When Elion opened the door, he was met with a strange sight. Annabelle leaned against the wall with a relaxed pose, a cheerful squint, and a sweet smile. She watched him step out of his comfort zone. Her soft, wheat-colored hair, which he loved wrapping himself in, flowed smoothly over her shoulders.
She wore her favorite white dress that flowed into blue at the bottom. If you looked closely, though, you could see strange patterns, as if they were traces of paint from children's hands.
Glancing at her quickly, Elion recognized the dress and lowered his head. He headed down the hallway to the entrance hall without saying a word.
His sister, watching this, couldn't help but smile as she followed him.
Feeling her follow close behind, Elion muttered quietly,
"Did you have to wear that one?"
Annabelle, who hadn't stopped smiling since he appeared, replied softly,
"Of course. It's my favorite..."
Realizing that further conversation would lead nowhere and only embarrass him more, Elion wisely decided to remain silent.
Finally entering the spacious yet not overly large hall, Elion regained his composure slightly. Exhaling quietly, he approached the large mirror by the door to assess his outfit.
He grabbed his short, dark gray coat, threw it on without bothering to button it, and looked closely at his reflection.
The dark gray coat and vest, both of the same shade, created a refined impression, with a dull white shirt peeking out.
Satisfied, he put on his rather ordinary dark boots and looked at his sister with a smirk.
"And the final touch..."
Without taking his eyes off Anabel, he reached behind his back. He grabbed something and proudly raised his head, putting a gray hat with a visor on. Then he said to his sister with a cheerful smile,
"Now it's perfect."
Without checking how the hat looked on him in the mirror, he walked confidently to the door and opened it.
"Well, hold on, the world, here I come!" The boy exclaimed, throwing his arms up dramatically as he stood there dressed as a stylish detective.
His sister had put on her peach-colored shoes and watched him with a quiet laugh.
He stepped out into the small green courtyard attached to their house and waited for her to catch up. Glancing at her, Elion asked,
"By the way, won't you be cold in just a dress? It's gotten colder lately."
"Not at all... You know I'm a very warm girl." Annabelle said with a sweet smile.
Already accustomed to such conversations, Elion just sighed calmly and smiled at his sister.
"Don't even try. Right now, not even the gods can shake my confidence. Today, the king of the Weimar School will defend his domain for the last time. The goddess is my witness, I won't lose!"
Weimar, also known as the town of scientists, was a specialized center for the study and investigation of "Mysteries" as well as the creation of developments based on mystical artifacts. The city was full of universities, laboratories, and similar institutions. Scientists and researchers flocked here to conduct experiments and analyses under optimal conditions. Scientists were proud people who were mostly devoted to their work and in no hurry to start families. Consequently, there were relatively few children in the city compared to the population.
There was only one school in Weimar, and judging by Elion's popularity there, he could rival the king. However, this popularity was not at all like the king's; rather, it resembled the notoriety of an enemy of the kingdom. The boy, however, did not care much about this and remained cheerful.
As Elion walked through his neighborhood, he couldn't help but notice the houses around him. Almost all of them were one-story buildings designed in a minimalist, modern style and made of soft, beige stone. As he looked at the houses surrounded by green terraces, all identical in their beige color, he shifted his gaze to his own house and took a closer look.
His house was similar to the others, of course, but one fundamental difference set it apart.
Its color was a pleasant shade of peach. A sign with the number 37 on it stood out, so Elion wondered if the number was cursed.
Unable to find the answer, he asked his sister,
"Belle, why is our house so different from the others?"
Anabel looked at their home and replied,
"If you're talking about the swing in the yard, I asked Dad to build it for you."
"No, not at all. I was asking about the color of the house."
"If you mean the color... I asked Dad to do that for myself." She said, smiling cheerfully.
"You asked Dad to repaint the whole house?" He said in bewilderment.
"Well, yes. Something wrong with that?" His sister said, not understanding.
"No, nothing. Really, nothing..." Elion muttered quietly.
He stood at the end of the street, a short distance away from the others, so he probably looked even more ridiculous to them. But Anabel didn't seem to care, which wasn't surprising.
After sorting out all the pressing issues, they finally set off for school, walking very close to each other.
They argued with his sister about their close contact and had fun talking as they walked from one end of their neighborhood to the other. All of the buildings were designed in the same style. They came to a large, circular square. Several dozen different universities and research centers of various fields were located around it in various places.
Carriages drawn by one or two horses scurried back and forth across the center of the square. Despite the city's relatively small size, people here seemed to consider walking beneath their dignity and exploited poor animals unnecessarily. They often neglected cheaper forms of transportation, choosing the most comfortable carriages instead.
Secretly pitying the animals and admiring the extravagant buildings, Elion strolled peacefully with his sister around the edge of the square because their school was located some distance away at the other end.
Looking at his sister, who was dressed lightly for the no longer warm weather, Elion was surprised, to say the least, by her refined figure and her considerable physical superiority over many men.
His curiosity piqued, he asked what interested him.