The arena of echoes had never been so quiet.
The trial grounds spanned a sunken stone amphitheater, encircled by cliffs carved with centuries of names, Lunas crowned, Alphas burned, traitors flayed, and kings forgotten. The whispers of past judgments were said to linger in the walls, like breath trapped in stone.
Thousands of shifters gathered in solemn circles, seated in tiers that curved like a waiting mouth. Noble bloodlines filled the highest balconies. Warriors occupied the mid-rings, dressed in leather, steel, and ceremonial bone. The outermost rings swarmed with the restless, unmated wolves, youngbloods, and factions loyal to either crown or chaos.
At the center, a raised stone platform awaited. Magnolia stood upon it.
