***
The sun hung low over the city, casting soft warmth over the outskirts. Kael sat beneath a lone tree, its shadow stretching over him in quiet comfort. Beside him, the stone path curved down toward a bustling plaza, the sound of footsteps and chatter barely reaching their secluded spot.
Veila sat cross-legged nearby, pulling strands of grass between her fingers. The breeze tugged at her sleeves as she glanced at him.
"So," she said casually, "how do you feel about the trials?"
Kael didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on a distant rooftop. After a few heartbeats, he answered without looking at her.
"Doesn't matter how I feel. It's happening either way."
Veila gave a half-smile. Not much, but something. She leaned back on her hands and let the silence settle between them.
Then, a sudden crack of energy echoed from the plaza below.
Both turned slightly.
Down in the open square, a crowd had formed. At the center stood a teenage boy, his coat swinging as he flared his hands dramatically. Sparks of orange magic danced in the air around him — fire, uncontrolled and aggressive. He flexed his fingers, and a ring of flame burst up in a show of force.
"I'm telling you, there's no way I don't make it into the Attack Division," he shouted, grinning like he already wore the uniform. "This kind of power speaks for itself!"
Some in the crowd clapped. Others laughed, encouraging him. A few mimicked the movement of his spell.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
'Always the loudest ones. Flash before substance. Does strength really need to be that loud?'
He watched the boy pose again, feeding on the cheers, as if already crowned in victory.
'Come to think of it, Mira did say the Attack Division basks in glory. Is this the type they draw? Big mouths with enough fire to keep people looking?'
The display burned into Kael's mind, not because it impressed him — but because of how easily others were impressed.
The crowd kept cheering.
"That's right! Attack Division's for the strong!"
'Or at least, for those who can fake it long enough, Kael thought grimly.'
Just then, Veila reappeared. She returned from a short errand, a paper bag in her hands, but paused when she noticed Kael's fixed stare.
She followed his eyes to the center of the plaza.
"You don't like him, huh?" she said softly.
Kael didn't answer right away.
"He's already decided where he wants to be," he murmured. "And he's loud enough to make others believe it."
Veila let that sit for a moment, then gave a thoughtful hum. "Maybe that's the only way some people feel seen."
Kael didn't reply.
The fire mage shouted again, spinning into another fiery flourish.
But Kael had already turned his gaze away.
-------
The sky had begun to fade into its softer shades — pale blues melting into warm oranges. Kael and Veila walked side by side along the cobbled path back toward the residential quarter.
The faint hum of magic lanterns warming up filled the quiet between them.
Veila kicked at a loose stone with her boot, then glanced at him with a sly grin.
"You still remember how you couldn't climb the back fence when we were kids?"
Kael didn't look at her. "That was one time."
Veila snorted. "One time? Kael, you got stuck upside down with your coat hooked for half an hour. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe."
"I don't remember it like that," he said, but there was no edge in his tone — just the faintest pull at the corner of his mouth.
She chuckled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "Then there was the 'sneaking out at night' disaster. You tripped on the lantern stand, knocked it over, and nearly set the pantry on fire."
"I was trying to reach the bread," Kael muttered.
Veila laughed harder, her steps light now, carefree in a way that hadn't shown itself in a long while. "Mom was chasing you around with a broom, and you hid in the laundry basket. You didn't even fit!"
Kael exhaled — it was almost a laugh, but not quite. He wanted to smile. A part of him almost did. But instead, his voice softened.
"You really remember all that?"
"I remember everything that made me laugh," she replied.
And then… she stopped walking.
It was brief. Barely a hesitation. But her hand clenched slightly, and her smile faltered like a candle flickering in wind. A shadow crossed Veila's face. The laughter paused. Her eyes, once full of light, dimmed — fixed on something distant, unspoken.
Kael slowed beside her.
Her voice came quieter this time. "And… some things I didn't want to remember."
A memory had slipped past her defenses. The same one Kael always carried in silence.
Kael noticed the shift in her instantly. His steps slowed, matching her silence.
He didn't press. Instead, after a second, he said in a low voice:
"…You've held that in for a long time," he said quietly, not looking at her. "You've always shouldered more than you had to."
He paused, then added—his voice low, but firm.
"But you don't have to do that anymore. You've found someone who'll carry it with you now… a good friend. So let her."
Veila didn't reply. Not with words.
Instead, she stepped forward — and without warning, wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her face pressed gently into his back, the fabric of his coat crinkling under her cheek.
Kael froze for a moment.
Then slowly, his thoughts stirred.
'When was the last time she hugged me like this…?'
He couldn't remember.
And that unfamiliar warmth — that closeness — it made something crack open quietly inside him.
A smile, real this time, touched his lips.
"You know…" Veila said into his back, "I never thought my brother would be the one saying something encouraging."
Kael gave a small huff. "Don't get used to it."
She pulled away, skipping a few steps ahead to walk backward in front of him. The mischief was back in her eyes.
"Too late. It's going on the list — right after 'Kael gets stuck on a fence' and 'Kael cries over burnt bread.'"
"I didn't cry," he replied flatly.
"You wailed," she teased, laughing.
Kael shook his head. "Lies."
And behind him, Veila laughed—really laughed, the sound echoing off the quiet houses. That same laugh from years ago. Loud, carefree.
Kael glanced at her over his shoulder, and quietly, deep inside, made a promise to himself:
'No matter what happens… I'll protect that smile.'
'Even if it means standing against the world… even if I have to become something I never wanted to be.'
A breeze stirred, catching the edges of Veila's coat as she walked beside him — unaware of the vow that had just been made.
As the last rays of sunlight brushed the rooftops, they kept walking — the past behind them, its echoes still walking beside.