Ronan pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside with a tired exhale. The quiet pressed against him immediately, washing away the distant sounds of students moving through the dormitory halls.
His clothes hung in ragged strips now, stained with dust and sweat. He peeled them off with a grimace, hissing softly when rough fabric dragged across bruised skin. Every movement pulled at sore muscles. His body felt as if someone had taken him apart and put him back together incorrectly.
After changing into a loose pair of shorts, he dropped onto the bed.
The mattress dipped beneath him, cool sheets brushing against overheated skin. He intended to close his eyes for only a moment.
Sleep swallowed him before the thought even finished.
Meanwhile, across the Academy, within Aldercrest Estate—the residential grounds reserved for children of noble houses—Serenya returned from Hunter's Boutique wrapped in unusual silence.
No greeting.
No small complaint.
No absent-minded humming.
She simply walked through the estate and disappeared into her room.
Now she sat beside the open window, staring into the distance.
The evening wind slipped through the curtains and stirred strands of silver hair across her face, carrying the scent of flowers from the estate gardens below. Students' laughter drifted faintly from somewhere outside, but it sounded far away, as though separated by glass.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress.
The face from earlier surfaced again.
Darius.
No...
Not Darius Virelan.
Not the person she had met today.
Her mind kept reaching further back.
A younger face.
Messy hair.
Bright eyes.
A boy running after her through the streets of Windvale while shouting that she was cheating because her legs were longer.
Could it really be him?
Could that truly have been—
Knock. Knock.
Serenya blinked.
"May I come in?" Sophia's voice came gently through the door.
"Yes," Serenya answered softly.
The door creaked open.
Sophia stepped in slowly, studying her friend. Her usual easy smile was there, but smaller than normal.
She sat beside her after a moment.
Serenya glanced sideways at her and forced a faint smile.
"Since when did you get so formal with me?"
Sophia's shoulders lifted slightly.
"You looked like you wanted space."
Her eyes softened.
"So I thought I'd ask."
Serenya looked back out the window.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Wind rustled through the room.
"You want to know about Darius, don't you?" Serenya finally asked.
Sophia hesitated.
Then she leaned back slightly against the wall beside her.
"Only if you want to talk."
Something inside Serenya loosened.
Her gaze dropped.
"Windvale..." she began quietly, "that's my hometown."
Her voice had become distant, almost like she was speaking to herself.
"Caelen and Lyrielle Thorne... they're my real parents."
Sophia's expression froze.
"And Darius..." Serenya swallowed, "...he was my little brother."
Sophia stared.
"But..." she said carefully, "this Darius calls himself Darius Virelan."
Serenya gave a weak smile.
A smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Exactly."
Her fingers curled tighter.
"That's how I knew."
She lowered her head slightly.
"He is Darius Virelan."
A long breath left her.
"We found him during winter."
Images flashed through her mind.
Snow.
Wind.
A tiny figure curled beside an alley wall.
"He was alone. Sick." Her throat tightened. "Barely breathing."
Sophia stayed silent.
"He looked so small..." Serenya whispered. "I remember Father carrying him home wrapped in his coat while Mother kept checking if he was still breathing."
A faint laugh escaped her, shaking apart halfway through.
"He wouldn't even speak at first."
Her eyes glistened.
"My parents gave him a room. Gave him food. Gave him a family."
She looked down at her hands.
"But they told me never to tell him about his past."
Her voice dropped further.
"And I promised."
Silence stretched.
Then—
"When I was brought to the Aldercrest clan..." she continued, "...before I left..."
Her words slowed.
"I promised him something too."
Sophia quietly reached over and took her hand.
Serenya stared at their joined fingers.
"I told him I'd come back."
Her lips trembled.
"I told him I wouldn't forget him."
The pressure in her chest twisted.
"But I never went back."
Her breathing grew uneven.
"I broke it."
She pulled her knees close and buried her face.
Her shoulders shook.
Years.
Years of buried guilt and unanswered questions suddenly cracked apart.
Sophia immediately wrapped her arms around her.
Serenya pressed against her shoulder, soft sounds escaping despite her attempts to hold them back.
Sophia didn't rush to speak.
Didn't tell her not to cry.
Didn't offer empty reassurance.
She simply held her.
Outside, the wind brushed against the curtains while distant birds called across the estate grounds.
After a while, Sophia rested her cheek lightly against Serenya's head.
"We'll talk to him tomorrow," she whispered.
Her hand slowly moved through Serenya's hair.
"You should tell him."
The next morning arrived beneath a hazy sky.
Thin mist still clung to parts of the Academy grounds as students drifted toward classes.
Near the dormitory entrance, two equally exhausted figures met.
Ronan looked up.
Darius looked up.
Dark circles sat beneath both their eyes.
"Good morning," Ronan muttered.
"Morning," Darius replied.
They walked together in silence.
Footsteps crunched softly against gravel.
Then simultaneously—
"How's your health?"
They both stopped.
Turned.
Stared.
A sigh escaped both at exactly the same time.
For a moment, they just looked at each other.
Then Darius snorted.
Ronan's mouth twitched.
A second later, they both laughed.
Darius rubbed his neck.
"I'm still not strong enough to properly use Fulgurion's legacy."
His expression turned serious.
"My body can't keep up."
He flexed his fingers.
"And using his abilities..." his smile faded slightly, "...that really did a number on my soul."
He looked down.
"Need to increase Soul Power quickly."
Ronan nodded.
"I've got problems too."
He stretched an arm and winced.
"Need more physical training."
Darius glanced sideways.
"Only more?"
Ronan stared back.
"...Shut up."
Their laughter followed them down the path.
When they arrived at the guesthouse entrance, two guards crossed their spears in front of them.
"Can you inform Lady Ishulane that Darius and Ronan would like to meet her?" Ronan asked politely.
One guard frowned.
"She's not to be disturbed."
His eyes narrowed.
"Especially by students from Kael's team. Orders from above."
The second guard suddenly blinked.
"Darius and Ronan?"
Recognition flashed across his face.
He turned immediately.
"Wait here."
Inside the guesthouse, Lady Ishulane sat with effortless elegance, porcelain teacup resting between her fingers as steam curled lazily upward.
Across from her, Amara sat quietly.
The guard entered and bowed.
"Lady Ishulane, apologies. Two boys—Darius and Ronan—are here asking to see you."
Ishulane raised an eyebrow.
"And?"
"You currently have a guest, so I waited for your instruction."
A pause.
Then she slowly lowered her cup.
"Did I say I was expecting someone?"
"...No."
"Then don't say I have a guest."
The guard stiffened.
"Yes, Lady Ishulane."
As he left, a sly smile tugged at her lips.
She turned toward Amara.
"Want to catch them red-handed?"
Amara blinked.
"What?"
"Just follow along."
The smile widened.
Moments later, Darius and Ronan arrived.
Lady Ishulane sat on the wooden veranda, morning sunlight casting warm gold across polished boards. Nearby, hidden behind thick curtains beneath a concealment spell, Amara stood in complete silence.
"Good morning, Lady Ishulane," both boys greeted.
"How is your health?"
She looked over her teacup.
"I'm fine."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"But you two look terrible."
Before Darius could answer, Ronan looked around.
"Is Amara ma'am still here?"
Ishulane nearly paused.
"No. She left earlier."
Her eyes sharpened.
"How did you know?"
Ronan released a breath.
"The fragrance."
He scratched his cheek.
"It's... a little odd."
He paused.
"And too sweet."
Another pause.
"Sometimes makes my nose tingle."
Behind the curtain—
Crack.
Amara slowly clenched her fist.
Veins pulsed faintly at her forehead.
"Odd?"
"My fragrance is odd?"
Unaware of the approaching disaster, Ronan smiled innocently.
"We brought gifts."
He activated his storage ring.
Light flickered.
One after another, items floated onto the wooden floor.
High-grade soul healing elixirs.
Soul recovery medicine.
A box overflowing with rare herbs.
Rank Five monster cores.
Lady Ishulane watched quietly.
Then took another sip.
"You know I don't accept gifts."
Her gaze settled on them.
"So tell me."
She placed the cup down.
"What do you want?"
Ronan opened his mouth—
But Darius stepped forward.
He bowed.
"Ma'am... I think there's a misunderstanding."
His eyes lowered.
"This isn't payment."
Ronan looked over quietly.
Darius drew a breath.
"I feel guilty."
Silence.
"If someone else had inherited Fulgurion's legacy..." his hands slowly tightened, "...they probably would've helped you already."
He laughed weakly.
"I can't."
His voice lowered.
"Not right now."
He looked up.
"But Fulgurion gave me something important."
His eyes carried quiet sincerity.
"He asked me to help you if I ever had the chance."
He smiled.
Small.
Honest.
"This is the best I can do."
He bowed again.
"Whether you accept it or not is your choice."
"Thank you for your time."
He turned—
Ronan grabbed his shoulder.
"Wait."
Darius blinked.
Ronan looked toward Ishulane.
"Do you know of a fiery flower that heals wounds caused by cursed flames?"
Ishulane had already gone quiet after Darius's words.
Now she looked between them with stunned eyes.
"Darius."
Her voice softened.
"You don't need to feel guilty."
She shook her head slowly.
"I never blamed you."
A small smile appeared.
"I only wanted to know why Ronan recommended you."
Her eyes gentled.
"Now I understand."
Darius stared.
"I respect Ronan's choice."
A pause.
"And Fulgurion's."
She looked directly at him.
"If you ever struggle with the legacy..."
Her smile deepened.
"You can come to me."
Darius's face lit up.
"Thank you, ma'am!"
She turned toward Ronan.
"As for your question..."
Her expression shifted.
"The flower exists."
"It's called Ashen Bloom Petal."
Her voice grew serious.
"Extremely rare."
"Rank Six alchemists would kill for even a single petal."
Ronan nodded.
"Then let's trade."
"...What?"
"Teach me everything about Phantom Clone."
He smiled.
"I'll give you two plants."
Silence.
Lady Ishulane stared.
Slowly—
Very slowly—
She lowered her teacup.
"...Stop joking."
Ronan tilted his head.
"Those flowers grow in death zones."
Disbelief filled her eyes.
"Do you really think I'd believe you survived places like that?"
Ronan merely grinned.
"Time's running short."
"I still need to attend Amara's class."
"So?"
He spread his hands.
"Do we have a deal?"
Ishulane stared for several seconds.
Then suddenly laughed.
"Fine."
She shook her head.
"You have a deal."
"Come this afternoon."
"I'll teach you everything I know."
Ronan scratched his head.
"Ah... small problem."
"I have class with Amara."
Ishulane raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't your clone tell you she cancelled classes today?"
Ronan blinked.
"Haven't met him yet."
"He buried himself in the library."
He looked thoughtful.
"Need to find him first."
"Then I need to speak with Amara too."
He smiled.
"There's something important I need to tell her."
"And a gift."
As both boys turned—
A cold voice cut through the air.
"You don't have to go anywhere."
Every hair on Ronan's neck rose.
"I'm here."
They turned sharply.
Amara stood there.
Expression unreadable.
Arms folded.
The air around her felt strangely hotter.
Very slowly—
Ronan's smile stiffened.
Darius swallowed.
Then both immediately bowed.
"Good morning, ma'am."