The training ground still carried yesterday's damage. Cracks ran across the stone, some shallow, others deep enough to catch a step if you weren't careful. The air had settled, but not completely—something faint still lingered.
Modred stood at the center.
Dante walked in a moment later, rolling his shoulder, faint sparks snapping across his arm before fading. "…You're early."
"…You're late."
Dante smirked. "Then don't complain when I hit harder."
They moved at the same time.
No weapons.
Just fists.
Dante struck first, lightning snapping across his arm as his punch tore forward. Modred shifted just enough, flames tightening along his own arm as he slipped past it and countered.
Their blows met.
Fire and lightning didn't explode—they stayed tight, wrapped around motion, reinforcing impact. Dante pressed harder, faster. Modred adjusted, redirecting instead of blocking, stepping through openings instead of forcing them.
"…You've gotten annoying," Dante muttered.
"…You've gotten predictable."
Dante grinned. "Say that again."
He surged forward, faster this time. Lightning snapped sharper, cleaner. Modred met him head-on, their movements overlapping, the ground cracking faintly beneath them.
For a moment, it balanced.
Then they broke apart.
Dante exhaled, rolling his neck. "…Yeah. That's better."
"Still slow," Modred said.
Dante scoffed. "…Keep talking."
"Planning on killing each other before breakfast?"
Arthur's voice cut in.
They both glanced over.
Taren and Riven stood nearby—and Arthur and Julius had joined them, watching like they'd been there a while.
Julius crossed his arms. "…Looks fun."
"…It wasn't," Dante said. "He's getting harder to hit."
"Try being faster," Modred replied.
Arthur laughed lightly. "You two are going to end up breaking the field again."
A small pause.
Then—
"…So," Arthur added, glancing between them, "festival plans?"
Modred frowned slightly. "…What festival?"
Silence.
Dante blinked. "…You're joking."
"…No."
Julius looked at Taren. "…He's serious."
Taren adjusted his glasses. "…He usually is."
Dante stared at Modred for a second, then let out a short laugh. "…You're actually an idiot."
"…Why."
"Festival of Clovers," Dante said. "Founding of the nation. Royal family's birthday. Big deal."
Modred didn't react.
Riven spoke calmly. "…Well he was raised in the mountains."
Taren nodded slightly. "…That explains it."
Modred looked between them. "…You're all enjoying this."
Dante smirked. "A little."
"…You're hurting my feelings."
Arthur laughed. "You have those?"
"…Barely."
Dante shook his head, still amused. "Anyway. It's a big event. Lights, food, crowds. Everyone shows up."
Julius added, "And if you don't, people assume something's wrong with you."
"…There is," Dante muttered.
Modred ignored him.
Then—
"…Speaking of wrong," Arthur said casually, glancing past them.
"…You've got someone waiting."
Modred turned.
Near the entrance—
Aurelia stood quietly.
Basket in hand.
A brief pause.
Dante exhaled slowly. "…Oh, that's for you."
Julius looked between them, already smiling. "…She's cute."
Taren adjusted his glasses. "…Very."
Riven said nothing.
But he didn't look away.
Modred turned back to them. "…Don't start."
Dante folded his arms. "Start what? You didn't tell us you had that going on."
"I don't."
Arthur smirked. "Right."
Julius nodded. "Yeah, she just stands there with food for random people."
"…Shut up."
Dante tilted his head slightly. "You're blushing."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Modred looked at all of them, irritation clear—but didn't deny it again.
"…All of you need to shut up."
Arthur grinned. "Go on then."
Julius added, "Don't keep her waiting."
Taren simply said, "…Go."
A small pause.
Modred exhaled once, then started walking.
Behind him—
"Ask Lysara while you're at it," he muttered without turning.
Dante blinked. "…What?"
Modred didn't slow. "…Festival."
A beat.
Dante's expression tightened immediately. "…Don't talk."
Arthur laughed. Julius nearly choked trying to hold it in. Even Taren's mouth twitched slightly.
"…You should," Taren added.
"…I said don't talk."
Modred ignored them.
He stopped in front of Aurelia.
Up close, she looked a little unsure—but not uncomfortable.
"…Hi," she said softly.
Modred nodded. "…You've been here long?"
She shook her head quickly. "…No. I just got here."
A small pause.
"…I brought food."
She held the basket out slightly.
Modred looked at it, then at her.
"…You waited just to bring this?"
She froze slightly, then looked away. "…I thought you might not have eaten."
"…You brought all this just for me?"
She froze.
Then—
"…I didn't—"
She glanced back at him, a small pout forming before she looked down again.
"…You don't have to make it sound like that."
"…Like what."
"…Like I—" she stopped, then shook her head lightly. "…never mind."
Modred sat on the low edge of the stone nearby, opening the basket.
"…Sit."
They sat side by side, the basket between them.
For a moment, neither spoke. The noise from the others carried faintly behind them.
Aurelia glanced back slightly. "…They're loud."
Modred opened the basket. "…Don't mind them. They're all idiots."
She blinked—
then a small laugh slipped out.
Soft. Light.
He glanced at her. "…What."
"…Nothing," she said, still smiling faintly. "…You're funny."
He shrugged slightly. "…So they say."
She looked down, still holding that small smile.
They finished eating slowly.
The wind moved lightly through the field, carrying warmth from the fading sun.
Aurelia adjusted the basket in her lap.
Modred stood.
She followed.
"…There's that festival," he said.
She nodded. "…Yeah."
A small pause.
Then—
"…Come with me."
Simple.
Straight.
Aurelia blinked once.
Then her expression softened.
"…Okay."
No hesitation.
Modred looked away slightly, scratching the side of his jaw. "…Alright."
She watched him for a second.
Then—
"…You're a little awkward."
He frowned faintly. "…I'm not."
That made her laugh again.
Behind them—
"…That was smooth," Dante muttered.
"…Painfully," Arthur added.
Modred didn't look back. "…Leave."
Julius laughed quietly.
Aurelia glanced between them, then back at Modred, a faint warmth in her expression.
"…You really don't think before you speak, do you,"she said.
"…It's a talent of mine."
"…I can tell."
There was a hint of amusement in her voice now.
They sat there a bit longer, the wind moved lightly across the field, carrying distant noise from the academy.
"…Thank you," she said after a while.
He nodded once.
They stood.
Walked toward the dorm path.
Same pace.
No rush.
The academy had quieted again, lanterns beginning to replace the fading daylight.
They stopped near the entrance.
Aurelia turned slightly toward him, the light catching in her hair as the wind shifted it softly across her face.
"…I'll see you at the festival then."
"…Yeah."
She smiled.
Small.
Natural.
"…Don't disappear before that."
He gave a faint shrug. "…I won't."
A small pause.
Then she turned and walked inside.
No extra words.
No lingering.
Just a quiet exit.
Modred stood there for a moment.
Then turned—
"…You're smiling."
Dante's voice.
Modred didn't even look at him. "…Say that again."
"…Nothing," Dante said, already walking away.
Arthur and Julius were still laughing under their breath.
Taren adjusted his glasses.
Riven stayed silent.
Modred exhaled once.
Then followed.