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The cool morning wind rushed past them, brushing through the trees and carrying the soft scent of dew-soaked grass.

The sun had just begun to climb over the academy walls, painting the horizon with hues of pale gold and silver.

Azhriel and Elizabeth moved in quiet steps toward a bench nestled under a large shade tree, the leaves rustling gently above them.

Sydelle had already left, her sharp footsteps fading into the distance. She was called away by Arianne apparently, for a light sparring session.

Those two had beco quite good friends lately, often training together early in the mornings.

It was good thing, if Azhriel had to stop her descent, then having friends to help was crucial.

Now, the training field was mostly empty, leaving just Azhriel and Elizabeth in a quiet, peaceful corner of the academy.

Elizabeth sat down carefully, smoothing out the back of her coat. Her azure hair shimred faintly under the light, loose strands catching the breeze.

Azhriel moved behind her, a small wooden hairbrush in hand. He gently ran his fingers through her hair once before starting, brushing from the top down with steady, smooth strokes.

The brush glided through her silky hair like feather.

"So," he asked softly, his voice calm as the morning air. "Is there sothing special today? Or you just felt like it?"

Elizabeth was quiet for a mont.

Then she asked, her tone quiet and sharp, but carrying sothing behind it—an uncertainty, maybe even doubt unlike her usual cold behaviour,

"You… don't mind doing this right?"

It was slight doubt in Elizabeth's heart, many things had changed about him. Be it his hair, eyes behaviour.

What if he thought this was annoying?

Azhriel blinked once, then gave a light chuckle.

"No, it is to my utmost pleasure to style the hair of Lady Elizabeth," he said with a teasing little tilt to his voice.

The playful words washed away her doubts completely.

She didn't respond right away, but Azhriel noticed her shoulders relaxed slightly. Her fingers, which had been clutching the edge of her coat, eased.

He wasn't lying.

Brushing her hair was sothing like a special ritual between them, though it was hindered by him going away for six months, but now it was fine.

It was like sothing normal, in the middle of everything abnormal around him. He never said it out loud, but it grounded him in a strange way.

He didn't mind doing it even more when it was for sothing important.

And today… it seed like it was one of those days.

"Mother and Father," Elizabeth said softly, a smile touching her lips, "they're coming back from their mission today. "

Azhriel's hands paused for just a mont, then with gave a small thought, his hands gently continued brushing through her hair.

"Oh, that's a good news. You must be happy. " Azhriel said smiling, he also hadn't t them in a while.

"I am." Her voice was light, but carried the warmth of real joy. "It's been months. I wasn't sure that they'd make it back this soon, but they sent a ssage just last night."

Azhriel quietly picked up a thin silver pin and a nofrom the pouch beside him and began tying her hair into a loose braid, folding it neatly in layers.

"They're strong, you know" he said after a mont. "I doubt anything could've kept them away from you for so long."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, and the sound was soft like a wind chi. If any was their classmate watched that they would slap themselves to wake up from the dream.

"They are. But the missions they get also aren't exactly easy. Dad said they were dealing with sothing near the southern borders."

Azhriel didn't comnt. He knew better than most what "worse" could an in this world.

Still, he continued to braid her hair carefully, placing a few thin tallic threads through it—sothing she liked whenever she was dressing a little more formally.

"That made sense, why are you dressed like this."

Azhriel said.

"I wanted to look presentable when I et them," she said after a pause. "Not just in uniform. Not with my hair all wild like after training."

"You always look presentable," Azhriel replied, deadpan.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes playfully, even though he couldn't see her expression. "Flatterer."

"I'm being serious."

She smiled again.

They fell into silence for a while, the only sound being the wind through the trees and the quiet rustling of the leaves.

Azhriel moved with precision and care, looping the final strand through a silver ring-shaped clasp.

"There. Done," he said softly, stepping back just a little.

Elizabeth gently ran her fingers through the styled thin braids, feeling the structure of them, the way they with her hair fell perfectly across her shoulder.

"You really are too good at this," she murmured.

"Yeah, anyone would be if they have a friend, who even after having tens of maids still wants them to tie their hair." Azhriel said.

She laughed again. "Still, thank you."

Azhriel simply nodded. He picked up the brush, placing it back into the pouch as he turned his eyes toward the distant academy buildings.

The sky was brighter now. The sun beginning to light the tower tops in warm light.

"Do you want to co with you?" he asked, after a mont.

Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the offer.

"To et them?" She asked.

"If you want," he added.

She looked down at her lap for a mont, then smiled and nodded slowly. "Yeah… I'd like that."

"Alright," Azhriel said, rising to his feet. "Call , when they are at the Academy. Though until then, I am gonna sleep."

"You're really that tired?"

"Beyond tired," he muttered, stretching his arms above his head.

Elizabeth stood up beside him, and for a mont, just stood there—next to him, close but not too close.

"Ok, i will tell you then." she said, voice quiet.

Azhriel looked at her, then turned toward the dorms.

"See you later, Eli."

"See you, Azh."

And with that, they went their separate ways, the morning breeze still carrying the scent of dew and quiet hope.

Azhriel reached the dorm quickly, it didn't even took a mont for him to throw himself off to the bed, as he fell asleep.

*******

anwhile, far in the southern frontiers of the continent…

A brutal battle was unfolding.

The sky had darkened, not from clouds, but from thick smoke rising from burnt soil and blood-drenched land.

The air slled of tal, rot, and scorched flesh.

All around, cries of pain and roars of fury echoed like waves crashing over each other—endless, relentless.

The earth was dyed in a grotesque mix of black and deep red, soaking into every crack and stone.

"Don't falter—attack!"

A voice thundered through the chaos.

It ca from a man standing tall amid the ruin—black hair swept back, eyes like cold blue fire. He wore a dark grey battle cloak, torn at the hem and stained with blood, though none of it was his.

He raised his right hand, and in a flash of concentrated mana, blasted the head clean off a beast that had just devoured a Transcendent-ranked soldier.

The force of the blast cracked the nearby stone, and the monster's body dropped with a lifeless thud.

But there was no ti to rest.

Another creature lunged from the left—twisted, unnatural.

Once a beast, but now sothing else entirely. Its form was unstable, as if reality itself rejected what it had beco.

Thick black veins pulsed beneath its mangled flesh, its limbs elongated and sharp like spears, moving far too fast for its size.

Behind the man, another monster crept through the burning mist—a wolf, larger than a carriage, its body wrapped in gnarled muscle and deformity.

Its eyes were pitch black, completely devoid of iris or light.A black smoke leaked from between its fangs, hissing with corrosive hunger.

Its claws glead like obsidian, slicing through the air as it leapt.

But the man didn't flinch.

He didn't even glance back, as he killed the beast on his left.

Fshhk.

A streak of silver light flashed through the air—sharp, swift, beautiful.

The next mont, the wolf's head split cleanly in two, the rest of its body crashing into the dirt with a heavy, wet thud.

A slender figure landed beside the man, her movents graceful even in the chaos. She flicked the blood off her sword in one smooth motion.

"It's so chaotic," the woman said calmly, her voice soft yet steady, "even when it's not confird if 'it' will appear."

She had long light azure hair tied in a high braid, a sharp contrast to her dark armor, which shimred faintly with silver runes.

Her violet eyes were calm, focused, though deep inside them hid a storm.

The man exhaled through his nose. "That's what worries ."

Turn

He finally turned, his gaze eting his wife's.

They were Lord and Lady Alden.

Elizabeth's parents.

Veresia and Kayden.

Just then, in both's earpiece a hurried and trembling voice rang.

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