"Well, since we're already here, let's talk about the history of this domain," the instructor droned, pacing the front of the lecture hall. "If you didn't already know, we are currently in Varethal, the civilian capital city of the Viera Kingdom's only Archduchy. I say that this is the civilian capital of their domain because their real seat lies in Frostgate, the fortress city furthest north. But regular people aren't allowed there. The Iskandars are the Lords of the Frostlands, protecting every other human nation from the Northern Barbarians with their family's powerful Sword Style, possessing one of the most destructive techniques to ever exist. Their history is rich, and they were originally part of the Viera empire before its division, and afterwards, the Viera kingdom, before the Civil War that resulted in them partially seceding from the Viera Kingdom and forming their own Independent state."
The instructor paused, shuffling papers. "Now, you will all be given some text you must analyze about the Civil War I just mentioned. Please answer the questions attached, and turn in the assignment at the end of class."
Arthur's cheek pressed against the cool desk. He sat like that for a long time, listening to the scratches of quills, until he felt the vibrations from incoming footsteps. A voice followed when the footsteps ended.
"Have you completed the assignment?"
"Yeah," Arthur weakly replied, lifting up his hand from underneath and sliding the paper up the desk for the instructor to collect.
"Thank you," the instructor said before continuing his rounds.
It was an interesting topic, I suppose.
"See you tomorrow," Derrick said as the bell rang.
"Yeah."
Arthur looked up at the dark sky once more after entering the First Year sector again. It was the routine he did every night after finishing his favorite class to calm himself. It was at this time that he would release all his joy, excitement, and anger so he could maintain his stoic demeanor during the day.
For the last few weeks, however, it wasn't the same. There was no joy to hide anymore. He was empty. And tonight especially, with the clouds rolling heavy above him, he felt small. But he refused to admit it.
As he walked through the halls, there was no sound, not even a change in light. Everything was still. Entering his room, the stillness continued. Cedric was in bed, his blanket pulled up to his mouth. His eyes were gently closed, peacefully at rest, yet perpetually emanating radiance.
He possessed the beauty of an angel; anyone could see it. There was truly no one in the academy who questioned his reputation.
Arthur felt the same way now as he did looking upon the pendant his mother gave him, and the sword his father gave him—a standard but sturdy longsword made of fine steel, leaning against the wall next to the far side of his bed—and a gemstone tied to a string that they had made together.
He felt loneliness, emptiness, fear.
He thought back to his mother's words.
"When it comes time for you to leave home, make sure you stay together. You are a team—help each other when the world feels too heavy, and lift one another when one stumbles. No matter where life takes you, remember that you share the same roots, the same love that raised you. Stand by each other, protect one another, and never forget that family is your first home, no matter how far you roam."
Why was he only recalling it now, after all this time?
He thought some more, and realized it was not the content of her words that he cared for; there were few lessons he actually remembered. But her voice, and her love, her kindness. How gentle she was when patting his wounds that day—she made all the pain go away.
At that moment, he began to finally think.
How pathetic. How pathetic I was for acting like that. How pathetic I am for thinking like this.
"I swear I'll fix all this tomorrow," he whispered to the dark room.
The clock read 24:59 when he closed his eyes. But the hands of the clock would never turn again after 01:00.
BOOM!
A massive concussion of sound shattered the silence. Another closer, but less deafening explosion immediately followed, rocking the floorboards beneath the bed.
Arthur immediately shot up, his heart hammering against his ribs. His eyes darted toward where the explosion originated, but the ringing in his ears impaired him.
Fire… smoke… are those… people?
By the time his supposition was confirmed, he was already looking at something else smoking.
Cedric!