Yuuta ran toward the field, his feet pounding against the grass as he struggled to catch his breath. Behind him, the lights of the palace gradually faded into the distance, leaving only the vast darkness stretching beneath the night sky.
He found Erza standing alone in the middle of the field.
She wasn't moving. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, and her face was tilted toward the sky where the fireworks had bloomed and disappeared moments earlier. There was something unsettling about her stillness, something far more frightening than the cold fury she usually displayed when angered.
Yuuta slowed his steps as he approached her.
"Erza," he said quietly, careful not to startle her.
She didn't respond.
Her violet eyes remained fixed on the distant mountains, where the dark outlines of the forest stretched across the valley. Yuuta stopped beside her, uncertain what to say.
He had expected anger, perhaps even punishment. He knew how terrifying Erza could become when someone wronged her, and he had already prepared himself for whatever she might do.
But when he finally looked at her face, his chest tightened.
Her expression was empty.
There was no anger, no coldness, not even the slightest trace of sadness. It was as though something precious had been taken from her, leaving behind a silence that Yuuta didn't know how to reach.
He understood that she had already tried searching with her magic. Erza possessed enough power to freeze armies and shatter mountains, yet even that extraordinary strength hadn't been enough to recover the ring.
For the first time since meeting her, Yuuta saw the Dragon Queen standing helpless before something she couldn't change.
He swallowed.
"My queen," he said. "I am sorry. It is my fault."
Erza remained silent.
Yuuta lowered his gaze, unable to bear the emptiness in her expression. He had seen her furious, cold, and even frightened when Elena was in danger, but this was different.
Her silence made him feel worse than any punishment she could have given him.
He took a hesitant step closer.
"I will find it. I will search all night. I will search until I"
Erza turned toward him.
The moment their eyes met, Yuuta froze.
Her violet eyes had changed. The emptiness that had frightened him moments earlier was giving way to something far more dangerous, and a terrifying pressure began spreading from her body.
The grass around her gradually turned white as frost crept across the ground. The air grew unnaturally cold, and the weight of her aura pressed against Yuuta's chest until breathing became difficult.
He had experienced her power before, but Erza had always restrained herself around him.
Not this time.
His knees buckled beneath the pressure, sending him onto the frozen grass. He struggled to breathe as the cold air burned his lungs, his trembling hands pressing against the ground to keep himself upright.
For a moment, he could barely raise his head.
Yet he forced himself to look at her.
He knew he was responsible for what had happened. In his desperation to secure Elena's future, he had allowed Erza to sacrifice something that belonged to her family, something she had treasured long before they ever met.
He hadn't even asked what the ring meant to her.
"Please," he said. His voice was the voice of someone who knew he did not deserve to ask for anything. "Please give me a chance. I will find it. I will search until I find it. I will bring it back to you. I swear it."
Erza stared down at him.
Yuuta knelt before her, his red eyes wet with tears, his hands trembling beneath the pressure of her aura. He was terrified, yet he continued looking at her as though begging for one last opportunity to make things right.
She should kill him.
The thought came naturally, familiar after everything she believed he had done to her. He had abandoned her, left her to raise Elena alone, and continued living without knowing the suffering she had endured.
And now, because of him, she had lost the only thing she still possessed from her old world.
Her mother's ring.
Erza's fingers slowly curled into fists.
She could end his life with a single movement. Nothing in this world could stop her, and she had already threatened to do so countless times.
But as she looked at the mortal kneeling before her, she found herself unable to act.
Instead, she turned away.
Without speaking, Erza walked toward the palace. Her white dress trailed across the frost-covered grass, and she never once looked back.
Yuuta remained on his knees, watching her disappear into the darkness.
He waited until the palace doors closed behind her, hoping she might turn around or say something before leaving.
She didn't.
For several moments, he stayed motionless beneath the cold night sky. His breath came in uneven gasps, and the frost surrounding him slowly began to melt as the pressure of Erza's aura disappeared.
He thought about the ring.
He remembered how it had rested on her finger, how she sometimes touched it absentmindedly, and how naturally it had seemed to belong to her.
He had never questioned its importance.
When Erza appeared in his apartment, she had been a terrifying stranger who threatened his life. Yet over time, he had begun noticing things about her that didn't fit the image of a merciless queen.
He remembered the way she held Elena's hand when she thought nobody was watching, and how she had agreed to give him a year to prove himself.
Despite everything between them, she had given him a chance.
And when Elena's future was at stake, she had surrendered something precious without demanding anything in return.
Yuuta lowered his head.
He couldn't undo what had happened.
But he could still try to recover what she had lost.
Slowly, he turned toward the field and placed his hands against the grass.
Then he began searching.
The field stretched beneath the moonlight, its tall grass concealing everything the explosion had scattered across the earth.
Charred paper clung to bent stalks, broken branches lay tangled in the undergrowth, and chunks of stone had been hurled from their usual places.
Somewhere among all of it could be the ring.
Yuuta began at the edge of the damaged ground, parting the grass with both hands and examining whatever lay beneath.
He tried to keep track of where he had searched by leaving narrow strips of flattened grass behind him.
Even so, the darkness made every patch look much like the last, and he often had to bend low to tell a glint of dew from a piece of metal.
A flash of silver caught his eye near a clump of weeds.
He dropped to one knee and reached for it without thinking, already imagining the familiar shape of Erza's ring.
His fingers closed around a sharp edge instead.
He jerked back with a gasp, and a thin line of blood appeared across his palm.
It was a sliver of broken glass, half-buried in the dirt.
Yuuta stared at it for a few seconds before setting it aside where he wouldn't grab it again.
He pressed his thumb against the cut, waited for the stinging to ease, and searched the surrounding patch in case the ring lay nearby.
There was nothing.
Farther on, the grass grew denser, its long blades mixed with thorny vines that had spread along the ground.
The thorns caught his sleeves and scratched his wrists whenever he pushed through.
One hooked into the fabric at his knee; when he pulled free, it tore a small hole that widened each time he crouched.
He tried using a fallen stick to hold the vines aside, but the thicket was too tangled, and eventually he had to work his way through by hand.
The ring was small enough to have slipped beneath any root or stone.
Yuuta checked each gap, ignoring the scratches gathering along his forearms.
His nails struck buried gravel when he dug, and one cracked painfully against a rock.
By the time he emerged from the thorns, dirt had worked into the cuts on his fingers, and blood was beginning to stain the torn fabric at his knees.
He looked back at the ground he had covered.
The search had taken far longer than he expected, and there was still an enormous stretch of field ahead of him.
He tightened his grip on the stick and continued.
He didn't know whether the ring had survived the explosion.
It might have been destroyed, thrown into the nearby forest, or carried somewhere beyond the academy grounds.
The possibility frightened him.
If the ring was truly gone, what could he possibly say to Erza?
How could he stand before her and admit that he had failed after promising to bring it back?
Yuuta stopped beside a heap of branches and broken timber.
One thick log had been thrown across a shallow ditch, trapping grass and rubble beneath it.
He crouched, checked the spaces he could reach, then braced both hands against the wood and pushed.
The log shifted only a finger's width before settling back with a dull thud.
He tried from the other side, planting his feet in the mud and forcing his shoulder against the rough bark.
The wood scraped his torn sleeve, and pain flared through his palm as he strained against the weight.
At last, the log rolled just far enough for him to inspect the ditch. He dropped beside it, searching the exposed soil and the tangle of roots beneath. No ring.
For a moment, he stayed there with his elbows resting on his knees, his breath loud in the quiet field.
He looked toward the distant palace and remembered the expression Erza had worn before walking away.
He could endure her anger, her insults, and even her threats. But seeing her look so utterly defeated was something he never wanted to experience again.
He rose carefully and moved on to the next patch of ground.
From one of the palace windows, the Headmaster watched Yuuta working his way through the wreckage.
The young man had just finished searching beneath a fallen log and was now picking through stones scattered along the edge of a ditch.
The old man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression growing increasingly troubled as the night progressed.
He had watched Yuuta push aside debris, force his way through thorny grass, and examine one hopeless patch of earth after another without asking anyone for assistance.
Several times, the Headmaster considered intervening.
He could send guards carrying torches or organize a search party capable of examining the entire field far more efficiently.
With the academy's resources, the task would become considerably easier.
But doing so would violate the rules he had established.
Those rules had preserved the academy's integrity for generations, ensuring that no family received an unfair advantage during the scholarship selection.
The Headmaster had spent years enforcing them.
Yet watching Yuuta continue despite his injuries made him question how much longer he could remain silent.
The young man hadn't demanded special treatment. He hadn't asked for help or attempted to escape responsibility.
He had simply promised to find the ring.
And now he was trying to fulfill that promise, regardless of the cost.
The Headmaster sighed and continued watching.
He could only hope Yuuta would find what he was searching for before the night ended.
Meanwhile, in the room the academy had provided, Erza lay motionless on the bed.
She hadn't changed her clothes or prepared herself for sleep. Her hands rested over her chest, and her violet eyes stared toward the ceiling of the unfamiliar room.
The bed was soft, but she couldn't find any comfort in it.
Her ring was gone.
She had tried convincing herself that it was merely an old piece of jewelry, something she had possessed for centuries and could finally afford to surrender.
She had done it for Elena.
For her daughter's future.
Surely, that should have been enough.
Yet no matter how many times she repeated those reasons, the emptiness in her chest remained.
Erza slowly closed her eyes.
She had spent the evening refusing to think about the past, but now, surrounded by silence, the memories she had buried for centuries began returning.
She remembered a familiar face.
A gentle voice.
Warm hands holding her own.
She remembered being a little girl, sitting beside someone who had once made her feel safe, someone who had placed the ring on her finger long before she understood what it meant.
Her mother.
Erza's fingers tightened against the fabric of her dress.
She had tried so hard to forget.
But without the ring, the memories seemed more painful than ever.
For once, the Dragon Queen lacked the strength to fight them.
She remained on the bed with her eyes closed, allowing herself to remember the warmth of a world she could no longer return to.
Outside, the moon had climbed higher, and the cold was beginning to settle into Yuuta's clothes.
He had searched through burned fabric from the pouch, twisted fragments of the rocket, and damaged belongings scattered by the explosion.
Several times, small pieces of metal had flashed beneath the moonlight, but every one proved to be something else.
Near the far side of the field, a broad slab of stone rested against a low mound, its underside buried in loose earth.
Yuuta crouched and peered into the narrow space beneath it.
He could see a few bright specks caught among the soil and dead leaves, but not enough to tell what they were.
He tried to reach them; his fingertips stopped well short.
He pushed at the stone.
It did not move.
He shifted his feet, leaned his weight against its edge, and tried again, but the slab was heavier than the earlier log, and the ground offered little purchase.
His shoes slipped in the dirt.
On the third attempt, the rough stone scraped the bandage-less cut across his palm, forcing him to withdraw his hand with a sharp breath.
He could have left it.
There were still hundreds of places to check, and he had no reason to think the ring lay beneath this particular stone. But he had seen something shine down there.
Yuuta found a narrow branch, worked it under the edge, and pressed down until the wood bowed. The slab lifted barely enough for a handful of pebbles to tumble free.
He wedged another stone beneath it, knelt beside the gap, and carefully swept away the loose earth with the end of the branch.
A small object glimmered near the back. Hope surged through him, and he reached for it before remembering the glass.
This time, he cleared the dirt first and lifted the object by its blunt edge. It was a bent metal clasp, blackened on one side by the explosion.
Yuuta let out a slow breath and placed it beside the rubble. The effort had earned him another cut and nothing more.
He sat back, rubbing the ache in his shoulder.
He couldn't return to the palace empty-handed.
He couldn't face Elena and tell her that he had lost something precious to her mother, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing Erza's empty expression again.
He had made a promise, and although he had no idea whether keeping it was possible, he wasn't ready to abandon it.
After a short rest, he stood and continued along the strip of ground he had yet to search.
Meanwhile, Erza
Erza stirred in her sleep, her fingers gently gripping the bedsheet. The unfamiliar room lay in darkness, but her surroundings were slowly fading from her awareness as memories she had buried for centuries began rising to the surface.
A faint smile appeared on her lips as she drifted deeper into her dream. For the first time in a very long while, she felt a familiar warmth, something she had almost forgotten.
She was a little girl again.
Her tiny bare feet pattered across the grand halls of the Dragon Palace. The stone floor was warm beneath her, heated by the ancient fires burning deep within the mountain. Enchanted torches illuminated the towering walls, their flames casting golden light across the passageways.
Little Erza ran happily through the palace, her small wings tucked against her back and her tail swaying behind her. Her laughter echoed through the enormous halls as she hurried toward the throne room.
Her mother was waiting for her.
The Dragon Queen was a towering figure, standing roughly five and a half cubits tall. Her scales shimmered like pure white snow, while elegant white horns rose from her head like a crown. Her violet eyes held a darkness that could intimidate even the mightiest dragons.
She sat upon a magnificent throne of obsidian and gold, her powerful hands resting calmly in her lap. Despite her imposing appearance, her expression softened when she noticed her daughter approaching.
"Mama," Erza said, skidding to a stop in front of her, her voice small and curious, the voice of a child who had not yet learned to be afraid of anything. "What is this ring?"
Her mother glanced down at the delicate ornament resting in her palm. Two silver bands were intertwined around a beautiful gemstone, their intricate design resembling the roots of an ancient tree growing together.
A gentle, ethereal light pulsed from the gemstone, carrying the faint colors of flowers that bloomed only once in a thousand years.
"This, my dear, is the Eternal Two Flower Ring," her mother said. Her voice was deep, comforting, the voice of someone who had seen the world change and had learned what mattered and what did not.
"It is a symbol of undying love. A bond that lasts beyond time itself."
Erza's eyes sparkled.
She reached out, her tiny claws tracing the intricate designs on the ring, the two bands that twisted and turned and never parted.
"But it's just one ring, Mama."
Her mother chuckled. The sound echoed through the grand hall, warm and full, the laugh of someone who had not laughed in a very long time.
"Ah, but it is not, my little demon. It is two rings, bound together as one. Waiting to be separated."
Erza tilted her head, confusion scrunching her small brow.
"Two rings? But why, Mama?"
"Because, my dear, when you find the one you truly love. The one who makes your heart burn brighter than the sun. The one who fills your soul with warmth. You break it apart. You keep one half. And you give the other to your beloved." She paused, her eyes soft.
"Forever binding your souls together."
Little Erza stared at the ring with growing fascination. She was still too young to understand love or the meaning of sharing her life with someone, but the thought of possessing something so beautiful filled her with excitement.
"Can I have it?"
Her mother smiled and gently brushed a massive claw against her daughter's cheek. Those same hands had crushed enemies and commanded armies, yet their touch was remarkably gentle whenever they held her.
"Of course, my precious daughter. One day, when you find someone worthy. Someone who loves you not for your power, but for who you are. You will break this ring and share it. It will become a symbol of your eternal bond."
Erza looked at the ring, then at her mother, then at the ring again. A small worry crept into her voice. "But what if it slips through my fingers, Mama? What if I lose it?"
Her mother smiled. It was a smile that held centuries of knowledge, centuries of loss, centuries of love that had been given and taken away.
"Do not worry, little one. The ring has its own soul. Once it is separated, once it finds the one it belongs to, it will attach to your finger for the rest of your life. Until death parts you. It will never leave you. It will never be lost."
Erza looked at her mother's hands, at the fingers that held the ring but did not wear it. "But, Mama, why did you not wear it?"
Her mother's expression changed.
For a moment, the powerful queen who ruled over the dragons seemed strangely distant. The warmth in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that little Erza had never seen before.
"We dragons," she said, and her voice was quieter now, softer,
"are not bound to love. We are bound to power. To duty. To the kingdom. I never found someone who made me want to break the ring. I never found someone who made me want to give it away."
Little Erza lowered her gaze, struggling to understand.
Her mother was married. She knew that much. Yet she had never seen the affection that existed between ordinary families, the warmth of two people who genuinely wished to remain beside one another.
Her mother ruled from a magnificent throne, surrounded by countless servants, soldiers, and nobles. She possessed a kingdom that stretched farther than Erza could imagine.
But why did she always seem so alone?
In the world of dragons, love was something they were taught to reserve for their children. They protected their offspring fiercely, willing to sacrifice anything for their survival.
But love between partners was different.
Marriage was often a matter of duty, power, and responsibility rather than affection. Dragons were expected to fulfill their obligations without allowing their hearts to interfere.
Little Erza didn't fully understand those expectations.
She only knew that her mother sometimes looked sad when she believed no one was watching.
Noticing her daughter's troubled expression, the queen gently lifted Erza's chin.
"But look," she said.
"The ring has been waiting. It has been waiting for you. It wants to go with you, little one. On your journey. To help you find the one you are meant to be with."
Erza's face brightened immediately.
She reached out with both hands and carefully accepted the ring, holding it as though it were the most precious treasure in the entire palace. The gemstone's gentle glow reflected in her violet eyes.
For a moment, she imagined a distant future in which she might share the ring with someone who would always remain beside her.
Then another question occurred to her.
"But, Mama," she whispered, a small worry creeping into her voice.
"Do I have to marry a dragon? Like you did?"
Her mother laughed. It was a deep, rumbling laugh, the laugh of someone who had been asked a question she had not expected and was delighted by it. She leaned down, her golden eyes sparkling, her face close to her daughter's.
"Are you afraid of other dragons, my little demon?"
Erza nodded quickly, her small wings fluttering, her tail curling around her leg. "Yes. Everyone hates me. Everyone wants to get rid of me, They are so mean to me. I am the weakest dragon. The smallest. The slowest, they said when I grow up, I'll only be three cubits and five handbreadths tall. Is it okay if my husband is not a dragon?"
Her mother's smile softened.
She understood the fear behind her daughter's innocent question. Little Erza had always struggled among the other young dragons, who mocked her small size and questioned whether she would ever become strong enough to deserve her royal blood.
The queen reached forward and cupped Erza's tiny face between her powerful claws.
Her voice became gentle, carrying a warmth she rarely allowed anyone else to hear.
"Yes, my dear. If you find someone, no matter what they are, who truly loves you, then follow your heart. Because in the end, love is love, Don't end up like me."
Erza's eyes filled with tears.
She threw her arms around her mother's thick neck and buried her face against her scales. The familiar warmth of her mother's embrace surrounded her, carrying the comforting scent of fire and home.
"Thank you, Mama. I will protect this ring forever. I will never lose it. I will never let it go."
Her mother held her close.
And for that brief moment, little Erza believed that nothing in the world could ever take away the happiness she felt.
The memory slowly faded.
The warmth of her mother's embrace disappeared, and the magnificent halls of the Dragon Palace dissolved into the darkness of an unfamiliar bedroom.
Erza's fingers tightened around the bedsheet.
Tears slipped from the corners of her closed eyes, staining the pillow beneath her head. Even in her sleep, her hands moved toward her chest as though searching for something that was no longer there.
"Mama," she whispered. Her voice was small, fragile, the voice of a child who had lost something precious and did not know how to get it back. "I am sorry. I lost it. I lost the ring."
Her body curled beneath the blanket, her arms wrapping tightly around herself.
She was the White Dragon Queen, a ruler who had faced armies, monsters, and powerful enemies without fear. Yet in the darkness of that unfamiliar room, she felt like the little girl who had once promised her mother that she would never lose the ring.
She had promised to protect it forever.
To treasure it.
To never let it leave her hands.
And now it was gone.
She had willingly surrendered it for a scholarship, for a school, for the future of her daughter and a mortal she had known for barely two weeks.
At the time, she had convinced herself that it was the right decision.
But now, with her mother's words echoing through her dreams, the regret was almost unbearable.
Erza closed her eyes more tightly, allowing the memories to surround her. She no longer had the strength to resist them.
And somewhere beyond the palace walls, a young man with red eyes and bleeding hands continued searching for the ring whose meaning he had never understood.
_______________________
Author's Note: Dragon memory is sharp as a blade. The moment a dragon loses something, they suffer terrible regret. Their brains are designed to remember everything, which becomes a curse. The moment Erza lost the ring, her memory began to return, every detail, every word, every promise she had made . This is the curse of dragon memory. This is what she has been running from since the moment she arrived in this world.
________________________
The hours blurred together as Yuuta reached the rougher ground near the forest.
The grass stood taller here, threaded with thorny creepers that caught his clothes and refused to let go.
He had to pull the stems apart slowly, searching between their roots before he could move another step.
Once, a thorn snagged the cut on his palm, and he instinctively jerked away, only to catch his torn sleeve on another branch.
He stopped fighting the tangle and worked himself free one piece at a time.
The process was painfully slow, but rushing had already cost him enough skin.
Beyond the vines lay another stretch of scattered rubble, including stones too large to lift outright.
He rolled the smaller ones aside and probed under the larger ones with the stick he had carried from the thicket, checking the disturbed soil without trying to force every obstacle out of the ground.
Behind him, the palace lights gradually disappeared as its occupants retired for the night.
Only a few windows remained illuminated, including the Headmaster's study and the rooms where Elena and Erza were staying.
Yuuta scarcely noticed.
He was concentrating on the next few feet of grass, then the next, marking the places he had examined so he would not waste precious time searching them again.
Something sparkled beneath a broken branch.
Yuuta froze, then lowered himself carefully and brushed away the leaves surrounding it.
The silver glint appeared once more, bright enough to make his heart race.
He reached for it with the fingers of his less-injured hand, but the moment he pulled it free, he recognized a shard from a shattered glass ornament. An edge nicked his thumb before he could set it down.
For several seconds, Yuuta stared at the blood gathering there.
The disappointment hurt more than the cut.
He had allowed himself to believe, just for an instant, that he could finally return to the palace with the ring.
Instead, he was holding another piece of the explosion's wreckage.
He tore a narrow strip from the already ruined lining of his sleeve and wrapped it around his palm. It wasn't much protection, but it let him grip the stick without reopening the worst of his wounds.
His knees ached each time he bent down, and his shoulder throbbed from moving the stone earlier, yet he had managed to clear another section of the field.
The ring might not be there.
It might have been thrown beyond the academy grounds, or buried too deeply for him to find. Yuuta knew that.
But he could not bring himself to leave the remaining patches unchecked. He pressed the end of his stick into the next clump of grass, parted the stalks, and looked beneath them.
From the palace walls, several guards watched Yuuta searching near the forest.
Even at this distance, they could see where he had dragged branches aside, rolled loose stones away from the ditch, and left narrow paths through the thorny grass.
They had witnessed countless families struggling through the academy's difficult selection process. Some had cried, others had argued, and a few had attempted to bend the rules in their favor.
None of them had watched a father turn an entire night into a painstaking search through debris and thorns for a single lost ring.
One of the guards took a hesitant step toward the stairs, clearly considering whether to offer assistance.
Another quietly reminded him of the Headmaster's orders.
They were forbidden from interfering.
The guards exchanged troubled glances before returning their attention to the field. They could only hope the exhausted young man would find what he was looking for before his body finally gave out.
In her room, Erza slowly opened her eyes.
She couldn't remember when she had fallen asleep. The last thing she recalled was lying on the bed, struggling against memories that refused to leave her in peace.
Now she sat upright, her cheeks damp with tears.
For a while, she remained on the edge of the bed, staring toward the window where pale moonlight streamed through the curtains.
Then she looked at her hand.
The finger that had carried her mother's ring for centuries was bare.
She gently touched the place where the silver band had once rested, tracing the faint mark left behind.
The ring was gone.
Erza lowered her hand.
She had known this already, yet seeing her empty finger made the loss feel painfully real.
With a quiet sigh, she rose from the bed and approached the window.
Outside, the academy grounds stretched beneath the moonlight. The distant mountains stood like dark silhouettes against the star-filled sky, while the surrounding forest swayed gently in the night breeze.
For a moment, Erza simply admired the peaceful scenery.
Then she noticed something.
A familiar scent drifted through the open air.
Blood.
Erza immediately stiffened.
She had smelled blood countless times throughout her life, on battlefields and during conflicts that had claimed thousands of lives. Normally, such a scent would barely attract her attention.
But something about this particular smell unsettled her.
She leaned closer to the window, her violet eyes narrowing as she searched the darkness below.
The field was marked by patches of disturbed earth and torn grass. Broken branches had been dragged out of the way, a heavy log lay at an awkward angle beside a ditch, and several stones had been shifted from their resting places. At first, Erza couldn't understand who would have gone to so much trouble in the middle of the night.
Then she noticed the crimson stains on the uprooted grass and along the pale surfaces of the stones. A dark smear marked one side of the fallen log, while smaller drops traced a path toward the forest.
Someone had been searching there for hours.
And judging by the blood left among the debris, that person had continued long after the work had begun to hurt.
Her chest tightened.
She scanned the field more carefully until she noticed a distant figure near the edge of the forest.
Someone was kneeling beside a patch of thorny grass. The figure held the stems apart with a broken stick and carefully examined the earth beneath them, unaware of the eyes watching from the palace.
Erza narrowed her eyes and activated her dragon sight.
The distant figure came into focus.
Messy black hair.
A borrowed suit torn at the sleeves and knees.
Hands marked by cuts and stained with soil.
A pale, exhausted face streaked with sweat and dirt.
Erza's breath caught in her throat.
Her heart stopped.
It was Yuuta.
Her mortal.
To Be Continue...