"Still, that is one strange scroll, isn't it?" Elowynn mused, adjusting the leather strap of her satchel as we stepped out of the Archive Annex into the open hallway.
The sun filtering through the high-arched stained glass scattered soft amber hues across the tiled floor. Students passed us by—some chatting, others clutching stacks of books, all seemingly unaware of the history buried just beyond that brass door.
"It is," I replied. "But we can't be nosy for information that falls outside our task."
Elowynn glanced sideways at me, a faint smile tugging her lips.
"You're one responsible fellow. I like that."
I didn't say anything for a moment. Responsibility, perhaps. But there was also fear—fear of what truth we might unravel if we dug too deep. Solviel had gone quiet again, her presence withdrawn after what she'd said in the archive.
"You think that sigil was something dangerous?" Elowynn asked, brushing a lock of silver-blonde hair behind her ear.
"I think… some things are left hidden for a reason," I said quietly.
She didn't press further. Elowynn was sharp, that much I'd come to understand, but she also respected silence when it was needed.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon beneath the shade of the academy's courtyard, each with a book in hand, scribbling translations and notes from what we remembered. Runes scattered across pages in patterns, some with purpose, others yet to be deciphered. Between ink stains and muttered phrases, I found myself watching the clouds above more often than the runes below.
Somewhere in those drifting shapes, I thought about the spiral. About the whisper.
"So… this is your new vessel?"
It hadn't come from Solviel. It was deeper. Hungrier.
And it knew me.
Later that evening, as I returned to my quarters and loosened the ribbon from my hair, Solviel finally stirred.
Her voice was softer than before—like warm glass beginning to crack.
"You did well not to speak it aloud."
"You mean… Gren Leviyatan."
"…Even his name disturbs the natural order, Luna. You must be careful. The world buried him. Do not be the one to awaken what sleeps beneath that silence."
"He spoke to me."
A pause. Then:
"No… not him. A fragment, perhaps. A leftover will. That is even more concerning."
I sat down on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands.
"What was he, really?"
"…A spirit. Once. But unlike us, he was not born of domain or principle. He was born of defiance. Of the unformed chaos between things."
"And the scroll?"
"The First King of the Mourning feared many things—but that symbol, Luna… he feared that more than death itself."
I stared at the rune again from my memory—each stroke burned into my thoughts like it had always been there.
Some doors are not locked.Some are sealed because whatever's behind them is still listening.
"Right… how is your fragment, the one tainted by him, doing?" I asked, my voice low beneath the hum of the lanterns.
There was a long pause. A silence not out of hesitation, but of careful weighing—as if she were choosing not words, but which truths could be safely spoken.
"It's still there," Solviel said finally. "Still the same presence… dormant, but unchanged."
"Is that why you sleep?" I asked.
"Yes. I've been using my own resonance to pulse through the fractured piece… hoping to purify it, or at least stabilize it. It is slow, Luna. I've had to focus most of my strength inward. That's why I've seemed distant."
"I understand now. I was frustrated before, thinking you were just choosing to be absent. I didn't see the cost."
There was something oddly intimate about this admission. Solviel wasn't just a spirit. She was struggling—like me, trying to reconcile what she was with what she once failed to be.
We grew quiet.
On the table beside me, our copied rune page remained half-translated. We'd made only modest progress decoding it, despite our effort. The lines danced just beyond comprehension—almost sentient in their difficulty.
But still, it was something. A beginning.
"We made little progress on the complex rune," I murmured, "but that's better than nothing. Maybe we'll go faster tomorrow."
"You always see the value in what's gained, even in scraps. That's a rare quality, Luna."
I smiled faintly.
"We were given permission to explore the city, remember? Maybe we'll find something useful in the marketplace or one of the old bookstores." I stretched my arms toward the window, where moonlight spilled across the cobblestone pathways far below.
A breeze touched the curtains. Night was calm. For now.
"You'll join me, right?" I asked quietly.
"Of course. I'll stay near. As always."
Even if broken, Solviel remained. Even if haunted by a tainted shard, she had not turned away. And I... I would carry that weight with her.
The morning breeze brushed through the academy gardens as I walked beside Lady Elowynn. The cobbled path curved beneath flowering wisteria trees, their petals drifting like soft feathers under the pale light.
I noticed him again.
The boy I'd seen on my first day—back when the halls were still unfamiliar and my senses were overwhelmed by the buzz of nobles and scholars. I had only caught a glimpse then: someone dressed differently, eyes scanning the surroundings like a quiet observer rather than a participant.
Now, he stood beside Elowynn, speaking with her casually, as if they'd known each other far longer than I'd been in Aetherfall.
Not a servant. At least, not in the usual sense. He wore a hooded gray tunic, sleeves rolled slightly, dark loose trousers, and white footwear that caught the light oddly—nothing local. Everything about him was slightly… offbeat.
"Ah, Luna," Elowynn greeted me with a small smile. "Hope you don't mind—I invited someone to join us."
The boy turned.He smiled—not a forced, polite smile, but one born of faint amusement. Friendly. Confident. Present.
"You…" I said before catching myself. "I've seen you before. On my first day here."
"Yeah," he replied, "you looked like you were seeing the world for the first time."
"It felt like it," I admitted. "You don't look like you're from Cindral."
"Well… I'm not," he said with a small chuckle.
"Then where are you from?"
"Definitely not here."
He said it so plainly, as though it wasn't meant to be mysterious—but it was. There was something in his voice. Not a lie. Not even a half-truth. Just… a reluctance to be fully known.
"That's not really an answer," I said, narrowing my eyes slightly.
"No, but it's an honest one."
He smiled again, and this time, it lingered just a bit longer.
"Do you always speak in riddles?" I asked.
"Only when people ask the kind of questions I can't really answer."
Elowynn smirked beside me. "See? Told you he's annoying."
"I'm used to being stared at," he added, glancing briefly at me. "But not usually questioned so directly."
"Get used to it," I replied, folding my arms. "Aetherfall is full of eyes—and I'm not fond of mysteries."
"Then we're going to get along just fine," he said.
I wasn't sure what to make of him. He was hard to read—not because he was closed off, but because there was too much openness in him, like someone who had learned to wear masks that were never quite real.
"There's a ripple," Solviel murmured within me. "This one walks like a thread pulled from another loom."
I didn't respond to her. Not yet.
Because for all his mystery…He didn't feel threatening. Just out of place. Like a question waiting to be asked.
We walked beneath the pale canopy of white-leaf trees, our footsteps echoing softly on the marble path that cut through the outer courtyard of Aetherfall. The wind carried the scent of rain that hadn't fallen yet.
The boy—Ezekiel, I now learned—walked beside us, hands tucked into his sleeves, slightly hunched but alert. There was no sign of a leash or mark. No visible brand that chained him.
But when I asked—
"So Ezekiel… how did you end up here?"
He turned his head slightly, blinking at the question as though surprised I had asked so directly.
"I was purchased by Elowynn as a slave."
I stopped in my tracks. The words struck harder than they should have. My mind resisted them, but my spirit did not.He wasn't lying.
"Yes," Elowynn said calmly, glancing sideways at me. "I did purchase him."
She said it with such finality, like it was no more than acquiring a rare book or a piece of jewelry.
"Why?" I asked, more sharply than intended.
"I needed a new servant. One capable of being here." Her tone didn't flinch. "One who wouldn't falter around nobles, who could adapt."
I looked at Ezekiel again. He didn't seem broken like most of the slaves I'd seen in distant towns. No hollow eyes. No fear in his steps. Just… presence. Controlled, but not defeated.
"Right… I heard the academy has classes for servants too," I murmured, attempting to shift the weight of the air.
"Yeah," Ezekiel nodded. "They cover basics—reading, writing, etiquette. And some things like cleaning, cooking. A little bit of everything."
"What are you going to do today?" he added, rubbing the back of his head.
I glanced at Elowynn before replying.
"We're heading to the archives. Trying to decipher a set of complex runes—something from the First King of the Mourning's era."
"That sounds like something far above my head," he chuckled lightly.
And once again—he wasn't lying.
He truly believed he couldn't help. That much was clear. But somehow, it didn't feel like false modesty. More like a genuine... limitation. Not lack of intelligence, but of familiarity.
Still, I tilted my head and considered him.
"Maybe another mind will help. Even if it's just to see it from a different angle."
He blinked. "You'd really let me?"
"You're already walking with us. Might as well earn your steps," I replied, trying not to sound too interested.
"And I don't mind," Elowynn added casually. "It's not like he has anything better to do."
He gave a lopsided smile but said nothing more.
Still, I couldn't shake the weight in my chest.A slave. A purchased soul… yet so freely spoken.And yet, something about him felt like he didn't belong in chains—like he had slipped past fate's design and was playing a role never meant for him.
Solviel's voice stirred again, faint and measured.
"A soul not bound by this world's roots... strange."
"Yes…" I whispered back beneath my breath. "Very strange."