked, over and over, 'He is coming! He is coming!' their voices raw with an unseen terror." A shiver ran through our group, a collective intake of breath. Gianna's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. Jove's face, usually so expressive, was pale and still, his usual boisterousness completely absent. Yor's stoic mask seemed to crack, a faint tremor in her jaw, her gaze fixed on Yue with an intensity that demanded more answers. Henry's eyes, however, were already filled with a profound, aching dread, his hands clenching into fists.
"After that," Yue continued, his voice grim, "every single one of them resigned from the academy. Their eyes were still blank when we took them out. We tried to ask them what happened, to reach them, but every time we asked, they would just scream, a primal, guttural shriek, 'It's dark! Help me! Don't let me go there again!' It was like their minds had been shattered, their spirits broken." He paused, letting the chilling revelation sink in, his own gaze now haunted. "So, that's why there are no second-years in any dorm."
"But one Dolorian Dorm student never came out," Yue's voice dropped to a whisper, filled with a raw, personal pain. "He looks like Henry, but his bind is incredibly rare. They say it's a Necro bind. I don't know the details. His name is Louis von Gallahad."
Henry, who had been listening intently, his body rigid, simply nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes that spoke of a long-held grief. "Louis von Gallahad is his older brother," he confirmed quietly, his voice strained.
"Some said he's stuck in there, some said he's dead," Yue concluded, his voice heavy, his gaze distant, lost in the memory of a lost friend.
"Why didn't anyone go to get him?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat, the horror of it all settling over me.
"The Gauntlet portal only opens for first-years," Yue explained, a frustrated, helpless edge to his voice. "We tried to get in, we prefect, we tried everything, but we couldn't. Merlin made it so specific. And with no Arcane Bind in play, no one really understands the mechanics of that portal anymore. Even Kaynari scholars, the brightest minds in Eldorian, just call it 'pseudo-science,' a mystery beyond their comprehension."