The House Thuban Headquarters

Aless nodded slowly, a faint, shadowy smile playing on their pale lips.

"Come. You will need proper clothes and a place to rest before the sun rises," the master of the house said, turning as their black robe billowed around their ankles. "Haryella, light the way and cast some clothes to him."

The succubus let out a quiet huff, still visibly unnerved by Warren's unexpected resilience, but she obeyed. With a snap of her fingers, a orb of violet fire ignited above her palm, casting long, dancing shadows against the ancient stone walls. The clothes she casts to you it's a simple black robe made of a light material.

Leaving the great chamber of black marble behind, you followed them into a labyrinth of forgotten corridors. The architecture here was vastly different from the modern academy above: the high Gothic vaulted ceilings were supported by arches carved with winged dragons whose ruby eyes seemed to follow your every move. Tall, arched windows with shattered stained glass offered glimpses of the pitch-black night outside, choked by thick ivy and dried spiderwebs. The air was thick, heavy with dust and the lingering scent of old parchment, wax, and long-evaporated potions.

"The South-East Wing of Thuban was sealed by the High Council over three centuries ago," Aless explained, stepping soundlessly across the worn flagstones. "They erected magical barriers believing they could erase us from history. But they failed to realize that the foundation of the academy itself was built upon ours. The Obsidian Hall still has some beauty in it."

After descending a winding spiral staircase carved directly into the bedrock, Haryella pushed open a pair of massive oak doors reinforced with blackened ironwork. The heavy hinges groaned loudly, echoing into the cavernous space beyond.

The House Thuban dormitory revealed itself.

It was a vast, magnificent hall, though deeply scarred by time. Giant stone pillars shaped like coiled serpents held up the ceiling. At the far end, a massive iron hearth built in the shape of a dragon’s maw lay cold, filled with centuries of dead ash. Dark wood furniture with intricate carvings, stately desks, bookshelves overflowing with mold-bound tomes, and faded velvet armchairs, was scattered across the room.

Hanging centrally above the main lounge area was a large, frayed tapestry depicting the house crest: a black dragon coiled tight around a silver blade.

"The heir's quarters are right through there," Haryella said, pointing a sharp, manicured fingernail toward a heavy door on the side. She shot you a look that mixed lingering annoyance with reluctant fascination. "You'll find a canopy bed with dark green velvet, enchanted wardrobes that preserved clean robes over the centuries, and a stone bath. If you need anything... try not to bother me."

"You must show him the same respect that you show to me, Haryella" said Aless, "he is a small young novice, but maybe the Dragon of the prophecy... maybe it is him."

"No way!" Said Haryella.

Aless walked over to the great hearth and, with a simple flick of their wrist, ignited it with dark, greenish flames that emitted no smoke, spreading an immediate, comforting warmth throughout the cold room.

"This place belongs to you now, Warren," Aless said, turning back to face you with those vivid red eyes. "The academy believes you are just an ordinary student. Tomorrow, you must play the part. Tonight, you should rest." Aless smiled, "but before, I must tell you something..."