Evan occupied the last bench, pressed against the tall window that allowed a dusty, golden light to filter through. The sky had cleared. The day's final class was dying in the professor's monotonous murmur. On his notebook, far from the notes on cosmic philosophy, Evan's pencil carefully traced the figure of a gladiator: slender, in minimal armor with generous proportions, her hair flowing in an imaginary wind and a sword in hand.
"—Therefore, the Kosmos utilizes the cracks in…" the professor's voice caught his attention for an instant, just long enough to register a few stray words before he returned to his drawing, now dedicating himself to shading the neckline and curve of the thighs with concentrated devotion.
He raised his gaze to the window, past the stony ground bordering the building, to the high stone wall surrounding the academy. There, walking with feline balance along the narrow ledge, was Michu. Was it really her? The cat seemed to recognize him and, with a graceful and precise leap, disappeared over the other side of the wall.
"—…thus altering reality itself and the laws governing the existence we know," concluded the professor, closing his heavy book with a dry sound that echoed in the silent classroom.
Emerging from his thoughts about the mysterious Michu, Evan inevitably heard the final words:
"Given that tonight is a Moonless Night, class is hereby concluded. It is preferable for everyone, especially those who reside far away, to begin their return in good time." The professor let his gaze, laden with practical significance, fall on Evan for a brief moment. Evan, who had just slid his sketchbook under the seat, held his breath. "Nevertheless, some professors will remain for an additional hour for consultations. The workshops and clubs will also remain accessible during that period."
Evan observed his professor—a man with a tired face and a faded vest—for another moment as he gathered his belongings. As soon as his classmates began putting away books and pens, he took his notebook, placed it in his canvas satchel, and left the classroom, the first one out.
He entered the high, cold hallways where the echo of his steps on the stone floor mixed with the faint smell of beeswax and dust. The deep, monotonous toll of the academy clock resonated in the corridors with a rhythmic and somber dong… dong… He advanced with a determined step but with his gaze darting about, wary of possible bullies.
He went up to the second floor via the wide, gleaming ceramic stairs that branched in an elegant curve, their black iron railings tracing dark scrolls against the pale stone.
From the window, Evan watched as the academy's great iron gates disgorged a river of students: a sea of blonde, red, and brown heads, their black uniforms contrasting against the uniform paleness of their faces. They looked like a flock of lambs dyed in autumn colors, scattering before the imminent night.
He knocked on the heavy oak door of the office.
"Come in."
Julius was behind a monumental desk carved from dark wood. The twilight light, filtered through heavy velvet curtains, illuminated only the pile of papers he was signing with quick strokes. He wore the professorial variant of the uniform: an iron-gray frock coat, impeccable and severe, buttoned to the neck, with a single silver clasp—an anvil over a book—that gleamed faintly over his heart.
"Ah, Evan. Take a seat," he said without looking up, finishing a signature with a final flourish. Finally, he raised his eyes and adjusted his crystal monocle.
"Good afternoon, Professor," said Evan with confidence, taking a seat meticulously.
"About the phrase the moon gave me last night…" Evan said uncertainly.
Julius nodded. "Yes, what did the moon convey to you this time?" he asked curiously.
Then Evan told him about the phrase and how he used it during the assault, the phrase shouted like an incantation, the red-haired woman on the rooftop, and the arrows that whistled to save his life. Also about the owl, though that detail didn't seem important.
Julius reclined in his tall, cushioned chair, bringing his index finger and thumb to his chin, a gesture of study that made Evan seem like a curious specimen under his lens.
"Interesting," he murmured after a deliberate pause. "I doubt it was an incantation; those only exist in legends. But the coincidence is significant. That woman might be linked to the name you invoked. A sectarian, perhaps. An enforcer for some forgotten faith."
He let the idea hang in the dust- and ink-laden air of the room.
"You did well to tell me. Leave it to me to look into this matter. If I discover anything, I will tell you."
After another silence, Julius clasped his hands on the desk, intertwining his fingers. His voice adopted a different tone, more intimate and yet more transactional.
"I have good news."
"I have managed to get your scholarship increased. Thirty clavos per month, starting this month."
Evan felt the air leave his lungs. Thirty clavos. It was a fortune for him. It was breathing without drowning.
"The condition," continued Julius, observing every inch of his reaction, "is that you help me with certain... matters. In particular, those related to your lunar prophecies."
"I assume this talent of yours remains a secret between us."
"Yes," Evan managed to say, sitting up straighter. "I'll help you with anything, Professor. Anything."
"Excellent. Tomorrow, then. We will meet at the academy entrance at dusk. We will go to explore the ruins of the Intis Temple, outside the city. And tonight, when you consult the moon, ask it specifically about secret entrances in that place."
"Okay, Professor, but... the moon only tells me what it wants, no matter what I ask..."
"I suspect it will want to tell us this time," Julius interrupted with glacial softness. "Because what I seek there is a crack to the secret divinity." Julius finished the sentence with a conspiratorial smile.
The words resonated in the silence of the office. Evan let them settle, finally understanding the magnitude of what was being offered to him.
"So... Professor Julius, does that mean... you will help me take the leap? To the First Step?" he asked, still incredulous.
Julius nodded with a calm that contrasted with his student's internal trembling.
"As a friend of the moon and as a young man in danger living in the suburbs, I believe your potential must be increased as quickly as possible."
"Stop by the library. A student is waiting for you; I've already spoken with her. She will clarify what you need to know about the First Step." He paused, and an almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips. "Befriend her, if you can."
Evan's heart beat with a new force. As a boy from the suburbs, he had never imagined receiving the attention of a god, much less from the moon, a goddess who disappeared centuries ago. Now, his professor was offering him the opportunity to completely change his life, to perhaps restore the simple joy of being alive.
"That's all for today," said Julius, already turning his gaze back to the papers on his desk. "We'll see each other tomorrow. Take care and go home soon."
"Thank you very much, Professor! I will do my best!" Evan rose from his seat, bowed more deeply than usual, and left the office with a newly lit spark in his chest.
When the door closed behind Evan, Julius slumped back against his chair. A dull throb, like a distant drum, began to pulse in his temples. He had forced the deduction, connected the dots between Evan's phrase, the old myths, and the dusty maps, and the price always came. A thick, warm drop welled from his nostril, traced a quick path over his lip, and fell with a barely audible tap onto the parchment he had been signing. The crimson stain spread over his own name.
"Really?" he whispered to himself in a hoarse voice, wiping it away with the back of his hand. "Just for that?" Julius whispered, incredulous.