Location: Academy of the Seven Sigils, Dorm Wing A
They wake us at six. Sharp. No excuses.
A bell doesn't ring. A spell doesn't chime.
Instead, the door swings open and David walks in, his voice as calm and sharp as a blade.
> "Ten minutes. Courtyard. Full routine. Or drop a rank."
No one argues. Not even nobles.
That's the kind of presence he has — cold, commanding, but never cruel. His eyes weigh you, judge you, but not unfairly.
He teaches everything. Strategy. Theory. Combat. And maybe… a little about life.
---
The courtyard air was cold.
Mist curled around the marble tiles. The horizon hadn't even begun to warm.
Still, all of us were there.
David led the stretches and stance drills himself.
Perfect posture. Balanced breathing. Nothing flashy. Everything precise.
I followed silently. So did Gideon and Elric.
Leander was grinning through it all like it was a game.
Anna copied him with an extra hop.
Riya muttered under her breath, probably a wind spell to stay warm.
Lily… visibly hated it. So did a few other high-class mages. You could see it on their faces — this wasn't the kind of effort they were used to.
Then she arrived.
Mireille of the Wildroads.
The new instructor for sword and frontline training.
A woman with a one-handed blade strapped to her hip and a jagged scar crossing her left cheek. Her cloak was stained from travel. Her eyes sharp, but not cruel. She looked like someone who'd survived more wars than she'd ever tell.
She didn't speak loudly. Didn't need to.
> "I'll be teaching you how not to die. Preferably with style."
Whispers followed — murmurs of her being a Silver-ranked adventurer from the old kingdom rosters.
Then someone asked, "Why is she here?"
David's response was simple:
> "Because she's stronger than you. And because she's saved my life more than once."
Mireille just rolled her eyes and nudged him in the ribs.
That was when I realized: she wasn't just a teacher.
She was one of David's old party members — back when he wasn't the Sage of the Darkest Moon, but simply a wanderer learning alongside others.
And that meant she was dangerous in the best kind of way.
---
After training, we stumbled into the mess hall.
Leander and Anna were practically vibrating with post-exercise energy.
Gideon sat in stoic silence beside Elric, chewing on roasted barley.
Alice dissected her food like it might explode.
Yukari... still wasn't talking much, but I caught her glancing at Mireille with quiet respect.
And Lily?
Lily was trying to lift a spoon without her arm shaking. I passed her a recovery tonic. She didn't thank me out loud — but the way she looked at me was enough.
---
Afternoons were still free time.
I chose the library again. Ancient strategies. Old field journals. Spellbook dissection. My comfort zone.
Lily joined later. Again.
She didn't ask. Didn't greet me.
She just sat across from me and opened a spellbook on astral thread weaving.
She struggled with one sequence — something about double-glyph activation. I moved beside her. Pointed out the mistake.
> "You need to rotate the second glyph three degrees counterclockwise. Otherwise it'll unravel."
She glanced up.
> "You've studied this?"
> "I read fast."
A pause.
> "...Thanks."
Small moments. But they're starting to connect.
---
Later, while reorganizing scrolls, I took off my jacket.
It's warm in the inner library chamber.
Unfortunately, that meant the girls from Class B noticed me.
One whispered, "Are all tacticians built like that?"
Another added something about "his arms shouldn't belong to a strategist."
I pretended I didn't hear.
Leander didn't.
> "Told you, Tactician," he teased later, "Keep looking like that and you'll need a sword to cut through admirers."
> "I already have one," I replied, deadpan.
He laughed for five minutes.
---
Evening settled like a soft cloak.
I walked the halls. Not searching for anything, just… drifting.
Then I saw her.
Lily. In the corner of the western wing, near the window where moonlight pooled.
She was reading. Again.
This time, she looked up first.
> "Library stalker."
> "That's rich coming from you," I said.
We talked. Not about magic. Not about exams.
About nothing, really.
About the silence between pages. The comfort of logic. The weight of expectation.
She told me she didn't join Leander's forest party because she didn't like shallow noise.
I told her I joined late and left early.
Then there was quiet.
> "You're… different than I expected," she said.
> "Likewise."
We didn't say goodnight.
We just drifted apart — two people who weren't quite friends, not yet.
But the wall was lower now.
---
End of Entry
– Nitsuo