The training hall doors closed behind us with a heavy thud that echoed down the corridor. The midday sun was high, streaming through the tall windows and painting the stone floor in bright, golden stripes. The air outside felt lighter—less thick with mana and sweat—but my body still carried the weight of the morning.
My arms ached with every movement. The scars from the watcher's claws were pink and raised, already fading thanks to Ms. Vaelith's healing, but the memory of the black veins and cold fire lingered under my skin. My mana felt sluggish, colder in places, like frost that hadn't quite thawed. I kept my sleeves down, hiding the bandages. No one needed to see.
Elara walked on my left, steps measured, expression calm but watchful. Lyra on my right, red hair loose, humming something under her breath. They flanked me without making it obvious, but it was there—a quiet, unspoken shield.
We headed toward the cafeteria. My stomach growled—loud enough that Lyra laughed softly.
"See?" she said. "Even your body knows it's lunchtime."
I managed a small smile. "I could eat."
Elara glanced sideways at me. "You need to. The poison may be dormant, but your body's still recovering. Eat properly."
We turned into the main corridor leading to the cafeteria. The hallway was busier now — students streaming in both directions, trays already in hand, voices overlapping in a hundred conversations. Whispers followed us, as always.
"Is that the F-Class kid with the weird hair?"
"With two third-years again?"
"What's his deal?"
I kept my eyes forward. Stay invisible. But with Elara and Lyra beside me, invisibility was impossible.
Lyra bumped my shoulder—light, playful. "Chin up, Eryndor. You survived training. You can survive lunch."
Elara's voice was quieter. "Just eat. Ignore them."
The cafeteria doors were already open, the smell of fresh bread, roasted meat, and sweet pastries hitting us like a wave. The room was packed — long tables filled, lines at the serving counters, nobles near the windows, F-Class at the far end.
We headed for the F-Class line. No hesitation. Heads turned. Whispers followed.
We loaded trays — porridge and bread for me, extra honey cakes for Lyra, herbal tea and grilled fish for Elara. We found a table in the F-Class corner, away from the main crowd but still visible. I sat with my back to the wall. Old habit.
Lyra dropped into the seat across from me, already tearing into a cake. "Eat. Seriously. You look like you're about to pass out."
I picked up the spoon. "I'm trying."
Elara sat beside me—closer than necessary. "You need the energy. Your body's still fighting the poison residue. Eat."
I forced a spoonful down. It tasted better than I expected — warm, filling. My stomach growled again, louder this time.
Lyra laughed. "There he is."
We ate in relative quiet for a few minutes—the normal sounds of the cafeteria washing over us: trays clattering, voices rising and falling, the occasional laugh.
Then two figures approached our table.
Celine de Luthaine and Mira Solvine.
Celine moved with that effortless grace—silver hair catching the light, uniform immaculate, expression calm and composed. Mira walked beside her—smaller, brown hair tied back, eyes bright with curiosity, carrying a tray with a single bowl of soup and a book tucked under her arm.
They stopped at our table.
Celine smiled—soft, genuine. "Eryndor. Elara. Lyra. May we join you?"
Lyra raised an eyebrow, then grinned. "Sure. Pull up a chair."
Elara nodded once. "Of course."
Celine sat gracefully beside Lyra. Mira hesitated a second, then sat next to me—close enough that I could smell the faint lavender from her hair.
Mira looked at me—really looked. "You're Eryndor Vale, right? From roll call. The one with the… unusual orb result."
I nodded. "Yeah. That's me."
She smiled—shy, but warm. "I'm Mira Solvine. Alchemist track. I remember your test. Undefined affinity. That's… rare. And kind of impressive, in a weird way."
I gave a small laugh—awkward. "Impressive isn't the word most people use."
Celine leaned forward slightly. "I've seen your name come up in conversations. People are curious. You've been… noticeable."
Lyra snorted. "That's one way to put it."
Elara's voice was calm. "He's with us now. That's all people need to know."
Mira's eyes flicked between them—surprised, but not hostile. "You two are third-years. And you're… friends with him?"
Lyra grinned. "Something like that."
Celine smiled—soft, knowing. "It's good to see. F-Class kids don't often get allies like you two."
I looked at Mira. "You're F-Class too?"
She nodded. "Scholarship. Commoner. No bloodline. Same as you." She hesitated, then added, "I make potions. Healing salves, mana restoratives. If you ever need anything for those scars…"
I looked down at my arms—sleeves still hiding the bandages. "Thanks. Maybe I will."
Mira smiled—genuine, bright. "Anytime."
Celine watched the exchange—quiet, observant. Then she spoke, voice gentle. "You've been through something recently. I can tell. If you ever need to talk… or just a quiet place to sit… I'm around."
I met her eyes. The heroine. The one who was supposed to save the world. And here she was—offering me kindness.
"Thank you," I said. And I meant it.
We ate in companionable quiet for a while. Mira asked questions about alchemy—safe, normal questions. Celine listened more than she spoke, but her presence was calming. Elara and Lyra kept the conversation light—deflecting anything too personal.
When trays were empty, Mira stood. "I have class soon. But… it was nice meeting you properly, Eryndor. And thank you, Elara, Lyra—for being kind to one of us."
Celine stood as well. "Same. Take care of yourself, Eryndor."
They left together — Mira glancing back once with a small wave.
The table felt quieter without them.
Lyra leaned back. "They're nice. Mira especially. She's smart. Could be useful."
Elara nodded. "Celine is… genuine. Rare for a high noble."
I looked down at my empty bowl. "They didn't treat me like trash."
Lyra smiled. "Because you're not."
Elara stood. "Come on. We also need to go to our respective classes. After that we will meet at my study. We have work to do."
We left the cafeteria together—three people, walking side by side.