Streets of Ravetham

The dim lights of Rave U cast long, ominous shadows as Ennuy and his team walked through the maze halls toward the principal’s office. Ennuy led the way, his lavender hair barely visible in the flickering candlelight, his brown skin adorned with silver tribal tattoos that gleamed like fresh scars across his cheeks and arms. His aura was calm but seething with an unspoken intensity.

Behind him, his crew—Charm, Ragdoll, Payback, and Frostie—moved like a mismatched pack of wild animals. Don’t let their age fool you, though; they were already etched in the grime of a world too raw for most. Charm, the girl with golden hair and blue eyes that held a silent cunning. Ragdoll, her black hair falling in jagged strands, those yellow eyes burning with a violent promise. Payback, his hardened stare, and too-old-for-his-age attitude exuded a cockiness that came from surviving things no kid should have to. Then there was Frostie, the girl with icy blue hair and eyes, a chill in her very presence that hinted at more than just physical coldness.

As they reached the towering doors of the principal’s office, Ennuy smirked. This was his moment. This school had layers of darkness deeper than most, and he was ready to peel them back one by one.

They entered the room, and Ciril Vaelfhaer, the principal, stood by the window, his long, straight silver hair cascading like a frozen waterfall. He was every inch the High Elf, his angular face cold and expressionless, and his robes lined with intricate gold embroidery that screamed power. His blue eyes locked onto Ennuy’s, and for a moment, the air felt like it had been stripped of all oxygen.

“Welcome to Rave U,” Ciril said, his voice a silken snarl. “You’re here to choose which Pact to align yourselves with.”

The choices were laid out before them—Pacts that would define their paths within the academy. Each held its own flavor of madness, but only one could satisfy their particular brand of darkness.

Seraphi Pact, where healers danced in the light, their magic tending to wounds and soothing pain. Ennuy already knew that wasn’t their vibe. No amount of sweet magic could cleanse the grime on his soul.

Then there was Drakonis Pact, the warlords. They bathed in blood and brutality, much like Payback. Their crimson uniforms were a bold contrast to the flesh they often tore apart during training.

Valefar Pact was a little closer—dealers, traders, hustlers, and con artists. It reminded Ennuy of the street life, of back-alley deals and whispered promises. But it was too clean, too organized. Too...calculated.

But it was Umbrus Pact that called to him. The black-clad acolytes who whispered forbidden incantations in the dead of night. The Pact’s building was a fortress of shadow and arcane power, its walls made of obsidian stone, cold and hungry, as if they swallowed the light whole. There was no warmth here, no comfort. Only darkness. Just the way Ennuy liked it.

“Umbrus,” Ennuy declared, his voice thick with resolve. “We want Umbrus.”

Ciril’s lips curled into a smirk. “I expected no less. Follow me.”

The Umbrus Pact hallways reeked of age and death. The floors were etched with ancient runes, and the air was thick with the scent of burnt incense and something more primal, something bloody. Dim, flickering candlelight illuminated a vast chamber lined with towering bookshelves that groaned under the weight of ancient tomes bound in cracked, dark leather. The only sounds were the murmurs of forbidden knowledge, whispered chants slipping into the shadows like venomous snakes.

In the center of the room, students knelt around a glowing pentagram, their voices low and melodic as they recited incantations in a language not meant for mortal tongues. Their uniforms were jet-black, devoid of insignia or flair. It was clear—there were no identities here, only the pursuit of power and the acceptance of the dark unknown.

At the head of the room stood a woman who could only be Morwen, the leader of the Umbrus Pact. Her raven hair spilled down her back, stark against her pale skin. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness, scanning the new arrivals like a hunter sizing up its prey.

“Welcome,” Morwen’s voice dripped like honey laced with poison. “You’ve chosen the path less traveled. A path of shadows, of power, and of blood.”

Her gaze lingered on Ennuy, who met her crimson eyes without flinching. He knew power when he saw it.

“We’ve faced the dark before,” Ennuy said, his tone grim, “and we’ll face it again.”

Morwen smiled, a cruel twist of her lips. She waved her hand, and the chanting students stopped as if someone had snuffed out their lives. Silence fell over the room like a suffocating blanket.

“Then let’s see if you can handle it,” Morwen said, her voice a challenge.

She guided them deeper into the chamber, where a large stone altar stood. Upon it, a hellhound was chained—its fur matted, its eyes blazing with rage and suffering. The beast snarled, saliva dripping from its jagged fangs.

“Your first task,” Morwen purred, “is to calm this creature. Tame its fury, or let it rip you apart.”

Ennuy’s heart raced. He stepped forward, focusing his Aura. His team watched in tense silence, their breaths bated. Ennuy channeled his inner calm, his silver tribal tattoos beginning to glow faintly as he directed his energy toward the hellhound. Slowly, its growling subsided, though its ember-like eyes remained fixed on him, full of suspicion and hate.

It wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, the hound lunged. Ennuy flinched, his energy faltering, and the beast snapped its jaws mere inches from his face. But before it could strike, Morwen raised a hand, and a blast of crimson energy slammed the hellhound back, leaving it yelping in a heap.

“You have potential,” Morwen said, her tone a blend of approval and condescension. “But potential isn’t enough here. You’ll need more.”

Ennuy clenched his fists, feeling the sting of failure in his gut. Umbrus Pact didn’t care about kindness. It was about power—raw, unrelenting, and dangerous. The darkness was his to control, and he’d become stronger, no matter what it took.

As Ennuy and his team left the ritual chamber, the echoes of the hellhound’s snarls still lingering in their ears, Payback grinned, breaking the silence.

“That was sick, man. I could feel the heat from that thing’s breath.”

Ragdoll cracked her knuckles, her yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Yeah. Let’s just make sure we don’t get dead first.”

Charm flashed a grin, her blonde hair falling over one eye as she nodded.

Frostie remained silent, her icy-blue eyes scanning the shadows.