The professor's office was empty now.
The heavy oak doors had closed behind Darenn and Irving, leaving only silence in their wake.
Zann stood near the far window, his back against the wall, fists clenched tight at his sides. Leonel sat on the edge of a chair across the room, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor.
Neither spoke.
The words of their mentors still echoed in their minds.
'Nothing good comes from falling in love with your Summoner.'
'Sort out your feelings—or you'll risk not only yourselves, but her.'
Zann exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his messy hair. His chest still felt tight, not from the scolding, but from Aranea's tears. The image of her standing there, voice trembling as she said it hurt to see them fighting… he couldn't shake it.
That look in her eyes… it carved deeper than any wound.
"I'm such an idiot," he muttered under his breath.
Leonel's head lifted slightly. "You think?" His tone was dry, but there was no real bite in it.
