A knock echoed through the quiet room just as the first blue light of dawn spilled through the window.
Elior stirred, half tangled in his blanket. Before he could answer, a familiar, indignant voice rang from the other side of the door.
"Elior! You're unbelievable—you went to eat without me?"
He blinked, dragged himself up, and opened the door to find Lucen standing there, arms crossed, hair sticking out at odd angles, the very picture of righteous betrayal.
"I didn't mean to—" Elior began.
"No excuses!" Lucen huffed. "This morning, I'm taking you both out for breakfast. A real one, outside the academy walls!"
Across the hall, Alice leaned against her doorway, arms folded, an amused spark in her eyes.
"As long as it's not one of your Ether 'experiments' again," she said dryly.
Lucen flicked his hair. "That was one time. Ten minutes, main hall. Don't be late!"
They met under the soaring arches of the Great Hall, where sunlight and Ether light blended into shimmering rivers that flowed across the marble floor. Students moved in a slow current of robes and chatter, but the three of them slipped quietly toward the western gate — a large, dust-coated door marked with faintly glowing runes that read:
"Outer District — Authorized Guardians or Upper-Class Students Only."
Lucen gave a low whistle.
"Well… that sounds promising."
"Or illegal," Alice muttered.
The door creaked open, metal groaning against metal.
Beyond it stretched a vast expanse of air and silver mist. The outer wall of Astra rose like a mountain of white-gold stone, its surface carved with runes that shimmered faintly under the pale light. Far below, the lower districts glimmered like drifting islands, while near the gate stood several guards in white-and-silver armor, energy spears in hand.
One of them stepped forward, voice clipped and formal.
"Passes, please."
Elior hesitated. "We were just going to take a quick look—"
"Denied." The guard's tone was sharp. "First-year students may not leave the academy without a guardian or assigned instructor. Headmaster's order. No exceptions."
Lucen groaned. "Well, so much for breakfast."
"Told you," Alice murmured.
They had turned halfway back when Lucen stopped, eyes bright with that familiar spark of trouble.
"Hey," he said softly, "you two feel like breaking a tiny rule?"
Alice raised an eyebrow. "You mean the kind of 'tiny' that got half the dormitory evacuated last time?"
"This'll be fine," Lucen said, already holding out his hand. "Come on—trust me."
Elior sighed, but placed his hand over Lucen's. Alice did the same.
Lucen inhaled sharply, Ether light gathering around them in blue ripples.
"Short-range teleport—go!"
The world twisted.
Then pop! — they appeared a few meters past the gate.
Lucen was sweating now. "Not far enough. Again!"
Pop!
Pop!
By the third jump, the ground solidified beneath them—a cobbled street slick with mist. The air smelled faintly of bread and ozone. Lucen straightened up, grinning triumphantly.
"See? Easy."
Elior didn't answer—he had collided with someone.
A man in a pristine white cloak stood before him, tall, slender, motionless. Elior stumbled an apology, reaching out instinctively—and felt the man jerk away as the edge of the cloak tore slightly, revealing a glimpse beneath.
Black fabric.
Threads of silver.
The stranger turned his face—pale, sharp, and utterly cold. He met Elior's eyes for a heartbeat, then brushed past without a word, vanishing into the drifting morning fog.
Lucen blinked. "What was his problem?"
Elior didn't reply. He looked down at his hand.
A few black threads clung to his fingers, faintly pulsing with a symbol drawn in dried blood — a broken six-pointed star.
The morning light beyond the great wall seemed to dim. Even the sun hesitated behind the clouds.
Elior swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Who… was that man?"