Sixteen years ago.
In a quiet, softly lit room, the warm golden glow of a mana lamp washed over pale curtains and polished wooden floors. The scent of healing herbs lingered in the air.
On a large bed in the center of the room, a woman with golden hair and deep sapphire eyes held a newborn close to her chest.
Her face was pale with exhaustion, her body still recovering from the labor—but her expression was full of warmth and peace.
She swayed gently, rocking the small baby wrapped in white cloth. The little one’s hair was a faint whitish-blue, soft and wispy. His tiny fingers curled and uncurled, his face relaxed in deep sleep.
Her na was Cassandra.
And the baby in her arms was Azhriel.
For a while, there was nothing but peace. Just the quiet breaths of mother and child, the slow hum of life starting anew.
Then, suddenly—space rippled at the far end of the room.
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, instantly alert. A soft hum echoed, and a portal blood open like a tear in space, glowing faintly with pink light.
But Cassandra didn’t panic. No ordinary person could break through the protective barriers around her private chamber. She had made sure of that.
She could have closed the portal with a single spell.
But she waited.
A mont later, a woman stepped through.
Her hair flowed like petals—soft pink, shimring in the light. Her eyes were bright pink, tired yet shining with joy. She too cradled a small child, bundled in soft cloth.
Cassandra’s gaze softened as she recognized her.
"Stellia," she said with a smile.
Stellia gave a small sigh and walked over to the bed. "I barely made it. The healer said to rest, but I had to co."
"You just gave birth," Cassandra said gently. "You should be in bed."
"I know," Stellia whispered as she carefully sat beside her. "But I had to see you. I wanted to be here, even just for a little while."
Their hands t briefly, old friendship showing in that small touch. The two had known each other since their days at the academy.
They had trained together, fought together, laughed and cried through the hardest trials of their youth.
Now, they had both beco mothers—just hours apart.
Cassandra looked down at the sleeping bundle in Stellia’s arms. "Is it a girl?"
"Yes," Stellia said softly. "Her na is Caelyn."
"She’s beautiful," Cassandra said, smiling. "She’s going to be a strong one."
They sat in silence for a few seconds, the soft sound of baby breaths the only thing filling the air. But then, as if connected by so unseen thread, both babies stirred.
Azhriel’s tiny hand twitched.
His eyes fluttered open—bright blue, filled with curiosity.
At the sa ti, Caelyn shifted in Stellia’s arms. Her pink lashes lifted, revealing wide, sleepy pink eyes.
They looked at each other.
The mothers froze, watching in stunned silence.
Without a sound, sothing in the air changed. A pulse—gentle, natural, like the rhythm of the earth. From Azhriel’s body, a soft glow erged. Pale whitish-blue mana shimred in the air like morning mist.
At the sa ti, from Caelyn’s small body, another glow answered. A gentle pink hue flowed like a petal caught in the wind.
The two mana streams moved toward each other. Slowly, gently—like they were drawn together. They didn’t clash. They danced.
From the flow of magic, two tiny butterflies began to form—one blue, one pink.
Made purely of mana, they fluttered up into the air, their wings shining. They twirled around each other, floating and spinning like two lost souls reuniting after a long ti.
The room, for a mont, felt like sothing sacred. As if ti had paused just to watch this quiet miracle.
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. "Their mana..."
"It’s resonating, at this level. " Stellia whispered. "That... that doesn’t just happen."
"No, it doesn’t," Cassandra murmured.
The two butterflies danced one more ti, then slowly faded back into particles of light, drifting like snow.
Cassandra looked down at Azhriel, who was now dozing again, his tiny fingers reaching toward where the butterfly had vanished.
"Ah," she whispered with a soft smile. "Destiny really is hard to catch."
Stellia leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "I agree."
In that quiet room, two mothers sat side by side, each holding the life they had brought into the world. And between them, a bond had ford—silent, invisible, yet unshakable.
It was the first ti Azhriel t the girl born for him.
It was the how Azhriel t his Caelyn.
*****
Present Ti...
Azhriel and Caelyn sat in silence atop the great clock tower, the wind gently brushing past them. Below, the academy city sprawled in quiet motion—carriages moved like ants, lights flickered on as dusk neared, and the golden hue of the sun washed over rooftops and distant hills.
It was Azhriel who finally spoke, breaking the silence with a curious tone.
"So... what are you doing up here?"
Caelyn blinked slowly, her soft pink eyes half-lidded, as if she’d just been pulled from a nap.
"The air here is nice," she said in her usual quiet voice. "It’s a good place for sleeping."
Azhriel glanced at her sideways, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Right, sleeping, huh."
He didn’t really understand her, but sohow, that answer felt exactly like sothing she’d say.
"Aren’t you going to tell too?" Caelyn asked, her voice soft as ever, her gaze fixed on the city below.
Azhriel glanced at her and smiled faintly.
"Hm, let’s just say... this place helps feel calm."
"I see." Caelyn nodded slowly, as if that answer was enough.
After that, no more words passed between them. Yet, the silence was not awkward. It was peaceful—like a breeze gently brushing through tree branches.
They just sat there, side by side, watching the world beneath continue in its quiet rhythm. A bird flew past, its wings slicing the air, and far off, the academy bell chid faintly.
Ti drifted by like a slow-moving river.
Eventually, Azhriel stood. He stretched lightly and ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back with a casual motion.
"Well then, let’s return. Wouldn’t want soone waiting for too long."
Caelyn looked up at him, her eyes still half-drowsy, her pink hair catching the wind.
"Okay," she said simply, rising to her feet as well.
And together, they made their way down from the tower.
Just as Caelyn stepped out of the clock tower’s base, a figure in armor stepped forward. She wore the academy guard uniform, though hers was decorated slightly differently, trimd in silver, with a brooch bearing the Lunaris family crest.
The woman bowed respectfully.
"My lady. The carriage is ready."
Azhriel’s gaze shifted to the edge of the road where a luxurious carriage pulled up, its surface polished to shine under the drowning sun.
Gold and silver detailing shimred as the horses ca to a graceful stop. The Lunaris crest was etched into the side—a blooming moon lily wrapped in delicate vines.
"Hmmm, Cynthia," Caelyn murmured softly as she recognized the guard. Without hesitation, she walked towards the carriage.
Cynthia’s eyes briefly flicked to Azhriel. She didn’t say a word, but her gaze was sharp—cautious, asuring, a silent warning for him not to get too close.
’Strong,’ Azhriel thought, his senses picking up on the subtle pulse of mana around her. She wasn’t just a servant or an escort—she was a guardian, likely a highly trained knight from the rchant association’s private forces.
But even under her silent scrutiny, Azhriel remained relaxed.
Caelyn reached the carriage door and turned slightly, her hand resting on the fra.
"Bye, Azhriel. See you next ti," she said, her voice still lazy but sohow sincere.
Azhriel raised his hand in a small wave. "Yeah. See you."
With that, Caelyn stepped inside. The door closed behind her, and the carriage began to roll, the wheels clinking softly against the stone street as it disappeared around the corner, escorted by two mounted guards.
Azhriel let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping a little as he turned his eyes back toward the city. He placed his hands in his coat pockets and began walking again.
Ahead, the city of lights stretched before him—Academy City, layered in rings of power, pride, and politics. Banquets, tests, secrets, bloodlines, and ambitions—this place was filled with it all.
Tonight, the banquet would be held to honor the top cadets.
And while the others would shine in that light—dressed in their best, dancing, boasting, and laughing—Azhriel probably would walk a different path. Not one in front of everyone, but behind the curtains. Quiet. Necessary.
After all, if the main characters of the story were ant to chase glory in the spotlight, defeating villains and overcoming odds, then soone else had to move unseen.
To clean the path before them.
To strike what they couldn’t see.
To handle the sses no one wanted to admit existed.
Azhriel didn’t particularly enjoy the thought. It wasn’t about ambition or justice for him. But if he was going to honor the words his mother left behind... then he needed to play his role—no matter how shadowed it was.
After all, only he knows the future.
As he walked deeper into the streets of Academy City, his expression grew calm.
The lights of the evening began to flicker on one by one.
And in the growing dusk, Azhriel vanished into the crowd.
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