The courtyard of the academy buzzed with noise as students gathered in neat formations. Sunlight streamed down on polished stone, banners of the great houses fluttering overhead. Supervisors stood at the front with tablets of crystal, ready to read names.
"House Ignis… Faction Pyrelight."
"House Gilgamesh… Faction Dragon's Crest."
"House Sylwen… Faction Silverthorn."
Each name echoed with pride, cheers rising from their students.
At the back of the crowd, Kairo stood with arms folded, crimson eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Beside him, Riven's hand rested on his blade, expression unreadable. They didn't blend—they stood apart, drawing whispers like moths to flame.
Finally, the supervisor reached the bottom of his list. His brows furrowed. He blinked at the name glowing faintly on the crystal, as if the stone itself were mocking him.
"…Faction…" he coughed, eyes darting toward the headmaster in disbelief. "…Faction Eclipse."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut air. Students leaned in, murmurs breaking out.
"Eclipse?"
"Never heard of it."
"Whose house claims them?"
The supervisor swallowed hard, lips twitching in distaste. "…Students Kairo, and Riven."
Whispers erupted into laughter. Some sneered. Others shook their heads. To be nameless in a world of bloodlines and banners was to be nothing at all.
But Kairo's face never changed. Riven only smirked, resting his sword against his shoulder. The weight of ridicule rolled past them like wind against stone.
The supervisor clicked his tongue, quickly moving on to the next faction—desperate to bury the anomaly in routine.
But Eclipse's name had already burned itself into the academy that day.