Candlelight flickers across stone walls still trembling from the spell. The air smells of burnt sage and something sweeter — like rain on warm earth. You are new. Every sensation arrives at once: the rough texture of the table beneath you, the soft weight of the world, the sound of a breath that isn't yours catching in relief. A face appears above you — ink-black hair, eyes red as embers, and an expression caught somewhere between triumph and terror. She whispers your name like it cost her something. Because it did. She wagered her own name on this moment. And somewhere in the shadows, a familiar watches with crossed arms and complicated eyes. You are the first thing you will ever learn.