The blue banner bearing a waning crescent swayed gently in the hallway breeze—the proud crest of House Aqua. Aysel followed closely behind Riven, her eyes darting over every detail of the dormitory. The air smelled faintly of salt and clean water, a refreshing contrast to the outside streets.
The moment they stepped inside, voices rose in greeting. Students called out to Riven with warm familiarity, a few even stopping mid-conversation to wave at him.
It didn't surprise Aysel. Riven had the kind of presence people gravitated to—sharp features, warm eyes, and a calm confidence that drew others in. He was effortlessly charming, and that made him dangerous in a different way.
"We're almost at my room," Riven said with a small smile. "Let's sit down there."
They stopped before a polished oak door, its surface engraved with faint silver runes. With a simple touch of his palm, the lock clicked open. Aysel's eyes widened slightly—she hadn't realized these doors could only be opened by the owner's mana signature.
The three of them stepped into his quarters. It was unexpectedly spacious—clean, orderly, with just the essentials: a neatly made bed, a tall wardrobe, and a desk stacked with neatly arranged books.
Riven's eyes softened as he caught her looking around. "Do you like it?"
Aysel startled, heat rushing to her cheeks. "S-Sorry. I wasn't trying to pry, it's just… this is my first time in a guy's room."
His chuckle was quiet but warm. "I figured as much. No need to apologize."
He gestured toward a low couch and table. "Please, have a seat."
Zephyr moved first, sliding onto the couch and patting the empty spot beside him. "Here, Aysel. Sit next to me."
She hesitated, glancing between him and Riven. Something in Zephyr's gaze felt deliberate, as if he was positioning her away from Riven.
Riven only hummed lightly. "It's fine. Go ahead. I'll make us some tea."
With an easy stride, he went to a cabinet and began preparing a teapot and cups.
Aysel sat carefully beside Zephyr. The moment she settled, he leaned in, voice low enough for only her to hear. "Be careful with him. Don't ever let your guard down."
Her brow furrowed. "Why would you—"
Before she could finish, Riven returned, carrying the tray. Zephyr immediately leaned back, expression neutral.
"Here," Riven said, setting two cups before them.
Aysel picked hers up, pausing at the unfamiliar fragrance—earthy, floral, and strangely soothing. "This… smells different."
Riven's smile deepened. "It's a special herbal tea from my hometown. Good for the body. Calms the nerves."
"It sounds wonderful," she admitted, curiosity outweighing her caution.
"How about tasting it first?" His tone was light, inviting.
She didn't need further encouragement. One sip and warmth flowed through her veins, unwinding every knot of tension in her muscles. The taste was delicate, but the effect was immediate—comforting, almost intoxicating.
"It's… amazing," she murmured, eyes half-lidded.
"I'm glad you like it."
When Riven glanced toward Zephyr's untouched cup, his expression sharpened slightly. "Not thirsty?"
"I don't drink tea," Zephyr replied smoothly, though his tone carried a quiet defiance.
Riven's eyes lingered for a moment before he looked away. "Suit yourself."
Aysel set her cup down, remembering why she had come. "About the dream I mentioned earlier—"
"Don't worry," Riven interrupted gently, a faintly mysterious smile playing on his lips. "I have it under control. All you need is to trust me."
Her lips parted. "What do you—"
The words died in her throat. A sudden heaviness washed over her, her vision blurring.
"Wha… what's happening…"
Her body swayed. Strong arms caught her before she could fall.
"It's alright," Riven's voice was low, almost tender. "I've got you."
Darkness swallowed her whole.
---
When she opened her eyes, she was standing somewhere else entirely—an endless field of herbs swaying under a pale sky. The scent of gentian and frostgrass lingered in the cool air.
Her heart sank.
No… she knew this place.
She looked down—and saw the pale, slender hands of Aylin's body.
"Why… am I here? The last thing I remember is—" Her mind froze. "Riven… he drugged me?"
Her breath caught. But before she could process, a ripple of energy swept through the field.
Aylin's body moved on its own, turning toward the disturbance. Frost-blue magic bloomed in her palm, coalescing into a Frostwind Gentian—its petals glowing like moonlight on ice. As it opened, a silver saber emerged from its heart, the hilt wrapped in vines dotted with tiny blossoms. The blade shimmered like liquid moonlight.
"I know you're there," Aylin's voice rang out, calm but edged with steel.
From behind a tree, a figure emerged—tall, draped in dark robes, his long black hair stirring in the wind. A blindfold concealed his eyes, but his presence was as sharp as a blade.
"You're… perceptive," his voice was deep, roughened like weathered stone.
"And you're reckless," Aylin shot back. "Walking in broad daylight."
He stepped closer, unbothered. "The light doesn't harm me. I have no reason to fear it."
Her grip on the saber tightened, magic curling along the edge in a dangerous shimmer.
"Relax," he said evenly. "I'm not here to take your life… yet."
He stopped a few feet away, the wind snapping his cloak behind him.
"I don't trust the words of someone who sends monsters to slaughter humans," she replied coldly.
"That's fair." His answer came without hesitation, without offense.
He raised a hand. Her stance shifted instinctively, ready for an attack. But instead of magic or a weapon, a crow-like creature materialized in his palm—its feathers nearly translucent, catching the light in faint iridescence.
"Last time we met, I told you we'd fight so you could prove your strength," he said, his voice turning unreadable.
The crow took to the air with a flutter.
"I've changed my mind. You'll fight this instead. Win… and I'll give you a gift. Lose…" His tone dipped into something colder.
"…and you'll become mine."