When an Ashborn is deemed ready, the masters summon them to the Chamber of Black Ice, a cathedral-like hollow beneath Thaloras Fortress. The chamber is ringed with frozen statues — former initiates who failed the rite, their bodies preserved in frost as eternal warnings.
The initiate kneels before the five Obsidian Blades, each representing one of the founding kings. A ceremonial obsidian dagger is placed in their hand. Then, the initiate must sever the last tie to their old life:
A lock of hair, if they cling to vanity.
A finger, if they cling to flesh.
The name of a loved one, spoken aloud before it is erased from all memory within the fortress.
The meaning is simple: to walk forward, you must burn the bridge behind.
Once the severance is made, the initiate is led into the Veil Hall — a spiraling maze carved from obsidian, lit only by shifting auroras through cracks in the ice. Here, the Silent stalk them. The task is to pass unseen, unheard, and unbroken until they reach the far end.
Failure means death at the hands of the Silent. Success means awakening to their new identity.
At the maze’s end, the initiate is cast into the Hollow Glacier — a frozen valley beneath the fortress where an apex predator has been released. Each initiate faces a different beast: a lycan chained in silver, a dragon whelp, or sometimes even a fellow Ashborn declared unworthy.
The initiate carries no weapons but the obsidian dagger from their severance. To survive, they must kill and consume part of the beast. Eating the heart or drinking its blood binds them, marking the moment they stop being human prey and become predators.
If they return alive, they are brought to the Crown Tower. There, in a circle of fire and frost, a Veil is forged for them: a mask of volcanic obsidian infused with shards of their slain beast’s remains.
The mask is bound to them through a blood sigil. Removing it outside of sacred ritual is forbidden.
Its surface begins smooth, but as they live, kill, and bleed, cracks form naturally. These fractures are sacred — a living record of their hunts and scars.
From this moment forward, their birth name is erased. They are known only by a Predator Name, chosen by the Blades. These names are primal, short, and feared: Fang, Vulture, Serpent, Shade, Frost, Ember.
No Veiled is considered “real” until they complete the First Hunt — a mission beyond Thaloras. Sometimes it is assassination, sometimes sabotage, sometimes the culling of a supernatural threat. Always, the initiate is sent alone.
When they return, they do not rejoin their peers. They kneel before the Blades, who place an obsidian brand across their chest. From this moment forward, they are a Veiled Operative — no longer child, no longer student, but weapon.
The final trial is not about victory — it is about becoming something new. Those who survive are not merely skilled; they are unrecognizable from who they were before:
Their bodies: scarred, hardened, and carrying fragments of the beast they slew.
Their minds: purged of hesitation, trained to see survival and predation in every moment.
Their souls: bound to the creed. No family, no crown, no nation. Only the Hand.
The Fortress whispers of them differently afterward. Ashborn see them as shadows. The Silent acknowledge them with nods. And to the Blades, they are no longer children — they are brothers and sisters in the eternal hunt.