Night finally fell.
The dark sky stretched wide above Aurelthia Academy, scattered with stars that seemed far too calm for a world that had just been filled with ambition, rivalry… and something darker than magic.
As instructed earlier, students were free to choose.
Sleep.
Or explore.
Most chose to explore.
Of course they did. Humans are always curious about new things, even when it leads to trouble.
A smaller portion… chose silence.
[Room 19]
"DAMN IT! I FORGOT TO BRING SOAP!"
Aider's voice echoed from the bathroom.
Blane, who was drying his hair, closed his eyes.
"…Why do we have to share a room with him…"
Cillian, standing near the balcony, raised an eyebrow.
"We?"
Blane opened one eye.
"…We."
From inside the bathroom,
"BLANE! LEND ME YOUR SOAP!"
"HELL NO!"
Cillian looked outside.
The night sky.
Calm.
In sharp contrast to the chaos behind him.
"When do I get to bathe…"
Elsewhere.
Girls' dormitory.
[Room 8]
Three girls.
Still in towels.
And somehow… already showing off their belongings like they were running a private shop.
"This is perfume from Varkon," Sarah said proudly.
Irene held the small bottle carefully. "It smells… soft…"
Alyssa sat at the edge of the bed, fan open, staring flatly.
"…Don't you think this is strange?"
"We're bonding," Sarah replied instantly.
Irene nodded, trying to follow along.
Alyssa closed her eyes.
She was not paid for this.
However, not every room… was this simple.
On the same floor.
A room far larger.
Quieter.
More… elegant.
A private chamber.
Vynessia walked slowly within it.
Her steps were light, her fingers brushing across tables, chairs, curtains as if everything in the room belonged to her.
Or perhaps… it always had.
She stepped outside.
A wide balcony opened before her.
The night wind welcomed her.
Tall pillars trembled slightly in response.
Her hand touched the railing.
Gripping it.
A long breath escaped her lips.
"…How exhausting."
Her eyes half-closed.
"Meeting so many… puppets."
Her body leaned slightly back.
The buttons of her outfit trembled faintly.
A smile appeared.
Thin.
"I'm starting to enjoy it."
Her gaze sharpened.
"The two who break my puppets…"
She whispered softly.
"A blade… and scissors."
"White… and Alyssa."
Her smile widened slightly.
"…Or should I call you… Cillian?"
The bougainvillea around the balcony rustled gently.
As if listening.
"Why did you choose to leave the Griff family…"
Her eyes darkened.
"White."
Flashback
A little girl.
Six years old.
Inside the imperial palace.
"Why the Griff family?" she asked innocently.
The Empress smiled gently.
"Griffend is the lock."
"And we… are the chain."
It wasn't clear.
But it was enough.
The agreement was made.
Without protest.
Without choice.
Second Flashback
A birthday banquet.
Warm.
Bright.
But, a child hid behind a staircase column.
Small.
Silent.
Trying not to be seen.
Vynessia noticed him.
She approached.
"Why are you hiding?"
The child turned.
White hair.
Red eyes.
Strange.
Different.
Vynessia froze.
Footsteps approached.
She was called away.
But before leaving-
She heard it.
"His hair and eyes… unpleasant to look at for too long."
That voice.
White father, Darren Griff.
Vynessia's eyes widened.
She ran back...
But-
Empty.
Back to the present.
Vynessia leaned against her hand.
"You used to be so cute…"
She laughed softly.
"…Why did you become like this?"
Her gaze lifted to the sky.
"Our second meeting…"
"The son of Magnus."
"Since when?"
Silence.
Then,
A smile.
Deeper.
"And now…"
"Our third meeting."
She inhaled slowly.
"Of course…"
"This time, I won't let you go."
She looked upward.
Remembering.
This morning.
That gaze.
Far.
Yet close.
Her body weakened.
She sank down.
Her breathing grew uneven.
Rejection.
Hatred.
Interest.
Mixed.
Dangerous.
"No one will ever have you…"
Her voice was soft.
"…except me."
She let out a quiet laugh.
"The refugee camp…"
Her eyes narrowed.
"I was the one behind it."
That tone,
Cold.
Admitting something.
Without regret.
"And still…"
"The only one who interests me…"
"…is you."
She closed her eyes.
Smiling.
"This game…"
"…is interesting."
"You as the king…"
"And I…"
She opened her eyes.
"…the one who decides your moves."
A faint blush touched her cheeks.
Strange.
Unhealthy.
"Your suffering…"
"I will always enjoy it."
The night wind grew stronger.
"You cannot run from me."
"Even… at the edge of the world."
Her hand rose.
Touching her own face.
Slowly.
"Because I will always be there…"
Her smile widened.
Darker.
Deeper.
"whether you want me to be or not."