The sun had begun to dip low beyond the tower ridges of Aetherfall Academy, casting long shadows across the noble wing corridors. By the time I returned to my quarters, the silver ward on my door glowed faintly, reacting to my mana signature before unlatching with a soft click.
The room welcomed me with silence.
But something new sat upon the desk.
A folded parchment sealed with gold wax bearing the insignia of the Aetherfall Crest—a spiral of six stars surrounding a rising tower. Its edges shimmered faintly with aether, a telltale sign that the message was delivered through formal channels, not hand-passed like gossip.
I broke the seal gently and opened the letter.
To Luna Gadriel of the Celestial Order,
You are cordially invited to attend the Aetherfall Assembly for Sponsored Entrants, held this evening at the Grand Hall of Echoes.
This gathering marks your official welcome as part of the sponsored cohort for this academic term. The headmaster and faculty will deliver their address regarding your stay, alongside a formal introduction to fellow guild, noble, and external body-sponsored students.
Formal uniform is not required, but respectable attire is expected.
Your presence is both requested and recorded.
— Council of Admissions
I stared at the last line for a moment.
Recorded.
So this was more than just a welcome party—it was a form of judgment. Observation behind velvet and charm. The academy's way of measuring who we were before we even spoke.
I folded the letter and placed it back on the desk.
A small gathering… but already I can feel the weight it carries.
I made my way to the mirror, brushing the creases from my robe and gathering my hair. The silence in the room didn't last.
From the corner of my awareness, I could feel Solviel's subtle stir—like light shifting through glass.
"It's only a gathering," I whispered aloud, to myself more than her.
But even I didn't believe that.
I stood before the polished mirror, the steam from the enchanted basin still curling faintly behind me.
For the first time in a long while, I let my golden hair fall freely down my back—washed, brushed, and untamed, reaching just past my waist in soft waves. It shimmered with a pale glow under the lantern light, catching the red-gold hues of the setting sun through the lotus-shaped window.
No armor. No lance.Just a deep crimson dress, finely woven, cinched gently at the waist with a braided golden thread. It was formal, but unburdened by opulence—elegant enough to match the noble standards without trying to scream them. The skirt parted slightly down the right leg, just enough for movement and grace.
My sandals were simple but heeled—enough to give me presence among those who would judge on posture and height alone.
They want to see the girl behind the name.
Let them.
As I adjusted the final clasp on the back of my shoulder strap, the room stirred—just slightly.
A flicker.
A quiet tremor in the air like the first note of a song that hadn't been played in some time.
Then I heard her.
Solviel.
"...Luna."
Her voice didn't echo like a thousand stars or crash like a divine chorus, as it once did during the Temple Ceremonies.
No.Tonight, it was soft. Human. Almost... tired.
"You're awake," I said aloud, not turning from the mirror.
"I am."
The silence between us stretched, not with discomfort, but heaviness. Years and days of unspoken thoughts hung between every word.
"Why now?"
A pause.
"Because I owe you an apology."
I turned then, slowly, facing the space where her presence hovered in the air, warm and golden—like the quiet light before dawn.
"You've never needed to apologize before."
"I do now. For not moving when you bled. For not speaking when you cried. For not striking when they called me useless."
Her voice faltered only once. That alone startled me more than anything.
"I wanted to help... but I feared what helping you would cost. Not for myself. But for you."
"Because of Gren."
"Because of everything I failed to be."
I stepped closer to the center of the room, my sandals clicking softly on the polished stone floor.
"Then be different now," I said. "Speak. Teach. Stand with me when I need you—not just in battle, but here."
"I will."
A soft light bloomed for only a moment—her presence taking shape behind me in the mirror, not fully formed, but enough.
She didn't shine with celestial fire this time.She simply stood beside me.
For the first time... as my equal.
"Then let's go," I whispered, turning back to the mirror. "It's only a gathering."
"It never is." she murmured.
And we both knew she was right.
The Main Hall of Echoes stood like a cathedral carved from memory and starlight.
Its ceiling, vaulted high above, shimmered with enchanted constellations that slowly shifted, mirroring the night sky. Tall obsidian pillars lined the walls, etched with names of previous prodigies—gold-inked scripts of old students who had risen to legendary heights. The polished floor mirrored it all like a still lake, broken only by footsteps and the swirl of robes.
And there were many footsteps now.
Nobles. Guild scions. Sponsored heirs.
The crowd within was dressed in finery—rich velvet, silver-threaded cloaks, trailing spiritweave robes—each of them whispering, laughing politely, or measuring others with discreet glances.
I walked in, the hem of my crimson dress brushing across the glass-like floor, Solviel's presence quiet but close beside me like a warm breath.
The moment I stepped past the threshold, the atmosphere shifted.
Heads turned. Conversations slowed.
I felt it.
Their eyes.
Not out of fear or respect—yet.But out of curiosity. Weight. Expectation.
Let them look.
I didn't lower my gaze. I walked as I always did. Straight-backed. Balanced. Controlled.
If I was to be measured tonight, then I would set the scale.
Near the center of the hall, beneath a large spiraling chandelier of suspended crystals, a cluster of finely dressed students stood gathered around a tall youth clad in navy and gold. He held a flute glass casually, his blonde hair brushed to one side, his face sharp and fair like a marble statue carved under divine commission.
I recognized the sun sigil on his chest immediately.
House Astiel.
He noticed me too.
The moment our eyes met, he smiled—not arrogantly, but as if greeting a sunbeam that had arrived late but was worth the wait.
He stepped forward before any of his entourage could stop him.
"And here I thought the evening had already reached its peak."
His voice was smooth, polished, confident.
"But now I see I was mistaken."
He stopped a respectful pace from me and offered a slight bow, hand over his heart.
"Luna Gadriel, if I may be so bold—tonight you've stolen the breath of every room you've walked through. And perhaps a few fates as well."
I met his gaze, unreadable.
"You must be the son of Lord Astiel."
"Indeed. Calian Astiel. Though I'd prefer if you remembered me for more than that."
"We'll see," I replied, cool but not unkind.
He laughed—soft and genuine.
"A fair answer. I don't expect my titles to matter much to someone like you."
Around us, the buzz of voices resumed. I could feel the ripple his approach had caused. Not all pleasant. Not all subtle.
But I wasn't here to please them.
Calian offered his arm, gentlemanly but without pressure.
"Would you care to join our circle, Lady Luna?"
I glanced past him. Half of the group wore smiles too perfect to be real. The other half looked like they'd bite through glass.
"Perhaps in a while," I said. "I prefer to observe before I dance."
He inclined his head with another amused smile.
"Then I'll consider that a promise yet to bloom."
As he turned to rejoin his circle, I felt Solviel whisper within me again, almost amused.
"He speaks in petals and dresses it as poetry. Be careful, Luna—flowers can be venomous too."
"I know," I murmured back, slipping through the crowd once more, "but they make good kindling."
As the chimes echoed from the aether-bells above, signaling the arrival of the headmaster soon, I continued my quiet walk across the marble-lit edge of the gathering.
But then—
That same presence again.
Still. Cold. Not hostile, but distant.
I turned my head, and there she was.
Leaning gently against the far wall of the hall, half-veiled in shadow cast by an obsidian pillar, stood the snow-haired girl I passed in the garden earlier.
This time, I saw her clearly.
She wasn't tall—slightly shorter than me—but her posture made her feel untouchable. She wore the standard black-and-silver robe of the noble-sponsored students, but somehow the cloth felt like it belonged to her more than to the Academy.
Her hair, white like powdered frost, shimmered faintly in the chandelier's light. It wasn't curled or intricately done like most noble girls here—it simply flowed down straight to her back, quiet and simple.
And her eyes...
They were the strangest part.
Not in color, but in expression. They held the stillness of a frozen lake, and something deeper underneath. Pain, maybe. Or patience.
She met my gaze.
Not in challenge.Not in deference.
Just... silence. Calm. Pure.
"You were the girl from the wisteria path," I said.
She blinked once, as if confirming something.
Then, finally, she spoke. Her voice was soft, but there was something sharp beneath it—like snow hiding stone.
"You noticed."
"It's hard not to."
She didn't offer her name. Nor ask for mine.
Instead, her gaze drifted over me for a second—not rudely, not mockingly. Just... studying.
"Red suits you," she said.
"And white suits the moon," I replied.
That made her blink, then—only then—did a smile touch the edge of her lips. Barely there. Fleeting.
"Poetic," she said.
Before I could speak again, the lights of the hall began to dim, and the great runes atop the faculty gate blazed to life.
The headmaster was arriving.
The girl gave me one last look.
"Luna Gadriel," she said—not as a question, but a quiet fact.
"We'll speak again."
And with that, she turned, disappearing into the crowd like falling snow.
Who was she...?
That thought stayed with me, even as the hall fell into quiet.
Even as the Headmaster of Aetherfall stepped onto the silver dais, the wind of authority swirling around his cloak like fate itself.