The air trembled as their magic intertwined, rippling like a living current. Her usual destructive power had transformed—no longer wild and chaotic, but elegant and mesmerizing. Wrapped in his mana, her energy bloomed into a breathtaking spectacle, swirling around them like ribbons of light.
Silver-gold threads spilled from her fingertips, twining with his deep violet aura. Together, they danced in midair, coiling and unfurling as if the two magics recognized each other—yearning to meet, to become one.
A hush fell over the training hall. Students paused mid-practice, drawn by the radiant spectacle. But Aysel noticed none of it; her eyes remained closed, her world narrowed to the calm pulse of magic and the quiet presence guiding her.
Lucien's gaze, however, flicked up to the crowd. His cold, distant eyes hardened to icy steel. The murmurs died instantly, the onlookers stepping back under the weight of his silent warning. No one dared to break the moment that belonged solely to the two of them.
"Just like that… steady," his voice slipped into her awareness, low and smooth, a tether amid the spinning colors. "You're doing perfectly."
A shiver passed through her—not from fear, but from the strange intimacy of the moment. Her magic flowed into his, curling and twining like two streams meeting in secret. Her chest rose and fell as warmth spread through her.
"It feels… like my magic is being pulled away," she whispered, barely audible over the hum of their power. "But… it doesn't hurt. It feels… right."
Lucien hummed softly.
"That's natural. When you lend mana to someone else, it always feels like a piece of you is leaving. It can be uncomfortable at first… but soon, it will feel effortless."
For a fleeting moment, despite his reputation for frost and distance, his voice carried something gentler—an unspoken patience, a quiet strength that anchored her. And somewhere in his gaze, faint and fleeting, there was a shadow of recognition, as if he had felt this bond before… and feared where it might lead.
Then—clap, clap, clap!
The spell shattered.
Aysel's eyes flew open, the glowing streams of magic fading into the air. Their teacher approached with a wide, pleased smile.
Lucien instantly stepped back, the warmth between them vanishing like mist in sunlight. His face returned to its impassive mask, as if the tender guidance of moments ago had been nothing but a dream he refused to acknowledge.
"Excellent work, both of you—especially the first year," the teacher said, pride clear in his voice.
Aysel flushed, fidgeting under the praise.
"I… I had a great partner. I couldn't have done this alone," she murmured, her voice small.
The teacher chuckled, shaking his head.
"True, having a skilled senior helps. But to harmonize so quickly on your first try? That takes talent. It seems the two of you are naturally compatible. Well done."
He gave Lucien a firm pat on the shoulder before moving on to assess the other students.
Aysel let out a soft sigh of relief. For the first time since arriving at the academy, she felt as though she had done something right.
She had grown so used to being an anomaly, to feeling like she didn't belong, that she had almost forgotten what acknowledgement felt like.
Her gaze drifted toward Lucien. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, silent and composed.
"You understand it now. I don't have anything else to teach you, it seems," he said before she could speak, his voice calm but distant. It was as if he was already prepared to leave her behind.
The words struck her unexpectedly, leaving a dull ache in her chest. It was uncomfortable… and confusing.
I barely even know him… so why does this feel so heavy? Why does my heart feel like this?
She opened her mouth, forcing herself to speak.
"That's… I think it's all because of you that I managed it."
He didn't react, his expression unreadable, though for a brief second, his fingers in his pocket curled.
"No. I didn't do much. I only guided you a little, and you grasped it almost instantly. It's your own natural talent," he replied curtly.
Then his eyes caught on something glinting at her collarbone. A faint shine peeked out from under her uniform.
The small necklace.
"...That stone," he said suddenly, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful. "Did someone give it to you?"
She nodded. "Yes. Riven gave it to me. He said it can chase away nightmares. Is that true?"
Lucien went silent, his gaze lingering on the stone. After a moment, he finally spoke.
"…Yes. But not all dreams can be chased away."
A subtle shiver ran through her at his words, as if he wasn't just speaking about dreams. It felt like a warning, a message wrapped in sorrow she couldn't yet decipher.
Before she could ask, he shifted away, turning his back to her.
"The class will end soon. I'll take my leave. Practice what we did earlier when you have the time."
And with that, he walked away, his figure retreating in quiet elegance. But this time, as he moved toward the door, there was a fleeting pause in his steps, like he wanted to say something… and chose silence instead.
She exhaled, watching him go, a strange mix of curiosity and determination stirring in her chest.
I guess I'll have to find out on my own…
Her mind drifted toward the academy's vast library. If there were answers—about the stone, about Lucien's cryptic words, and the shadow behind his cold eyes—that was where she would start.
Straightening her posture, she brushed the dust from her skirt. A quiet resolve settled over her.
Her next goal was set.
It was time to start searching for the truth.