<h4>Chapter 209: Endless White</h4>


    The Svalbard Airport stood like a quiet sentinel at the edge of the Arctic, where the mountains leaned close to the sea and the wind carried the taste of salt and ice. Its runway stretched in a dark, unwavering line across ground that never truly thawed, reinforced by gravel and instion against the restless shift of permafrost beneath. On one side, the fjordy still, a sheet of steel-blue water that mirrored the sky in summer and froze into pale ss in the long winter. On the other, mountains rose abruptly, their slopes draped in snow that glowed with a pale fire in the endless twilight.


    Eleanor descended the steps of her Gulfstream, the metal still humming faintly with the memory of flight. Her boots struck the tarmac with a muted echo, instantly swallowed by the vastness around her. The air was so sharp it stung, filling her lungs with a precision she had never known elsewhere. She paused at the base of the stairs, her gaze sweeping across the fjord where water shivered with silver under the reluctant sun. For a moment, she felt as though she stood at the edge of the world... and perhaps she did.


    The mountains loomed like sentinels of stone and snow, dwarfing the airport and making the jet behind her seem like nothing more than a toy abandoned on a giant’s floor. She drew her coat tighter, not merely against the cold, but against the humbling sense that thisndscape had no need of her presence. The runway did not lead toward a city or promise of progress, but directly into silence.


    She let the stillness sink into her. It was not empty, but alive... the groan of ice shifting, the distant cry of a seabird, the whisper of wind threading through the valley. Time itself seemed slower here, reluctant to disturb the fragile bnce of stone, snow, and sea.


    Then, her vision sharpened. The golden rity around her intensified until the world seemed to hesitate, caught in amber light. She realised, with a sudden chill, that her bloodline had activated.


    The Elizabeth bloodline carried the power of mind. When awakened, their thoughts surged into overdrive. The world did not truly slow, yet their perception elerated until every motion, every flicker of expression unfolded with crystalline rity. In battle, this gift made an Elizabeth unstoppable. They could read an opponent’s intent before the attack began, exploit every weakness, and strike with merciless precision. To onlookers, such encounters seemed like massacres... swift, one-sided, inevitable.


    But the bloodline bore its curse. Alongside rity came bloodlust, an aura that spilled outward, impossible to hide. Inbat it was a weapon, enough to paralyse foes with dread. In peace, it was a hazard... an involuntary predator’s scent, stirring fear even in allies. Eleanor had learned to live under constant caution, guarding her mind from slipping too far.


    She froze at the base of the stairs, wrestling the impulse back, forcing the bloodline to stillness. Yet the surge had already escaped. Behind her, Ophelia faltered, her knees buckling. Kiara caught her swiftly, preventing her from tumbling down the steps.


    As a Raynor, Kiara was untouched by the aura, but her instincts sharpened. She looked about, expecting an attack, trying to trace what had unsettled Ophelia so badly. Then she saw them.


    Two figures approached from the right... tall, bronze-skinned men, their frames broad and unyielding, their presence heavy with restrained power. Their pace was steady, unhurried, yet the air seemed to bend subtly around them.


    They halted a few metres away, one holding a shiny tablet, the other holding a Hybrid Infrared 3D Scanner. Eleanor steadied herself, forcing her bloodline back under strict control before turning to face them. She already knew what they were... Dragons.


    One of the men tilted his head slightly, his voice deep and edged with amusement. "Such strong bloodlust, and at such a young age. You are... interesting." His eyes glimmered briefly, like molten gold beneath the surface. "We are from the Midgard Academy. Those of you who came to enrol... please step forward. We need to confirm your identities before proceeding."


    Eleanor nced at Kiara and Ophelia, both of whom had regainedposure and now stood shoulder to shoulder. She stepped forward alone, closing the distance until only a metre separated her from the towering figures. "All three of us are here to join the academy," she said evenly.


    The man with the scanner began sweeping her from toe to head, the device emitting faintyers of light across her frame. He lingered over her eyes, studying them with deliberate precision. The other dragon looked at his tablet, then spoke in a tone more formal than curious.


    "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Age twenty-nine. Race: Werewolf. Is that correct?"


    Eleanor met his gaze without flinching. "Correct."


    "Good. Please step aside. Next."


    She moved to the side as Kiara came forward, her expression calm, her posture disciplined. The scanner repeated its silent work. The dragon with the tablet read aloud, "Kiara Raynor. Age thirty-four. Race: Werewolf. Confirm?"


    "Confirmed," Kiara replied with a short nod.


    Finally, Ophelia approached. The scan ended quickly this time.


    "Ophelia nc. Age thirty-seven. Race: Werewolf. Correct?"


    "Yes," Ophelia said quietly.


    The dragon’s gaze swept across the three of them before he closed the scanner with a faint click. "Then please bid farewell to your family members. You have five minutes. After that, we will escort you to your next transport."


    Eleanor reached into her coat, drew out her phone, and dialled swiftly. cing it against her ear, she spoke with calm precision. "I will be leaving now. Return to Manchester and report directly to Teresa. She will manage everything while I am away."


    She ended the call without waiting for reply, sliding the phone back into her pocket. Turning once more to the dragons, her voice was steady. "We are ready. Please lead the way."


    Both men smiled faintly. One of them nodded his head. "Very well. Follow us."


    They turned, walking with unhurried steps toward the far side of the airport. Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia trailed behind them.


    One of the men spoke as they walked, his voice carrying easily over the thrum of the wind. "You will board a helicopter to your destination. Each helicopter carries ten cadets at a time. Seven have already boarded. Once you three are added, we can dispatch this group to the academy."


    He paused, then added with deliberate rity, "You may still use your phones if you need to make a call. Once you board the helicopter, however, there will be no more time for such things. All phones andmunication devices will be stored away before you enter the academy. I hope you are prepared for this."


    Eleanor lifted up her head. "Thank you. We were informed by our elders."


    The man gave a faint smile. "Good. Your n has done well to prepare you. Not all are so fortunate. There are always some who arrive without knowing the protocol. Many turn up with parents and family, thinking farewells are permitted at the gates. It happens every batch. But you already know the basics. Once you arrive at the academy office in Kvernheim, you will be given aplete guideline."


    As he spoke, they came to a waiting helicopter. One of the dragons pointed to the open door. "Please, step inside. The pilot is ready to fly."


    Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia climbed aboard. Three seats remained behind the cockpit, as though waiting precisely for them. Two men sat in front... both dragons, Eleanor sensed immediately; seven others filled the rows behind... four werewolves, a vampire, a merfolk, and a werecat. Male and female mixed, their eyes flicking curiously to the neers. No words passed between them as Eleanor and herpanions buckled themselves in and donned their headsets.


    The door mped shut. The pilot’s voice came through the headgear, calm and clipped. "Cadets, please prepare. The flight will take approximately half an hour. If you require anything, hold it until we reach our destination."


    The helicopter lifted, thunder rolling in its des, carrying them away from the edges of civilisation into the stark, white vastness of the Arctic.


    ***


    Half an hourter, it descended upon what seemed a boundless sheet of ice... nothing but white, stretching without end, swallowing horizon and sky alike. The rotors slowed, their roar thinning into a hollow silence until only a faint whine remained.


    The pilots disembarked first, boots biting into the brittle crust. One swung open the cabin door, and the cold rushed in like a living force, sharp enough to sting the skin. "Please get down," he said.


    One by one the cadets stepped down, breath streaming into the air as pale ghosts. Around them was the perfect emptiness of an endless white desert. The ground was solid ice but felt strange beneath their feet, and as they looked around in confusion, a quiet unease rippled among them. How could there be anding point in such a ce?


    The two dragons moved a few paces aside. Then they lifted their hands and began to chant. The sound was low, resonant, and alien, vibrating through the air until even the ice seemed to tremble in sympathy. Their gestures were deliberate, carving patterns through space as though inscribing runes into an unseen fabric.


    At the chant’s crescendo, the air itself seemed to tear... not violently, but with the rippling shimmer of a veil disturbed. From nothing, a gate unfolded, its frame traced in lines of silver and violet, radiating an unearthly luminescence. It hung there impossibly in the frozen desert, a door without walls, opening onto a faint light that beckoned beyond.


    "Cadets," one of the pilots said, his voice carrying with solemn weight, "please step through the gate. The academy office awaits you on the other side."