The steam from the bathroom had barely cleared when the door clicked open.
Albion stepped out, draped in a single, flowing white robe of remarkably light, soft fabric. Long and loose, it covered his small frame from the base of his neck to below his knees.
The wide sleeves fell past his wrists, gathering in smooth layers around his hands. At the top, a raised collar transitioned into a shallow half-hood, framing the back and sides of his neck while leaving his dark, silky hair exposed to brush against his skin.
He moved barefoot, his small feet emerging beneath the pure ivory-white hem that trailed gently over the floorboards like a veil.
Between his delicate features, clear skin, and the vivid fuchsia of his wide eyes—contrasted sharply against the dark hair and white robe—his presence felt almost unreal, possessing an eerie, otherworldly beauty. The deep indigo-purple guild mark on the side of his neck stood out as a small point of vibrant color against his pale skin, with faint, glowing fuchsia undertones.
Across the dimly lit room, Juvia lay sprawled across a ridiculously large bed. She was dressed in her sleepwear—a soft, pale-blue full-length pajama set with subtle white trim around the collar and cuffs.
Her midnight-blue hair fell loose around her shoulders, tousled from rest, and she clutched her small gray-and-blue plush seal tightly against her chest, looking far more like an eight-year-old child than a wizard.
Albion walked directly over to her. His expression was completely rigid—the most intensely serious look Juvia had ever seen on his face.
"Juvia," he said quietly. "I need your help."
Juvia didn't sit up. She merely turned her head on the pillow, her azure eyes squinting at him in confusion.
"Help?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "What could you possibly need help with? Can't this wait until morning?"
Albion shook his head firmly. "No. It can't wait until morning. I've already made him wait all this time. I owe it to him."
Juvia's brow furrowed further. "Who's he?"
Albion just stared at her. He didn't say a word, but the steady, unyielding look in his fuchsia eyes spoke for itself.
Juvia let out a long, dramatic sigh. 'I swear', she thought to herself, 'it's like dealing with an annoying little brother. So impatient.'
With a groan, she lazily pushed herself up into a sitting position, clutching the plush seal to her lap. "Fine, fine. I'll help you. But it better not be anything crazy."
Albion nodded, but a puzzled, hesitant expression crossed his face.
"What?" Juvia asked.
"Well… I don't really know how to explain it," Albion admitted, looking down at his hands. "It's kind of a lot."
Juvia groaned again, rolling her eyes as she patted the empty space on the mattress beside her. Taking the cue, Albion walked over and climbed onto the gigantic bed, tucking his legs beneath his robe into a neat, cross-legged position.
Nearly a full minute of silence passed. Sitting there in the quiet, Juvia was privately reminded of just how poor Albion's social skills really were. He was clearly struggling to express his internal thoughts into words.
Finally, Albion took a slow breath and tried to lay it out.
"It's hard to explain," he began, his voice quiet. "Someone needs my help. Well… even if they don't really want my help, they still need it. And I want to give it to them. I have a connection with this person. He's cruel. He's sadistic. He's filled with malice… and I'm pretty sure he's crazy."
Juvia looked at him dryly. "Crazier than you?"
Albion nodded without hesitation. "Yep. Crazier than me."
He paused, trying to find the right words to describe the Duality of Amon.
"We don't have a good bond," Albion continued, speaking with that new, quiet honesty. "Logically speaking, I don't know why I want to save him. He's been nothing but a threat to me. Before… I was actually scared of him, even if I wouldn't admit it. But now, I can't explain it. I just want to save him."
As he uttered those words, a soft, ethereal light flared within his eyes. His vivid fuchsia irises began to glow brightly in the dim room, casting a subtle reddish-pink illumination over his pale face.
Juvia blinked, noticing the change immediately. "Huh. Your eyes are glowing again."
Albion blinked back, confused. He raised a hand to touch his cheekbone, unable to see what she was looking at. "Are they?"
"Yeah," Juvia nodded. She leaned back slightly, adjusting her hold on her seal. "I remember back in the corridor… they kept glowing every time you said something that sounded important."
"Oh. That," Albion murmured, looking down at his lap. "It's not under my control. I'm not sure why it happens, but it's involuntary."
Juvia tilted her head, considering it for a moment before speaking her mind.
"Maybe it's like your magic," she suggested. At his blank look, she elaborated. "My Skywater Magic is tied to my emotions. If I get angry or worked up, my water gets hotter and hotter until it literally boils. If I'm deeply sad, rain follows me around. Our magic is completely different on paper, but what if your eyes are tied to your emotional state? For me, it's anger or sadness. For you, maybe it's any intense emotion—like that extreme seriousness on your face right now."
Albion remained silent, unable to deny her logic.
Now that he thought about it, his eyes hadn't glowed like this before his Ethereal Awakening. His awakening had directly altered his vision, granting him the ability to perceive the pale-blue informational threads that bound everything in The world—whether objects, magic items, or living beings.
Even now, looking at Juvia, he could see three distinct, pale-blue threads branching off her body. He didn't dare pull or mess with them. The human body was vastly more complex than a wooden chair or a minor magic item; prying into a person's essence would be deeply uncomfortable and likely carry a magical backlash, much like the mental strain he had suffered earlier that day when overusing his magic.
Unlike Juvia's water, which was visible to everyone in the room, these informational threads were unique to his vision—a private layer of Sight tethered directly to his eyes.
Juvia sat silently for a few moments, thinking over everything he had dumped on her.
"Look," Juvia finally said, her voice calm and surprisingly mature. "I'm not Sheila. I don't have the kind of deep wisdom she has. But if you want to save someone… Do you really need an intense reason?"
Albion looked up, his glowing fuchsia eyes searching hers, not quite understanding.
"Why should you need a reason to help someone?" Juvia asked simply. "Isn't it just the most natural thing a person can do? It just proves we're people. If I see someone trip on the street, I want to help them because it's natural. If someone passes out, I'm worried because I'm human. You don't need a grand explanation to save someone. Wanting to help whoever this person is just shows that you're growing."
She paused, her expression shifting into something firmer, inheriting a touch of raw honesty.
"But remember this: we aren't heroes, Albion. You, me, Sheila, Gajeel—we're wizards. Being a wizard is a profession. A way of life. We don't have an obligation to save anyone. Nobody is forcing you to do this. But if you choose to save him, you have to be ready. You have to know, deep down, that you truly want it."
She looked him dead in the eye. "Do you truly want to save this person, from the bottom of your heart?"
Albion didn't hesitate. He nodded firmly.
"Yes," he said, his voice quiet but full of conviction. "From the deepest part of my heart, I want to save him."
A faint, genuine smile touched Juvia's lips. "Well, then it's settled."
Albion looked down at his hands, his posture relaxing slightly as he admitted to a truth he would have hidden before.
"I'm scared," he confessed softly. "I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't know if I can really be that kind of person for someone else."
"It's fine," Juvia said gently. "You don't have to be that person all by yourself. You're not alone."
She reached out and lightly bumped her small fist against his chest, right over his heart.
"You've got me, and you've got Sheila. We're friends, right?"
A sudden, unfamiliar warmth surged through Albion's chest. It wasn't the soft, cozy, comforting warmth he felt around Sheila; this was different. It made his pulse beat faster, filling him with a strange mix of happiness and quiet excitement. He recognized the feeling immediately.
Friendship.
A bright, genuine smile broke across Albion's face—the happiest smile Juvia had ever seen on him—and a faint dust of pink colored his pale cheeks.
"Yeah," Albion said softly, his voice steady. "I've got you. I'm not alone. I can do this."
Juvia reached out and extended her small pinky finger, linking it tightly with his. Her expression turned serious again, her azure eyes searching his face.
"I've already lost people once," she said softly, her voice carrying a weight far beyond her eight years. "I don't want to lose anyone ever again. And I don't want anything bad happening to you. You're younger than me, so I have to protect you."
She squeezed his pinky.
"Promise me, Albion. Promise me that whatever this is, you're going to come back safe, in one piece. Do you understand? If you don't make this promise right now, I won't let you go."
Albion's glowing eyes softened, his smile warm and absolute as he gave a single, firm nod.
"I promise, Juvia Greywater," Albion declared solemnly. "I promise I'll come back safe. And I will save Amon."
Juvia had no idea who "Amon" was. But looking at the quiet determination in the boy sitting before her, that promise was more than enough.