PROLOGUE
The Age of Concord
Before the war, the continent of Eldryn was a shared land.
Humans, werewolves, vampires, and mages lived in divided territories bound by trade, uneasy treaties, and a peace that depended on restraint rather than trust. This era would later be remembered as the Age of Concord, when bloodlines coexisted and power remained balanced—fragile, but intact.
That balance shattered when human kingdoms sought dominion over Eldryn's magic-rich soil.
What followed became known as the War of Dominion, a conflict that scarred the land itself. Forests burned into ashfields. Rivers shifted from their beds. Cities fell so completely their names were erased from memory. Magic, once regulated, was unleashed without mercy—and the world paid the price.
Fearing total annihilation, the supernatural races did what they never had before.
They united.
From ancient enemies they became a single force, and when the war ended, the humans were no longer its victors.
To prevent the land's destruction from ever being repeated, the surviving dominions forged Aetherion, a unified kingdom ruled by a single sovereign, its regions divided and controlled to preserve what remained of Eldryn. Peace endured, but it was enforced through law, memory, and fear.
Under this new order, humans fell to the lowest caste, pushed to the edges of the kingdom and stripped of influence.
And from the ashes of war rose an institution meant to ensure that war would never break again.
The Aetherion Royal Academy.
Every generation, the strongest heirs of the dominions would be tested. Only one would rise to claim the throne. Power would no longer be inherited blindly… it would be earned.
Humans, powerless and expendable, were never meant to compete. Yet even systems built to control destiny are not immune to fracture.
Among the dominions, entering the academy was known as a proving ground. Among the humans, getting into the Academy meant something else: hope, a chance at marriage into dominion blood, an escape from poverty. For Sephyra Dorne, an orphan under her stepmother and stepsister's cruelty, it was a chance to finally escape her endless humiliation.
Chapter 1
Dawn had not yet broken, but Sephyra was already awake and cleaning.
The stone floor beneath her knees bit through her thin gown, numbing the skin over her already bruised knees but there was nothing she could do, other than to scrub hard and fast. She couldn't risk Lucinda or Mariselle waking to even a speck of dust.
Her fingers stung as she cleaned, the skin around her knuckles split in places due to her daily routine of waking before dawn, cleaning, cooking, and enduring the cruelty of her stepfamily.
"What's this mess?" The cold feminine voice of her stepsister swallowed the silence, as she took steps further. She got closer to Sephyra and kicked the bucket she was using to clean.
Sephyra's shoulders tensed, as water poured over the freshly cleaned tiles, soaking the hem of her gown, chilling her further.
Mariselle moved back to the doorway, her arms crossed, and her lips curled in disgust. Even at dawn, she wore fine silk… proof of her pampered life.
"I didn't even step foot in here," she began with a mischievous smirk. "And somehow you still manage to mess up everything."
Sephyra kept her head down and picked up the bucket. "I will clean it again."
"Oh, I know you will. This is what you were made for after all."
Sephyra swallowed the anger rising in her throat, still lowering her head. If she dared look up, Mariselle would take it as insolence.
"You worthless wretch, look at me when I talk to you."
Sephyra lifted her gaze slowly, a shiver crawling through her, as her heartbeat fluttered.
Mariselle's eyes gleamed. "The cursed child herself." She crouched down so their faces were inches apart. "You know, it's your fault Father died. Everyone knows it's the curse that you possess that killed him and your stupid mother."
A hot sting welled in Sephyra's eyes, but she didn't say a word.
Yet Mariselle remained dissatisfied. She suddenly stretched forth her hand and grabbed a fistful of Sephyra's hair, yanking her head back sharply. That move sent pain shooting across Sephyra's scalp, it was enough to blur her vision.
"Is that anger I see on your face?" Mariselle hissed. "You dare get angry, ungrateful little witch!"
"No— I —I am not angry," her broken voice came out as a whisper.
"Better," Mariselle's lips formed into a cruel smile and her hands struck Sephyra's chest hard enough to knock her off balance. Sephyra's back collided with the table, knocking over a small bowl that shattered across the floor.
"Oh look at that. You have broken mother's plate again," she tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with delight.
"I didn't mean to…"
Just then, an older lady stormed into the room.
"What? Did you just break my plate?" Lucinda thundered, her legs hurriedly moving to Sephyra. Before Sephyra could explain, she shot her hand out and slammed it heavily across her cheek. The force of the slap knocked Sephyra to the ground, her head spinning.
"You keep destroying things in my house, when you barely offer anything to us," Lucinda continued, her fingers clenched at her sides. Fury flashed in her eyes. "You are basically useless, I wish you died alongside your—"
Sephyra knew what she was about to say and quickly cut in, trying to avoid hearing those hurtful remarks. "Mo—Mother, It wa— was a mis— take—"
Another strike came, harder than the first. It made her head whip to the side.
Lucinda's lips pulled back in disgust. "I have warned you to never address me as 'mother'."
Mariselle sidled up beside her smugly. "Don't mind her, mom. She keeps forgetting that her good-for-nothing mother is rotting seven feet below."
The insult hit harder than any blow. Her jaw clenched, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to stay still. She knew what would happen if she reacted. All she could hope for was that they would get tired and leave her but what she didn't know was that it was far from over.
The raw hatred in Lucinda's eyes increased the moment she noticed the dress that Sephyra was putting on. At once, she grabbed the front of the dress and hauled her up. "What's this? Did you wear your late mom's gown on purpose?" She quizzed, sneering at the brownish-white dress.
"Oh, I knew it," Mariselle paused and continued after Lucinda turned to her. "Mother, she is planning to take part in the Selection. Yes, the selection is the reason she wore the dress."
"Is that true?" Lucinda's head sharply turned back to Sephyra. "You really think an idiot like you would be considered?"
Sephyra shook her head frantically. "No. I—I only wore it because my dress is torn."
"You could have mended it!" Mariselle snapped.
"I didn't have a needle—"
A hard shove silenced her.
"She's lying, mother. She plans to get into the Academy."
"Imagine it! A filthy human like her stepping inside the Academy walls. They'd toss her out in a heartbeat."
"Or kill her on sight," Lucinda added. "This is my fault, I should have thrown this misfortune out of our house a long time ago."
Sephyra's chest tightened with an old, familiar grief. Her eyes burned, but she kept them lowered. It was a small miracle she didn't burst into tears.
Lucinda pushed her backward, making her slip and stumble into the spilled water. Her hands shot out for support and unfortunately caught the corner of the fireplace, which made pain shoot through her palm where old burns had barely healed.
Mariselle scoffed, delighted by the fear trembling through Sephyra. "Why are you shaking like a leaf? Are you cold, little mouse? Or are you just afraid? You should be. More reason you shouldn't think of going to places with bigger personalities. The world out there won't pity you."
Lucinda glared down. "Stop wasting time on this trash, Mariselle. Get ready. You have to look perfect before the Dominion scouts arrive."
"Don't worry about that, mom. I'm dressed already. Just need a few makeovers," she immediately replied, excitement replacing cruelty. "But do you think they'll notice me? The heirs, I mean."
"Of course they will," Lucinda said warmly. "You're the Dorne heiress, sexy, pretty and kind. They'd be fools not to want you."
She shot Sephyra a cold look. "Unlike this one who isn't even fit to be called human."
Sephyra lowered her head further, wishing she could disappear or melt into the floor.
Around that time, the distant sound of horns cut through making Lucinda and Mariselle freeze.
The Dominion scouts had arrived.
Mariselle squealed in excitement. "They're here! Mother, they're here!"
As for Sephyra, her heart began to race, not with hope, but with dread. The truth was that she had hoped to participate, but now that her stepfamily were against it, there was no point getting her hopes up.
Lucinda spun toward her. "Get out of my sight and stay hidden till the scouts are gone. If anyone sees you, I swear I'll—"
A heavy knock thundered against the front door.
Lucinda cursed under her breath and stormed toward the entryway. "Mariselle, go to your room now, apply make-up and show more cleavage."
Mariselle ran.
Sephyra remained there, Lucinda gave her a venomous glare. "What are you still doing here? Get to the back or…."
She didn't need to finish the threat. Sephyra hurried into the narrow hallway, pressing herself against the shadows. She heard voices at the entrance, the deep clank of armor and the measured steps of Dominion soldiers.
—
"My daughter is here," Lucinda announced immediately as Mariselle returned to the living room.
A tall lady draped in dark robes moved forward, her eyes glowed with an eerie pale blue light and her face was expressionless.
She looked at Mariselle for a while, then her eyes shifted. "Is there another girl in this home?"
Mariselle looked at her mother, urging her with a small nudge to deny it but Lucinda's lips pressed together, calculating quickly. She knew a few things about witches; how they could perceive the faintest trace of life, therefore telling a lie would be seen through.
"Yes… There is but this is the Dorne heiress," she replied with a fake smile, moving closer to Mariselle. "The other girl is a mere servant."
"Bring her."
The witch's cold voice rang out. There was a pause and hesitation from Lucinda but she ended up storming into the hallway.
She got to where Sephyra was hiding and her fingers wrapped around Sephyra's arm, her nails piercing into the poor girl's skin as she gasped.
"They've requested for you. Act like a fool, say nothing and keep your head down, no matter what. If you ruin Mariselle's chances, I'll make sure you never see daylight again."
With that, she dragged Sephyra to the doorway and pushed her forward. "This is her," she said quickly, "but she's useless and weak. Her talent begins and ends with cleaning, nothing more. She is not fit for the Academy, she won't survi—"
The witch didn't even look at Lucinda. Her cold gaze remained fixed on Sephyra, whose white hair was streaked with dust and grime that fell in tangled strands.
"Both of the girls have been chosen."
Mariselle's voice rang out. "What?"
One of the soldiers, who had been standing close to her, chipped in. "But Mariselle is the Dorne heiress. This other one is nothing. She is filthy and will only shame the Academy." His tone suggested familiarity, a subtle hint of interest in Mariselle.
With no warning, the witch turned to him and spoke two words: "Get them."
Lucinda froze.
Mariselle choked on her breath.
Sephyra's heart stopped entirely.
The witch walked away and the Dominion soldiers stepped forward immediately, seizing both girls by the arms.
Before the soldiers could lead the girls out, Lucinda roughly grabbed Sephyra's arm and whispered, "Do not dare to hope. The tests will devour you long before you pass them. After you return home, I'll make sure you get the punishment you deserve."