Rael's eyes fluttered open to soft sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains. The room smelled faintly of lavender, the air still and quiet. His limbs felt heavy, his body sore—burnt out from the battle. As he sat up slightly, he realized… this wasn't his room. The bed was softer, the furniture more ornate, and on the edge of the nearby desk, a ribbon embroidered with the Vaeloria crest.
Eris's room...?
To his surprise, not one—but three figures lay asleep nearby. Evelyn slumped in the reading chair, clutching her staff even in sleep. Lyra curled up near the windowsill, her silver hair draped over her arms. But it was Eris, resting beside him on the edge of the bed, who caught his attention most. Her face was peaceful, but faint trails of dried tears clung to her cheeks, and even now, her eyelids fluttered, as if caught in a troubled dream.
Rael blinked. Then a soft voice interrupted the stillness.
"You're awake."
Raiden Valenhart stood by the door, arms crossed, his silver eyes sharp with both relief and scrutiny. His usual cold demeanor was softened, just slightly.
Rael tried to sit up but winced.
"How long?" he asked hoarsely.
Raiden stepped forward. "Two days. You were completely drained. Even with healing magic, your body needed time."
Rael's eyes drifted to the girls again. He felt a twinge of warmth—and guilt. They'd stayed by his side?
Raiden continued, his tone shifting. "Headmistress Lira Moonshade wants to speak with you. She said it's urgent."
With Raiden's help, Rael slowly stood and dressed. He didn't wake the others. Something in him felt… peaceful. But it wouldn't last.
---
The Headmistress's office was bathed in moonlight and silence. Books lined the walls, enchanted torches flickering dimly. Lira Moonshade stood by the wide window, her long silver hair cascading like a waterfall, her hands clasped behind her back.
She turned as he entered, her violet eyes unreadable.
"Rael."
"Headmistress."
She gestured for him to sit. "I'll keep this brief. I want to know what happened—what truly happened—during the rescue mission. The part that wasn't reported."
Rael said nothing at first. His eyes lowered.
"I asked Lyra, Raiden, and Evelyn. All of them gave minimal answers," she continued. "But you... you vanished before the strike teams moved. You weren't assigned to infiltrate the demon stronghold. And yet, Eris was rescued by you—alone."
Rael's silence was his answer.
After a long pause, Lira sighed and moved to sit behind her desk.
""You're unlike any student I've ever seen… and I don't believe for a second that you're just an ordinary boy from Eldoria."
Rael looked up, surprised.
She added, her voice softer now, "I haven't reported your actions to the council. You prefer to remain unnoticed. I'll respect that. But be warned—what you did, what you fought—it wasn't just a demon, was it?"
Rael's expression darkened.
Lira leaned forward. "You suspect a connection to the Nameless God."
He met her gaze. "I don't suspect. I know. That demon was a disciple. A high general in its army. They're preparing something."
She nodded slowly. "Then you'll want to go after them."
Rael stood. "Yes. I need to find out where they're gathering. What they're planning."
Lira rose too, stepping around her desk to face him directly. "You may be a student here, Rael, but you're carrying a war on your shoulders. I won't stop you—but be careful. You're not invincible."
He nodded. "Thank you, Headmistress."
As he turned to leave, Lira added one final note. "Don't shoulder everything alone. Let those who care about you help."
---
The cool night air greeted him as he stepped outside. He pulled his cloak tight, eyes scanning the horizon.
Beyond the mountains… beyond the ruins… beyond even Eldoria's borders, the shadows of the Nameless God stirred.
And Rael Ramos—last of the Solari Ascendants—would face them. Alone, if he must.
But not without hope.
The war had only just begun.
---
Back in his dorm room, the three girls stirred, finding his bed empty.
Lyra sighed. "Gone again."
Evelyn looked down. "He didn't even say goodbye."
Eris, still clutching the sleeve of his cloak left behind on the chair, whispered,
"Idiot… you better come back."