That afternoon, Elior didn't leave his room.
He lay sprawled across the bed, eyes following the faint blue streaks of light drifting slowly across the ceiling. Everything felt unusually quiet—too quiet for Astra.
Lazily, he rummaged through the pocket of his white robe, which still carried the faint scent of Ether medicine. His fingers brushed against something cold and metallic—a tiny silver earpiece. Elior froze.
Right. He'd forgotten about the scout bug.
It was no bigger than a bean, purchased from The Whispering Shell—a strange little shop that sold "legally eavesdropping creatures."
The bug could transmit sound directly into an earpiece, but it would die if not "fed" within three days—a single drop of pure Ether energy was all it needed to live.
He had planted it on a man in a white cloak at The Glimmering Chalice.
That bar sat in the Lunaris District, southwest of Astra—a neighborhood reserved for high-ranking students and angelic citizens. By night, its crystal dome reflected the moonlight of Ether, glowing like a giant goblet holding the sky itself. Inside, the air was warm, scented with mint and fermented fruit, while soft lyre music floated among the slow-falling strings of crystal light.
It was there that Elior, Lucen, and Alice had spotted the silver-haired man in white—the one they suspected was a spy.
Lucen had caused a distraction with a mini Ether firework while Elior discreetly planted the bug on the man's cloak.
Now that same bug was somewhere out in Astra, still transmitting—perhaps.
Elior slipped the earpiece in.
Nothing but a whisper of static wind.
Maybe the signal was weak... or maybe the man had discovered it.
He sighed, keeping the earpiece on anyway, then pulled out the silver pill Lyra Elenveil had given him that morning.
"It helps the Ether in your body quiet down," the healer had said.
He swallowed the pill. A cool sensation spread down his throat, and soon, without realizing it, Elior drifted into sleep.
In his dream, he saw a dark chamber lined with cracked mirrors.
A man knelt in the center of the floor.
Before him stood Beliar—the Keeper of the Night Mirror.
He wore a long, silver-gray cloak that brushed the ground. The light in the room bent toward him, as if afraid to touch him. Two faint red embers glimmered in the shadow where his eyes should be, and whenever he spoke, the air trembled—like the world itself was adjusting its frequency just to hear his voice.
"My Lord Beliar," the kneeling man said, his voice shaking, "our armies have begun crossing the gate. The key positions within Astra are under control. The plan is flawless."
Beliar was silent.
He didn't smile. He didn't even nod.
Only the dark vapor coiling around him stirred, and when he finally spoke, his tone was low, cold—like the sound of ashes whispering in the wind.
"Continue.
Do not let the light realize it is being consumed."
He flicked his hand, and the man vanished into mist.
Elior tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The darkness around Beliar shifted—watching him.
He jerked awake.
Morning light flooded through the window, bright and white.
Sweat trickled down his forehead. Everything looked the same as before.
Just a dream... right?
It had to be.
He took a deep breath and stood up. Whatever it was, today was important.
The Golden Hall of House Caelestis shimmered with crystal light. Hundreds of beams rose from the floor, reflecting across the high dome. Elior stood alone at the foot of the stairs, staring into the golden haze ahead.
After a while, Lucen and Alice appeared. Lucen looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, hair sticking up wildly, while Alice adjusted the white ribbon at her collar.
"You all right?" she asked, noticing the pale look on his face.
"I'm fine," Elior lied. "Just... didn't sleep much."
Lucen smirked. "What, dreaming about explosions again?"
Elior didn't answer. The image of those red eyes still lingered in his mind.
Then the bells rang.
Students began filing into the hall. The first-year class of the Angelic House numbered only twelve. Behind them stood the intermediate and advanced classes, their robes in different colors, forming a spiral of Ether light like a living waterfall.
Before them, the Central Core Gate of Astra flared open, burning with light as white as noonfire.
One by one, groups of students stepped through the portal, dissolving into radiance on their way to the Heart of Astra—where the first Ether Resonance Ceremony of the year would begin.
Elior followed, heart pounding.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, Beliar's voice still whispered:
"Do not let the light realize it is being consumed."