Mysteries upon mysteries piled up, leaving Leon thoroughly baffled by the enigmatic figure of Mevis. The pieces of the puzzle—the diary, the photograph, the recorded death—formed a picture that was both terrifying and impossible to ignore.
Even without fully understanding the sequence of events or the nature of the contract hinted at in the diary's flashback, Leon was determined not to let a mysterious figure like Mevis—a woman seemingly resurrected from the dead—continue to linger by his daughter's side.
Rossweise shared the same conviction. The potential threat, however vague, was unacceptable. Without much hesitation, the couple set off for St. Heath's Academy under the cover of the pre-dawn darkness.
"But if Mevis truly has ulterior motives, what could they possibly be?" Rossweise voiced her thoughts aloud as they flew, the wind whipping past them. "Getting close to Noah? Gaining her trust? Or is it something else entirely? Something to do with... you?"
Leon frowned deeply; it was rare for him to feel this lost and unsettled about a situation. Every instinct screamed danger, but the nature of that danger remained shrouded.
Faced with his wife's questions, Leon couldn't provide a clear or definitive answer this time.
"All I know for certain is that whatever her goal is, it doesn't seem to involve replacing Noah outright or harming her physically—at least not for now." His voice was low, laced with frustration. "Her actions have been nothing but beneficial to Noah's training and well-being."
Leon pressed his lips together and continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the academy lay. "Regardless, her background is too vague, too fabricated. The academic investigation likely only uncovered the identity she carefully constructed before submitting her credentials, which explains why they found nothing amiss.
"We were incredibly, improbably lucky to stumble upon that diary."
Looking back now, Leon couldn't help but feel a profound chill. The coincidence felt less like luck and more like being led.
Mevis, who should have perished along with the Black Moon Dragon Clan thirty years ago, now stood as Noah's respected teacher at St. Heath's Academy, interacting with her daily.
Were any of her words true?
If true, she indeed hailed from the extinct Black Moon Dragon Clan, a ghost from a forgotten war.
But if false, how could she so perfectly claim the identity of a specific, deceased individual? And for what purpose?
What exactly happened to her after the collapse of her clan three decades ago?
Did she encounter someone on that battlefield? Make certain promises?
Or perhaps strike the kind of deal that binds a soul to a purpose beyond death...
Leon rubbed his temples, his thoughts a tangled, chaotic web. The image from the flashback—the spectral woman with midnight eyes, the contract forged in desperation—haunted him.
Even so, his resolve was ironclad. He would head to the academy and protect Noah. He and Rossweise agreed they wouldn't let their daughter face such unknown, metaphysical risks alone.
.
.
.
Hours Later - St. Heath's Academy
At dawn, the couple landed discreetly outside the academy grounds. The first classes of the day had already begun. Leon gestured toward the administration building in the distance.
"You go find Principal Olette," he said to Rossweise. "Show her the diary. Explain Mevis's situation as we understand it. I'll head straight to the training hall to find Noah."
Rossweise nodded, her silver eyes filled with shared concern. "Be careful. Do not engage Mevis alone if she is there."
"Got it."
With their plan set, the two parted ways at the campus crossroads.
Leon crossed the dew-covered grassy field and arrived at the training grounds connected to the main arena. Pushing open the heavy door to the hall Noah frequently used for practice, he looked around, his heart immediately sinking. The vast hall was empty; neither Noah nor Mevis was in sight.
A cold dread began to pool in his stomach. He hurried further inside, about to call out Noah's name, when he heard a faint, heart-wrenching sound—muffled sobbing coming from the high audience stands.
Turning sharply toward the sound, he saw her. Noah was sitting alone in the shadowed corner of the very back row. Her small shoulders trembled uncontrollably as she cried into her hands, the sounds quiet but full of despair.
Leon's chest tightened. He rushed over, taking the steps two at a time.
"Noah! What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with alarm as he knelt beside her.
As he drew closer, Leon noticed a piece of parchment clutched tightly in her hands. The paper was crumpled, bearing the unmistakable smudges of fallen tears.
Noah raised her tear-streaked face to look at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swimming with fresh tears.
"Dad... Teacher Mevis is gone."
She wiped clumsily at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffing hard before asking in a small, broken voice,
"Why are you here, Dad?"
"Well, I..."
Leon stammered, the truth jamming in his throat. He couldn't say he'd come because he believed her teacher was a resurrected ghost with a mysterious pact.
Before he could formulate a gentle lie, Noah looked down at the letter in her hands and said, her voice barely a whisper,
"She left. She's gone."
"She... who?"
"Teacher Mevis..."
Noah's shoulders shook with another silent sob.
Crushed by the weight of her emotions, she crumpled the letter further in her hands, biting her lip hard to stifle another cry.
"Why did she leave without saying a word to me...? Why just a letter?"
"Mevis... is gone?!" The news was as shocking as it was timely.
Leon opened his mouth, but countless questions fought for prominence, leaving him speechless. Was this a retreat? Had she discovered their investigation?
After a brief, internal struggle, he decided to ask nothing. This wasn't the time for an interrogation.
Leon knew that to Noah, Mevis was nothing more than a kind, capable, and inspiring mentor. She was unaware of the diaries, the photographs, or the battles fought thirty years ago.
To Noah, Mevis was a trusted teacher and a friend she had grown to admire.
For such a figure to vanish suddenly, leaving behind only a cold letter, was undoubtedly a devastating, personal blow.
Leon realized that telling Noah now that her beloved teacher might be a walking spirit would be cruel and unnecessary. Even if she could somehow believe it, the psychological shock would be immense.
So instead, Leon pushed his own turmoil aside. He gently stroked Noah's shoulder, then pulled her into a firm, secure embrace, letting her cry against his shoulder.
"Maybe... maybe Teacher Mevis had reasons she couldn't explain," he said softly, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Important, complicated reasons, which is why she had to leave like this."
"Do you really think so, Dad...?" Noah's voice was muffled against his jacket.
"I do. Adults... sometimes have burdens they can't share, even with those they care about."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "And besides, Mevis didn't completely disappear without a word—she left you a letter, didn't she? That means she was thinking of you. She wanted to say goodbye in the only way she could."
Noah sniffled, leaning deeper into her father's warm, solid embrace. Her gaze fell upon the crumpled letter.
Through her blurry vision, she could still make out the final line, written in Mevis's elegant script:
"I will wait for you in the true future.
—Your teacher, Mevis Damirlo."
Her father's words offered a small measure of comfort, a lifeline in her confusion, but the sharp pain of abandonment still lingered, clouding her thoughts. Noah carefully, almost reverently, folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket, then rested her head fully against Leon's chest, closing her eyes as if trying to shut out the world.
About Half an Hour Later - Principal's Office
Leon brought a calmer, but still visibly downcast, Noah to the principal's office.
Opening the door, they found the room silent except for the methodical ticking of the grand clock on the wall.
Rossweise and Principal Olette sat facing each other across the large oak desk, the air between them heavy with unspoken words.
Hearing the footsteps, Rossweise turned and saw them.
"Noah..."
"Mom, you're here too..." Noah murmured, her voice still thick with tears.
Noah walked over and stood beside her mother's chair. Rossweise immediately noticed the puffiness around her daughter's eyes and the tracks of dried tears on her cheeks.
Being perceptive, she didn't ask any probing questions. Instead, she simply opened her arms and pulled Noah into her lap, holding her close.
Taking out a soft, linen handkerchief, she began to gently wipe the remaining moisture from Noah's eyes.
"Teacher Mevis submitted her formal resignation yesterday evening," Principal Olette said with a weary sigh, breaking the silence.
"Actually," the principal continued, steepling her fingers, "at the very start of this semester, a few months ago, she told me in confidence that she planned to resign soon, but insisted she would complete her most important collaborative projects and external evaluations first.
"She also specifically asked me not to tell Noah about her decision until after she was gone."
So her resignation had been planned for months... Leon realized it likely wasn't a direct reaction to their discovery of the diary. This was a premeditated departure.
"Did Mevis give any explanation for why she was resigning?" Leon asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Principal Olette shook her head, her expression one of genuine regret.
"She didn't give any specific reason. No family emergency, no new position. I suspected it might be related to personal matters, perhaps connected to the history you—"
She stopped mid-sentence, catching the subtle, almost imperceptible looks exchanged between Leon and Rossweise.
Leon, who was standing by the door, gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes darting meaningfully toward Noah, who was now nestled safely in her mother's arms.
Understanding his intent immediately, the principal smoothly changed tack.
"Mevis was an outstanding and remarkably low-key teacher during her time at the academy. We'll miss her dedication." She turned her attention fully to Noah, her tone softening. "Noah, I'm truly sorry for keeping this from you, but it was at Mevis's specific request. I hope you and the Silver Dragon family can understand our position.
"We'll arrange for another highly qualified teacher to take over her classes soon."
"Thank you for your understanding, Principal," Rossweise said as she stood, shifting Noah's weight in her arms.
With Noah hiding her face in her mother's shoulder, Rossweise discreetly scooped up the ancient diary from the corner of the principal's desk and pocketed it.
"Let's not trouble you any further. We'll take our leave now."
"Of course. I'll have someone escort you out," the principal offered, standing as well.
Leon opened the door, and Rossweise carried Noah out into the hallway first.
He followed closely behind, but just as he stepped over the threshold, a harried-looking teacher brushed past him, holding a formal document.
"Principal, here's that urgent withdrawal application for a student in the young dragon division. It needs your review and signature."
"Alright, bring it here," Principal Olette's voice faded as the door began to close.
Leon barely spared the teacher or the document a glance, his focus entirely on his wife and daughter ahead, his mind already racing ahead to the new mysteries and the ominous final words of a ghostly teacher: I will wait for you in the true future.