The golden gates of Paladas shut behind them with a low echo, cutting off the wind and wilds of the realm beyond. Inside, the world changed—vast marble corridors, runes pulsing like breath beneath polished floors, and archways bathed in twilight hues from stained-glass skylights high above. Magic hung in the air like fine mist.
For many, entering Paladas Academy was like stepping into a dream.
For Nagara Veldorys, it felt more like a trial.
His cloak, still flecked with frost from his earlier battle, trailed behind him as he strode ahead. Every step was deliberate, his posture rigid with the pride of someone who had something to prove—or something to reclaim.
Trailing behind him were the two odd students he had just saved.
The silence between them was heavy until Nagara abruptly stopped, turning to face them in the center of a wide hall where enchantments glowed faintly overhead.
Nagara's voice was crisp and commanding. "You both owe me. Tell me where the headmaster is."
The boy blinked, expression unreadable. "Professor Lazlark typically stays in the East Spire—top floor. I can help you go there."
"I don't need a guide," Nagara said coolly. "Just directions."
"You received exactly that," Azlin replied mildly. "Anything else would be... hospitality."
The girl tilted her head, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between amused and unimpressed. "You're a bold one," she mused aloud, her tone honeyed with disdain. "First a dramatic rescue, now barking orders. Tell me—are all mysterious cloaked strangers this charming, or is it just you?"
Nagara's eyes narrowed slightly. "If I hadn't stepped in, you'd be Jinn kindling."
"Yes, thank you so much for that, my dear hero." the girl said in sarcasm.
"I'm not a hero."
"Yet you demand to be treated like that, oh I am very grateful for that, truly." sarcasm after sarcasm.
Nagara did notice her sarcasm, which annoyed him successfully.
The boy-who seemed to be more mature and wise held up a hand before they could escalate further. "We're all still standing. Perhaps let's save the snark until after we meet the headmaster?"
Nagara huffed but didn't argue further. He turned on his heel. "Lead the way, then."
The girl brushed past him with a deliberate flip of her braid, her perfume sharp with rose and citrus. "Try not to get lost. The academy's hallways don't take kindly to brooding and arrogant types."
Nagara glanced sideways at the boy, deadpan. "Does she always like this?"
The boy smiled faintly. "Only when she's annoyed. You're doing quite well."
Their footsteps echoed deeper into the ancient halls of Paladas, three mismatched souls bound by accident, resentment, and the strange whisper of fate.