After the figurine war, after the lessons of water, ice, blood, wind…
I began catching myself on one thought more and more often:
I had beco interested in watching him.
Not because of his strength.
Not because of his knowledge.
Not because of a desire to be better.
But because…
there was sothing in him that had never existed in my life:
silence.
The silence of confidence.
The silence of calm.
The silence of soone who walks alone—even when surrounded by a crowd.
And that silence frightened
far more than any loud talent ever could.
Why Is He Always Alone?
I saw how our class grew closer:
the swordsn trained together,
the mages discussed spells,
even Finn finally learned not to snap at everyone,
Lucille began helping Noah,
Astra and Tara found common ground.
But Helvard…
people seed to pass straight through him.
After walks through the city—when everyone talked, laughed, argued—
he returned to the dormitory alone.
Always alone.
Not because he was rejected.
But because he didn’t need others.
And that is the most terrifying thing for soone in my position.
Everyone wants attention.
Everyone needs recognition.
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Everyone desires respect.
Everyone—
except him.
He didn’t crave anything I received automatically.
Title, respect, reverence, admiration—
everything that was normal for
was… emptiness to him.
And I was not used to standing beside soone
who didn’t care about my na.
The Library
I found him there almost by accident—I was curious what soone like him could possibly be doing.
Zen was sitting among tables buried in books, minerals, tal plates, bowls of water, scorched notes.
His face was focused, his hair disheveled, his hand trembling with strain,
and in his eyes—there was that sa living fire I had seen before.
He was…
beautiful in his obsession.
Not because of appearance.
Not because of power.
Beautiful in the way he existed.
Without pretense.
Without posing.
Without the desire to please anyone.
And for the first ti, I saw soone who didn’t rely control an elent,
but studied it as an art.
I stood there and watched,
afraid to disturb his world.
And for the first ti in my life, I felt…
that I wanted to enter that world.
Electricity
It was an elent even masters considered dangerous, chaotic, unstable.
But to Helvard, it was a problem.
An interesting one.
A creative one.
He drew formulas, made notes, built diagrams, conducted experints with ores.
For the first ti in my life, I was seized by a feeling
I had only known before from rlin’s stories:
the thrill of research.
Mistakes.
Experints.
Insights.
Failures.
I was doing sothing myself.
Not by blood.
Not by gift.
Not by expectations.
It was…
astonishing.
And all of it—because of him.
The Book
When he gave
that book…
I didn’t expect it to change .
It wasn’t just a collection of magical techniques.
Every page held sothing more:
structure,
logic,
thought,
curiosity,
a hunger to understand the world.
It demanded mana.
It drained strength.
It tested .
It was not a book for a princess.
It was a book for a mage.
And for the first ti in my life, I read not sothing I was supposed to,
but sothing that truly captivated .
I didn’t sleep at night.
I fainted during lessons.
They treated , scolded , asked—why was I exhausted?
And I only smiled.
Because I wasn’t just copying his thoughts.
I was feeling them.
For the first ti, studying soone else’s work,
I felt myself becoming better.
Not because of a title.
Not because of blood.
But because of inspiration.
Because soone had shown —
that magic could be discovery, not obligation.
And He Was the First
The first person
who did not worship my blood.
The first who didn’t care that I was a princess.
The first who did not admire
automatically.
The first who made
work.
The first who showed
the world differently.
The first who beca interesting to .
Not as a rival.
Not as a subject.
Not as a tool.
But as… a person.
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