Noel tightened the strap on his dinsional pouch, now filled with everything he needed—clothes, essentials, every item he might require. There was nothing left to pack.
’Looks like my vacation’s over,’ he thought, stepping back to glance at the tidy room one last ti. ’Well, it was nice while it lasted. Ti to focus on my favorite quest: "save the world."’
He ran a hand through his hair, lips curling into a faint smirk.
’Act IV... That’s where we are now. I still have no clue what the second major event is supposed to be in this act, but whatever it is... I’ve got a bad feeling about it.’
Just as he was about to open the door, a knock ca. Gareth Wren, the ever-proper dorm supervisor, appeared in the hallway, slightly out of breath.
"Oh, Noel, good thing you haven’t left yet," he said, holding out a sealed envelope. "A letter just arrived for you."
"A letter? For ?"
Gareth nodded. "Yeah. Here, take it. You don’t have much ti—Class S is heading to the port shortly."
"Right... see you when we get back, Gareth."
"Yes, yes. Hurry along. I finally get a month off while you’re all gone."
Noel took the letter, eyeing the seal on the back. The insignia of House Thorne was pressed into the wax.
’That’s never a good sign.’
He walked toward the exit of the building, the pouch fastened to his left hip. Outside, the morning light was crisp and cool. He broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet inside.
It was from his father.
Noel,
Once you complete your first sester, you are to return ho to take part in this year’s Hunt Festival.
Do not forget.
That was it.
Not even a Take care.
Noel folded the letter with an emotionless expression.
’Straight to the point, as always. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more. That house was never big on feelings anyway.’
He slipped the note into his coat and stepped outside. The others were already gathering.
Outside the Class S dormitory, nearly all forty students were gathered in the courtyard. Luggage had been packed, dinsional pouches secured, and the crisp morning air buzzed with anticipation. Two dozen enchanted carriages waited nearby, sleek and reinforced with subtle runes, each designed to carry two passengers comfortably.
Daemar stood at the front, arms behind his back, his silver hair catching the light.
"Alright," he called, his voice cutting cleanly through the murmurs, "you’ll be riding in pairs. Pick your partner and get into a carriage. We leave for the port imdiately."
That was all he needed to say.
Instantly, groups began to form. Laughter, nudges, and subtle glances filled the space. Among the shifting crowd, three particular girls—Elyra, Elena, and Charlotte—were in the middle of a light but rapidly escalating argunt.
"I’m sitting with him," said Charlotte with a smile that looked far too innocent.
"You had your chance yesterday," Elena countered, folding her arms.
Elyra raised an eyebrow. "Technically, I’m still owed a favor."
They all turned at once—to Noel.
He froze.
The three girls looked at him expectantly.
"...So," Charlotte tilted her head, "who would you rather ride with?"
Noel stared, ntally screaming. His eyes flicked between the three—one bold and teasing, one calm and cold, one unreadable and intense.
’Why does it always co down to this...?’
Before he could say a word, an arm hooked around his shoulder and pulled him backward.
"Yikes, you looked like you were in trouble," Roberto grinned, steering him toward one of the unclaid carriages.
"Thanks..." Noel muttered. "I seriously couldn’t choose."
"You know, part of regrets saving you. Maybe I should’ve let you deal with the fallout."
"Sorry for... rubbing it in," Noel smirked.
As they climbed in, the rest of the pairs quickly ford. Clara naturally joined Marcus, the newly established couple. Laziel took a spot with Garron.
anwhile, Elyra ended up with Elena—both carrying a quiet dignity that masked the earlier squabble. Charlotte, now without her preferred pick, sat beside Selene.
The contrast couldn’t have been more obvious.
Charlotte chatted animatedly from the mont she sat down. Selene didn’t say a word, her expression as frosty as always.
From his carriage, Noel glanced back at them.
’Good luck, Selene. I’ll pray for you.’
The journey was quick. The carriages moved smoothly across the cobbled roads, enchanted wheels absorbing every bump. After just a few hours, the students of Class S reached the closest port to the academy.
As the carriages pulled into the wide plaza, the students leaned forward, eyes scanning the docks. The vessel that awaited them wasn’t grand or decorative like the Estermont family’s private skyships—it was built for efficiency. Its hull was reinforced with polished blacksteel, its sails enchanted for long-distance travel, and its design clearly prioritized function over luxury.
Still, there was sothing impressive about it.
Daemar stepped down from the first carriage, adjusting his long coat before turning to face the students.
"Line up. You’ll board one by one as I call your nas."
He pulled out a clipboard and began reading aloud.
"Ervan.
Lyra De Quintell.
Elena Von Lestaria
Juno Von Hargrave.
Myra Von Feldren.
Tavion.
Elyra von Estermont."
Heads turned as Elyra stepped forward without hesitation, climbing the ramp onto the ship.
"Noel Thorne."
Noel adjusted his pouch and followed suit, walking up the ramp with calm, steady steps.
"Clara de Nivaria.
Marcus.
Laziel Varn.
Charlotte.
Selene von Iskandar.
Garron Bale.
Roberto."
Each na was followed by the shuffle of boots on wood, the murmur of voices, and the rustle of wind against the sails.
Soon, all students were aboard.
Daemar glanced at Rauk, who gave a silent nod from the shadows.
The last ropes were unhooked, and the ramp drew back with a tallic groan.
The ship began to drift away from the dock, sails catching the wind as enchantnts kicked in with a low hum.
The hum of magic deepened as the ship gained speed, gliding smoothly over the water. Wind whipped through the sails, and the coastline of Valon slowly began to shrink behind them. Students leaned against the railing, chatting or simply taking in the view, the excitent of the journey ahead mixing with quiet tension.
Noel stood near the bow, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the horizon.
’Ten days on this ship,’ he thought. ’Ten days before we arrive at the dwarven kingdom. New land. New people. And possibly... new enemies.’
Behind him, he could hear Charlotte laughing loudly—probably teasing Selene again. He didn’t turn to look, but he could already imagine Selene’s stone-faced expression.
Act IV had officially begun.
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