Dante stood outside the female dorms, jaw tight, fingers flexing once before he shoved his hands into his pockets.
"…You're overthinking it," Arthur whispered from behind a pillar.
"…He's going to say something stupid," Julius added.
"…Shut up," Dante snapped under his breath.
Modred leaned against the wall, watching. "…Go already."
Dante exhaled once, then stepped forward and asked one of the passing students. "…Lysara. Call her."
The wait felt longer than it was.
Then—
She appeared.
Lysara stepped out under the archway, silver hair catching the dim evening light, expression calm as always.
Dante looked at her—
and immediately looked away.
A pause.
"…There's a festival tonight."
She blinked once.
"…And?"
"…I'm going," he said, tone sharpening slightly. "So you're coming with me."
It came out blunt. Almost like an order.
Even he seemed to realize it a second too late.
"…Not like that," he added quickly, irritation creeping in. "I mean—come with me. To the festival."
Silence.
Then—
A soft laugh.
"…You're terrible at this."
Dante frowned. "…I didn't ask for commentary."
"But you did ask," she said, a faint smile forming. "…Just… aggressively."
"…Whatever."
She watched him for a moment longer, then nodded.
"…Alright."
Dante blinked. "…Alright?"
"…We'll meet at the city centre."
"…Fine."
He turned immediately like the conversation was over
.
Which only made it worse.
Behind him—
"…He survived," Arthur whispered.
Julius covered his mouth. "…Barely."
Dante stopped mid-step.
"…All of you need to disappear."
"…Not happening," Modred said.
"…You're a dope," Arthur added.
"…A successful one," Riven said quietly.
Dante didn't dignify that with a response.
"…Wait," Julius said suddenly, frowning. "…I thought Lysara and Modred were—"
"No."
Modred didn't even hesitate.
"…She's basically my sister."
"…Not even basically," Arthur added. "…It's obvious."
Julius blinked. "…Oh."
Modred glanced at Taren, a smirk forming. "…You should find someone too. At this rate you'll die alone."
Taren didn't look up. "…I already have someone I'm going with to the festival."
A pause.
Arthur leaned forward. "…You're joking."
"…I don't joke."
Julius's eyes widened. "…No way."
Modred frowned slightly. "…Who."
Taren adjusted his glasses calmly. "…You'll see."
"…Unlike you," he added, glancing at Modred, "I actually got game."
Arthur broke first. Julius followed immediately.
Even Dante let out a short breath that might've been a laugh.
Modred stared at them. "…You're all annoying."
Meanwhile in the girl's dormitory-
Aurelia stood in front of her wardrobe, clothes scattered across the bed.
"…No."
She picked another.
"…No."
Another.
"…This is worse."
"…You've said that about everything."
Her roommate lay on the bed, watching with clear amusement.
"…Selene, I'm serious."
"…So am I," Selene said, grinning. "This is the first time I've seen you like this."
Aurelia paused.
"…Like what."
Selene sat up slightly. "…Stressed over a guy."
Aurelia froze.
"…I'm not—"
"…You really wuv him, huh?"
"…I do not!"
Her voice came out too fast.
Selene only grinned wider.
Aurelia turned away, flustered, digging through her clothes again—then stopped.
Her hand brushed against something.
A chain.
Silver.
At its center—a sharp, intricate insignia. A cross-like structure woven into a royal crest, lines precise, deliberate. Authority and faith fused into one symbol.
Her expression stilled.
The softness drained.
Eyes dulled.
Just for a second—
nothing.
"…Aurelia?"
Selene's voice cut in.
Aurelia blinked.
The moment vanished.
"…It's nothing."
She set it aside.
"…Help me choose."
Selene was already off the bed, wrapping her arms around her from behind. "Finally. I thought you'd never ask."
"…You're too excited."
"…Because this matters."
"…It's just a festival."
"…Liar."
Aurelia didn't deny it this time.
Evening settled over the capital—
and the city transformed.
Gold and white clovers stretched across the streets in layered arches, woven into banners that draped from building to building like flowing ribbons. Lanterns hung at varying heights, each encased in glass etched with delicate clover patterns, casting soft golden light that shimmered across stone roads.
White petals—crafted from light mana—floated slowly through the air like drifting snow, dissolving before they touched the ground.
Stalls lined the streets, decorated with polished wood and cloth canopies stitched with silver thread. Music moved through everything—string instruments, distant drums, laughter blending into a rhythm that felt alive.
The entire city looked like it had been lifted out of something unreal.
Like a celebration made to be remembered.
Modred waited near the dorm entrance.
Aurelia approached.
For a moment—
everything else blurred.
She wore a simple white and yellow dress. Light fabric, soft at the edges, fitted just enough to follow her shape without drawing too much attention. The gold accents caught the lantern light when she moved.
"…Hi," she said.
Modred looked at her.
Actually looked.
"…You look good."
Aurelia smiled, a little softer this time.
"…You too."
He held his hand out.
She took it without hesitation.
"…Let's go."
The city centre was worse.
In the best way.
A massive clover-shaped arrangement stretched across the plaza, golden light flowing through its outline like veins. Smaller lights pulsed gently beneath it, reflecting across polished stone like rippling water. Music was louder here, movement denser, the air warmer with life.
Arthur waved them over immediately.
Julius was already eating something.
Dante stood nearby, trying to look like he wasn't waiting.
Lysara arrived not long after.
"…So that's her," Arthur muttered.
"…Yeah," Julius nodded.
Dante glanced once. "…Not bad."
Aurelia blinked slightly.
"…Ignore them," Modred said.
"…I am."
"…Where's Taren?" Julius asked.
"Right here."
They turned.
And paused.
Taren stood there—
beside a woman.
Older. Composed. Presence sharp.
"…Senior Elara Voss," Riven said.
Arthur gave a slow nod. "…You've got taste."
Dante raised a thumb. "…Respect."
Modred stepped forward, placing a hand on Taren's shoulder, eyes watery with tears of joy.
"…I'm proud of you."
Taren punched him immediately.
"…Shut up."
Julius burst out laughing. Arthur wasn't far behind.
Even Elara's lips curved faintly.
Taren adjusted his glasses again. "…We'll be going."
"…Yeah," Modred muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "…Before you embarrass yourself."
"…Leave."
They split after that, pulled into different directions by the festival.
The city felt alive in a way it never did during the day. Lanterns swayed overhead, casting gold and soft white light across the streets. The clover decorations shimmered as if they were breathing, light flowing through them in quiet pulses. Music drifted through the air—strings, drums, laughter—blending into something warm and constant.
Modred and Aurelia didn't rush. They moved through the crowd naturally, hands loosely connected, stopping whenever something caught their attention.
"…You really went straight for food," Aurelia said, watching him pick something up from a stall.
"…It's the best part."
"…You're predictable."
"…You still followed."
She didn't deny it.
She took a bite of what he handed her, eyes widening slightly. "…Okay… this is actually good."
"…I don't miss."
They moved on, stopping at a small game stall. Rings, targets, prizes lined up in uneven rows.
Aurelia tried.
Missed.
Tried again.
Missed again.
She sighed softly. "…This is rigged."
"…You're just bad."
"…That's rude."
"…Move."
He stepped in behind her, adjusting her wrist slightly. "…Don't throw it. Guide it."
"…That doesn't help."
"…It does."
She tried again.
This time—
it landed.
Aurelia blinked, then smiled—small, but real. "…I did that."
"…Sure."
She glanced at him. "…You're annoying."
"…Works."
"…Didn't think I'd find you here."
Modred turned.
Xeraniel stood there, hands in his pockets, relaxed as ever.
"…You're still alive," Modred said.
"…Barely."
His gaze shifted to Aurelia.
"…And this is?"
Modred didn't hesitate. "…My girlfriend."
Aurelia froze.
Then her face flushed instantly.
Xeraniel smirked. "…Didn't think you had it in you."
"…Tch."
"…You ran last time," Modred added. "Was expecting more."
"…Next time," Xeraniel replied.
A small pause passed between them.
"…We'll finish it."
Modred nodded. "…Yeah."
Xeraniel stepped back. "…Don't lose before then."
"…Same to you."
He left just like that.
Aurelia didn't look at Modred. "…You didn't have to say that."
"…Too late."
"…Idiot."
"…Yeah."
But she didn't let go of his hand.
Dante and Lysara walked side by side, slower than the others. Dante looked like he'd rather fight someone than deal with this.
"…Relax," Lysara said.
"…I am relaxed."
"…You look like you're about to start a fight."
"…I might."
She stopped at a stall and picked something up, handing it to him without asking.
"…Eat."
"…What is it."
"…Food."
"…That's not helpful."
"…Eat."
He took a bite.
Paused.
"…It's good."
"…I know."
They walked again, a little closer now without noticing.
"…You were nervous earlier," she said casually.
"…I wasn't."
"…You were."
"…I wasn't."
She glanced at him, amused. "…You asked like you were challenging me."
"…Maybe I was."
"…To what."
"…Coming with me."
She smiled faintly. "…You're strange."
"…You still said yes."
"…I did."
That shut him up.
They stopped at a game stall. Lysara tried first—missed.
Dante clicked his tongue. "…Give it here."
One throw.
Perfect hit.
"…Show-off."
"…Obviously."
She shook her head slightly—but she was smiling.
Arthur was nowhere near calm.
He'd been dragged into a group of girls who had absolutely no intention of letting him leave.
"…You're coming with us."
"I didn't agree to that."
"…You are now."
Julius stood off to the side, laughing, drink in hand. "…You're finished."
Arthur tried to pull away.
Failed.
"…This is harassment."
"…You like it."
"…I do not."
"…Liar."
Riven stood beside Julius, watching the entire thing like it was a problem he didn't want to solve
.
"…You're not helping," Arthur said.
"…No."
"…Traitor."
"…Yes."
Julius took another drink. "…This is the best thing I've seen all night."
A group of kids passed by, stopping briefly near Riven.
"…Why are you so skinny?"
Riven looked down at them. "…I'm not."
"…You are."
"…I'm efficient."
Julius nearly choked laughing.
"…That's not better."
"…It is."
"…It's not."
Riven looked mildly irritated. "…You're all annoying."
Taren walked beside Elara, posture straight out of habit.
"…You're doing it again," she said.
"…Doing what."
"…Thinking too much."
"…I'm not."
"…You are."
He exhaled slightly. "…It's crowded."
"…It's a festival."
"…That doesn't make it less crowded."
She glanced at him, then grabbed his sleeve lightly, pulling him toward a stall before he could overthink it.
"…You're overcomplicating this."
"…I'm not—"
"…Try something."
She handed him food.
He hesitated.
Then took a bite.
Paused.
"…It's acceptable."
"…That's high praise."
"…Don't get used to it."
She smirked slightly. "…You're easier than you think."
"…I doubt that."
"…We'll see."
The sky shifted.
Then—
light exploded across it.
Gold first, spreading wide.
Then green, sharp and bright.
Then silver, scattering like shattered stars.
The entire city slowed.
Voices softened.
Everything lifted upward.
Aurelia stood beside Modred, watching.
"…It's beautiful," she said quietly.
Modred didn't answer.
He was looking at her.
She noticed.
"…What."
"…Nothing."
A pause.
Then—
she leaned in.
Quick.
Soft.
A kiss on his cheek.
She pulled back immediately, looking away.
"…That's for earlier."
Modred didn't move.
Didn't speak.
For once—
he didn't have anything to say.
Around them, the festival continued.
Laughter. Music. Light.
And for that night—
they were just young, free, and alive inside it. 🔥