Elior awoke to a strange, gentle scent — a faint mix of mint and old paper.
The ceiling arched high above him, painted in pale silver-white, with thin runes gliding along it like silent fireflies. The light didn't come from any lamp but from crystal veins embedded in the walls, shining with a warmth like sunlight diffused through mist.
He blinked. The white sheet beneath him was smooth and cool, like running water.
At the next bed, Alice sat propped against a pillow, reading what looked like an Ether transcript. Her white hair fell loose over her shoulders, gleaming like strands of silver silk.
Lucen was still snoring, one arm wrapped tightly around his scorched jacket — probably a keepsake from the small explosion at the testing chamber yesterday.
"Finally awake?" Alice's voice chimed softly, like glass tapping glass.
"Yeah… feels like someone hit my head with a frying pan," Elior grumbled, trying to sit up.
Alice shrugged, a faint smile curling her lips. "Better than ending up in Infernal again, isn't it?"
Lucen stirred, squinting. "Who… said anything about a lake?"
"No one," Alice replied flatly. "Go back to sleep."
Footsteps echoed from the hallway — light, measured, rhythmic.
The door slid open, and the minty Ether scent flooded the room once more.
A woman stepped inside. She was tall and slender, her lilac hair neatly tied behind her head, revealing a face that was both stern and kind. Dozens of tiny crystal bracelets hung from her wrist, chiming faintly with each step.
Her long robe, the color of misted blue with silver trimming, swept the floor as she moved. When she came closer, Elior noticed her eyes — deep azure, calm and luminous, as if they could see thoughts before they were spoken.
"Well, the three stubborn patients are finally awake," she said, her voice low and warm.
"Welcome to Ether Recovery Room Three — where the overly curious come to be saved."
Lucen jumped up, grinning. "Curiosity is the mark of a good student!"
"It's also the reason good students explode," she said dryly, making Alice snicker.
Setting a crystal tray on the table, she revealed three silver-glowing pills.
"I'm Lyra Elenveil, head of medical arts at Astra Academy. Professor Solomon brought you here."
Elior flushed slightly. "We… didn't mean to, ma'am."
"No one ever means to," Lyra replied, a faint, knowing smile passing her lips. "But Ether doesn't care about intentions. It only answers those who reach for it — through faith, or through folly."
She handed each of them a pill.
"Take it before sleep. It'll quiet the Ether inside your bodies. Otherwise, you'll hear it whisper all night."
Lucen held the shimmering pill up to the light. "What does it taste like?"
"Regret," Lyra said. "But slightly sweeter."
The room went silent — then the three of them burst out laughing.
The healer smiled kindly, turned, and walked toward the door. Her robe swept lightly across the floor, stirring the crystal chimes on the walls like a passing windbell.
Before she disappeared, she added,
"You may go out now. The door will lead you to the Golden Hall of House Caelestis.
And remember this — don't chase the light while it sleeps."
The door closed softly behind her, leaving the faint scent of mint adrift in the air.
Lucen looked at Alice, whispering, "What does that even mean?"
Alice shrugged. "Probably one of those healer sayings."
Elior gazed at the pale gleam tracing the ceiling.
"Or a warning," he murmured. "That some lights can burn those who reach for them."
In the silence that followed, the crystal veins on the walls shimmered faintly, reflecting a thin azure glow in his eyes — a lingering echo from yesterday's dream.
The Ether Ward's door slid open. White-silver light flooded a long corridor lined with mirrored crystal.
The air carried the faint chill of refined metal, laced with traces of mint from the infirmary.
Elior stepped out first, still feeling thin threads of light clinging to him — the residue of a fading dream.
"...Feels like I just came back to life from inside a beam of light," Lucen whistled, stretching his shoulders.
"At least this time, we didn't get blown up," Alice replied softly, half amused, half weary.
A low, calm voice came from the far end of the hall:
"You three are from the First-Year Division, correct?"
The sound wasn't loud, yet the light on the walls seemed to ripple with it.
When they turned, a young man was standing at the intersection where two beams of light crossed — where walls and floor met in mirrored reflection.
His hair was ash-gold with a trace of silver, glowing faintly under the crystals like dissolving threads of light.
His pale blue eyes were so still that they seemed to see straight through the Ether surrounding them.
He wore a white coat trimmed with gold, beneath which shimmered a thin layer of energy armor.
A silver band engraved with runes glowed faintly with each of his breaths.
Lucen blinked. "Oh… you're—"
"Seraphan Aurel," Alice said quietly, almost under her breath. "Head Prefect of House Celestials."
Seraphan nodded slightly. The light around him shifted — as if breathing with him.
"I heard you three caused quite a commotion in the Infernal Wing yesterday?"
Elior hesitated. "We just wanted to test the portal's Ether response, sir."
"And ended up in the wrong location, I presume?" Seraphan's lips curved faintly; his tone was calm, but it carried the weight of a warning.
For a moment, Elior felt as though Seraphan wasn't seeing him with his eyes, but through the very vibration of the air around him.
His heartbeat stumbled — the corridor light dimmed for an instant, then brightened again.
"At least you're safe now," Seraphan continued, his gaze softening. "Consider that your first lesson."
The Ether in the hall quivered, resonating faintly like a string struck by a gentle note.
None of them spoke; the silence hummed softly against the crystal walls.
Seraphan turned toward the outer passage, his voice even but firm:
"Tomorrow, the Opening Ceremony will begin at seven sharp, at Astra's Core.
All students will be transferred through the Central Core Gate.
It's more than a ceremony — it's the Ether Resonance Rite, where every soul's frequency merges with the island's pulse."
A faint breeze drifted through, causing his robe to shimmer as if the Ether itself was breathing around him.
"Now go get some rest," Seraphan said. "You'll need your strength for what's coming.
And remember — here in Astra, every light has its price."
He bowed slightly, then turned away, leaving behind the soft, crystalline echo of Ether chimes lingering in the air.