The courtyard fell silent—too silent.
Moonlight spilled across the stone tiles in fragmented reflections, catching faint glints along the edges of the Academy walls. Somewhere in the far distance, a bell tolled once—low, slow, a reminder of time continuing on even when it shouldn't.
Lucavion didn't move.
Didn't need to.
The night stretched around him like an old cloak, familiar and weighted.
But he wasn't cold.
Not in the way others might be.
He exhaled once, slow and silent. It wasn't fatigue that gripped him—not yet. It was something older. Something... unresolved.
'So even now… they don't leave.'
The memories.
He'd buried them well—stacked years on top like bricks, like mortar, like armor. He'd trained until his muscles forgot what rest was. He'd studied until his mind no longer wandered. He'd rewritten his name, his posture, his voice—every aspect of himself forged into something new.
Something controlled.
And yet—
Those eyes.
Adrian's eyes.
They hadn't changed.
