Eila stepped through the towering doors of the East Wing, her nerves buzzing beneath her skin. A uniformed warrior stood guard at the entrance, blocking her path with an outstretched hand.
"Name?" he asked curtly.
"Eila Johnson," she replied.
He scanned the scroll in his hands, found her name, and gave her a small nod before motioning her inside. As she crossed the threshold, another warrior was already waiting just past the door. Upon hearing her name, he silently turned and led her down a dim corridor to one of the examination rooms.
The room resembled an old warrior classroom—long wooden benches, solid stone walls, and faint markings etched into the chalkboard from lessons past. It smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and discipline. Several other students were already seated, mostly male wolves from various corners of the pack.
Eila took her seat at the very front, her shoulders straight and jaw set. She was the only female in the room.
The disparity struck her. It was disheartening how few she-wolves still pursued education or training, preferring to remain confined to traditional roles. A pang of gratitude bloomed in her chest. She silently thanked the Moon Goddess for giving her the strength—and a family—that believed in her.
The door creaked open again, and a stern-looking man strode in, his presence commanding immediate silence. Without a word, he placed a heavy stack of parchments on the front table. A flick of his hand sent the papers into the air, distributing them neatly across desks with the help of a soft, shimmering burst of magic.
Eila reached into her satchel, pulling out her pen and ink. Students had been asked to bring their own writing tools, and she was prepared.
The examiner turned toward the board, and with another wave of his hand, glowing letters began to scrawl themselves across it—five comprehensive questions in neat, gleaming script.
"You have three hours," he announced, his voice clipped and cool. "Begin."
Eila took a deep breath and got to work. Her mind focused, her hand moved swiftly and steadily across the parchment. She let the flow of her knowledge guide her, ignoring the silent stares and the occasional sniff of derision from others.
Still, her mind betrayed her briefly. A fleeting image of her parents lying in the infirmary crept into her thoughts.
Not now, she told herself firmly.
She pushed the worry away and focused on the task before her. These exams were a stepping stone. If she wanted to help them, to understand the truth about the Varium, she needed to succeed today.
Two and a half hours passed in a blur of ink and concentration. By the end, her parchment was filled with elegant handwriting, each answer crafted with care and precision. She reviewed every word twice, ensuring there were no errors. Satisfied at last, she laid her pen aside and sat back quietly.
From the front of the room, the examiner glanced up and frowned. He noticed her sitting idle, seemingly having given up while the others were still hard at work.
With a sigh, he approached her desk. "How many questions were you able to answer?" he asked, his tone tinged with pity.
Eila simply smiled and handed him her parchment.
He took it and gave it a cursory glance—then stopped. His eyes darted back and forth, reading each answer more thoroughly now. His brows furrowed in disbelief.
She hadn't just attempted all the questions—she had answered every single one, and she had done so flawlessly.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Eila simply sat there, calm and composed.
She had come prepared.