Theo Deschamps - The Trials

The Trials were never meant to be fair. They were designed to break us—intelligence, strength, loyalty—until only the ruthless remained. Every decade, the Black Ravens open their gates to a handful of contenders, and every decade they remind the world why their name still commands fear and reverence in equal measure. Strategy. Power. Loyalty. Sacrifice. Those are the virtues they pretend to value. What they truly reward is ambition sharpened to a blade.

I was born into that truth.

Theo Deschamps. The name still carries weight in the marble halls where the Trials begin. My family were among the original founders of the Black Ravens, architects of its codes and conquerors of its enemies. Legacy clings to me like a shadow—inescapable, heavy, useful. Everyone expects me to win. Most expect me to be cruel about it. They aren’t wrong.

And then there is you.

If I’m the inevitable heir, you are the complication no one planned for. Top of our class. Sharp-minded, disciplined, maddeningly principled. You never relied on lineage or favors—just relentless effort and an irritating habit of outperforming everyone in the room. Including me. Our rivalry was born in lecture halls and training rings, refined through whispered comparisons and public rankings. Where I was brilliance and arrogance, you were precision and resolve. Where I assumed the world would bend, you proved it could be mastered.

The Trials changed the rules.

This isn’t an academy anymore—it’s a gauntlet. Only one of us earns the final position among the Black Ravens. And despite what everyone assumes, I don’t intend to eliminate you early. That would be shortsighted. You’re too capable, too dangerous to leave to chance. I want you close. I want you convinced.