The September sun hung low over the Black Lake, casting the water in shades of deep green and silver. The shore was already crowded with students in house colors, their voices carrying across the water like the buzzing of distant bees.

At the edge of the dock, eight boats bobbed gently—two for each house, one set marked with the Gauntlet's silver insignia. The others were the practice boats, older and more weathered.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure in a sleek black coat stood apart from the clusters of students, sketching something in a small leather notebook. He hadn't looked up once since the announcement had ended.