As they left, Blanche couldn't shake the feeling,
They had seen only the surface of the war brewing beneath Asterblume.
And no matter which side they chose,
they were already too deep to turn back.
The walk back to the academy grounds was steeped in a heavy silence.
The night air felt colder. Harsher.
Vila led the way, moving with quick, sharp strides as if trying to outrun the conversation she knew was coming.
Blanche, Yuxin, and Ruka followed several paces behind, exchanging glances without words. The once-solid rhythm between them now felt... fractured.
Yuxin's shadows twitched at her heels—restless, agitated.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice cutting into the night like a blade.
"You gonna tell us what the hell just happened back there?"
Vila didn't slow down.
"I told you." she said, without turning. "It was dangerous to stay too long."
"Yeah, no shit," Yuxin snapped. "But you didn't just warn us, Vila. You dragged us out like the building was about to explode."
Blanche said nothing, but her eyes glared over the elf, watching Vila carefully.
Ruka shifted uncomfortably, hugging her notebook closer.
Yuxin's footsteps quickened, matching Vila's pace. Her voice dropped, lower, rougher.
"You attacked Seryn without a second thought. You treated her like an enemy you've hated for years. And you expect us to just—what? Nod and follow like puppies?"
Vila finally stopped.
She turned, slowly, facing them under the dim moonlight.
Her golden eyes were unreadable—cold as a winter lake.
"I don't owe you my past."
Her voice was emotionless.
Measured.
But not completely steady.
Yuxin stepped closer, shadows curling at her shoulders.
"Maybe you don't. But you're asking for our trust. And trust goes both ways."
Vila said nothing, she doesn't have to be obligated for doing so.
For a heartbeat, the silence between them stretched too thin, ready to snap. Blanche finally spoke, her voice even.
"You're not wrong to be cautious, Vila. But neither are we."
Ruka's voice was soft but firm. "We need to know who we're fighting for. Or against."
Vila's hands tightened slightly at her sides.
Not anger. Hesitation. Doubt. Maybe even guilt.
But when she spoke again, her voice was still that same detached, brittle tone.
"I'm not asking you to fight for me."
A pause.
A flicker of something almost—almost—like regret crossed her face.
"I just don't want you getting crushed under something you can't see coming."
Yuxin scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Right. Real convincing."
But there was no real venom in her words.
Just... confusion.
Hurt she didn't know how to express.
For all her sharpness, Yuxin didn't like being pushed away.
Not by someone she'd started to trust, even if she'd never admit it aloud.
Under the silver light of the half-moon, the argument boiled over.
Vila faced them, arms crossed, posture stiff and distant.
"I'm not asking you to fight for me," Vila repeated coldly. "You don't need to be involved."
Yuxin scoffed, her patience running razor-thin.
"You dragged us into it the second you barged into Blanche's room like a damn fugitive."
Vila's eyes narrowed, the faintest twitch of irritation cracking through her stoic mask.
"I dragged you out of danger," she snapped back. "Something you wouldn't understand—you've never lost anyone you cared about."
The words slipped out—sharp, careless.
For a breath, everything went silent.
Yuxin stood frozen.
Then—
Snap.
Yuxin lunged forward, grabbing Vila by the front of her collar with a violent jerk.
The force pulled Vila a step off balance, shadows surging around Yuxin's arms like snapping whips.
Blanche and Ruka moved at once, instinct kicking in.
"Yuxin—!" Blanche barked, reaching to grab her shoulder.
"Stop!" Ruka added, hands trembling slightly.
But Yuxin didn't back down.
Her voice cracked—raw and furious.
"Not just you!" she shouted into Vila's face.
"You're not the only one who's lost everything!"
Her hands tightened on Vila's cloak, eyes burning.
Vila's breath hitched—but she didn't fight back.
Didn't dodge.
She just stood there, silver gaze steady, almost... hollow.
The rage in Yuxin's voice vibrated through the cold night air, heavier than any threat.
"You don't get to pretend you're the only broken thing here."
The air snapped like a drawn wire.
Yuxin's grip tightened around Vila's cloak—and this time, she didn't let go.
Her shadows surged, faster than a human eye could track, wrapping around Vila's arms like chains.
"Fight me, damn you!" Yuxin snarled, voice sharp with fury.
Vila twisted her body, breaking the tendrils with a sharp jerk of her shoulders, but she didn't retaliate.
She stepped back, hands raised—not in surrender, but refusal.
"I won't," Vila said, her voice low.
"Coward!" Yuxin spat, lunging again, shadows morphing into a dozen slashing tendrils, whipping toward Vila's chest and head.
Vila dodged with inhuman grace, feet barely touching the ground.
But Yuxin was relentless—speed, raw instinct, wrath.
Every move Yuxin made was meant to provoke. To force Vila to react. But the futile attempts after the third lashing blow nearly caught her side, Vila's stoic restraint finally cracked. With a sharp exhale, she stepped in with a calm demeanor.
One, two—
Her palm struck Yuxin's shoulder, sending a shock of impact through her body. Not enough to cripple.
Just enough to warn.
But Yuxin didn't stop. She twisted in midair, landing lightly, shadows reforming into blades around her arms.
"You think you're better than us? You think you're the only one allowed to be broken?!"
"FUCK THAT!"
She charged.
Vila's expression hardened.
This time, she raised her arm, a burst of silver energy cracking through the ground like a whip—root-like tendrils of energy rose to parry Yuxin's shadow blades, locking them in place.
Blanche cursed under her breath.
Enough.
She stepped forward, lifting her hand.
The air above her shimmered—and with a pulse of pure, radiant force, Luminaria answered her call.
A surge of blinding white light bloomed between Yuxin and Vila, cutting through the shadows and roots like a blade of sunrise.
The ground trembled.
The shadows hissed and evaporated.
Vila jumped back. Yuxin shielded her eyes, snarling.
"Enough!" Blanche's voice cracked through the chaos, laced with command.
The spirit of light hovered behind her, a shimmering form of raw Æther, its wings arcing protectively over the trio.
The battlefield fell still.
Only heavy breathing remained.
Ruka stepped back, clutching her notebook tightly, wide-eyed.
Blanche lowered her hand slowly, glaring between Vila and Yuxin.
"We are not enemies," she said, voice cutting. "Not yet. But keep this up... and we will be."
Vila straightened, her gaze cold but muted. A defeated sigh escaped her lips.
Yuxin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, scowling.
Neither apologized.
Neither backed down.
But they didn't move again, either.
The Hollow's shadows slowly settled, the ground beneath them humming with leftover rage.
The cracks between them had widened.
The night pressed heavy around them as they walked the last stretch back to the dorms.
No one spoke.
The aftermath of the fight still hung between them, thick and ugly.
Once inside Blanche's room, the door clicked shut with a soft but final sound.
The wards glowed faintly—a reminder that at least here, for now, they were safe.
Vila stood by the window, arms crossed, staring out into the moonlit courtyard.
Her reflection in the glass was pale, ghostlike.
Yuxin slumped against the wall, arms folded, still simmering but silent.
Ruka quietly perched on the bed, hugging her knees close, watching everything with wide, unreadable eyes.
Blanche stepped into the center of the room, facing Vila's turned back.
For a moment, she just watched her.
The silence dragged long enough that even Yuxin stirred.
Then Blanche spoke, her voice clear but not harsh.
"You can't keep pushing us away."
Blanche continued, stepping closer.
Vila didn't respond, not until she responded with a bitter tone.
"I'm not the only one."
"Everyone shares the same moment, but different past."
Vila's shoulders stiffened, but she still didn't turn.
Blanche's tone softened—painfully, honestly.
"We're not asking for your life, Vila. We're asking for your trust."
A breath.
"Not because we deserve it by default. But because we've fought beside you. We've bled beside you."
Still nothing.
Blanche pressed on, stepping even closer, until they were just a few feet apart.
"Trust is a choice," she said. "And you can't survive this war alone. No matter how strong you think you are."
Finally, Vila spoke.
Her voice was low, almost a whisper—but it cut sharper than any blade.
"I'm the last of my kind."
The words cracked the room open like a wound, the one thing that Vila had mentioned back in Myrdvawein.
"I'm strong, and I'm proud. I never back down on my words, nor I deny that I have flaws to consider. Alone? Everyone already left, no matter how strong we are as a family. We choose to trust, we choose to welcome those who end up taking them away."
"You get it?. Star elves are no more, it'd be only me."
Yuxin flinched.
Ruka's hands tightened around her sleeves.
Vila turned slightly, just enough that the moonlight caught her face—and for the first time, they saw it.
"Myrdvawein, isn't a home I recognize. The ripe fruits that children and elders often pick, the endless flowing water that is for everyone to relieve their thirst, and the trees with a cheering breeze to soothe your mind after a long day."
The image of an utopia, formed in their minds.
The grief.
The rage.
The unbearable weight of centuries pressing into a fragile elf heart. The weight of the haunting souls behind the tribe's death.
"I trusted once," Vila said, voice trembling beneath its cold shell.
"And I watched everything burn. But you are trying to convince me that they deserve a chance. Who are you to trample their souls, my family?"
Her golden eyes met Blanche's, fierce and broken. Those eyes spoke everything, one wrong word and Vila would really bind a curse over everyone who tries to prove her wrong.
"What's left for me to believe in, if not the screams and the terror from that night?"
"I was utterly powerless, but when I regain the power to fight, there's nothing else to achieve but to mourn."
For a moment, even Blanche couldn't find her voice.
But she held Vila's gaze, steady as a lighthouse in a storm.
"Us," Blanche said quietly.
"You can believe in us."
No grand promises. No lies of certainty.
Just three broken kids, offering what pieces of themselves they still had.
And maybe—just maybe—offering Vila a reason to hope again.
The silence that followed Blanche's words stretched thin, delicate.
Vila stood motionless, breathing shallow.
She glanced at Blanche's outstretched hand — a simple gesture, no magic, no force.
Just trust.
An offer.
Something Vila hadn't been given in a very long time.
Her fingers twitched slightly at her side, betraying the war inside her.
Step forward?
Or walk away?
Vila's Golden eyes flicked up, meeting Blanche's steady gaze — calm, patient, unyielding.
Slowly — achingly slowly — Vila raised her hand, just a few centimeters—
But before she could fully reach out—
Yuxin moved.
Without hesitation, without a second thought.
She grabbed Vila's hand firmly, ignoring the half-startled look Vila gave her.
Yuxin's grip wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either.
It was real. Grounded. Fierce.
"You don't have to trust us all the way," Yuxin muttered, voice low, still tinged with frustration. "But you sure as hell aren't carrying all this shit alone anymore."
Her words were blunt.
Messy.
Almost angry.
But underneath them was a stubborn, burning loyalty.
Vila blinked — a rare crack in her emotionless facade. For a breathless second, she just stared at Yuxin. Then, slowly, the tension bled from Vila's shoulders.
Her hand — still in Yuxin's — loosened, accepting the contact without pulling away. And then—
"Do whatever."
The smallest smile.
Barely there.
A faint curve at the corner of her mouth.
But it was real.
A tiny piece of the ice that had entombed Vila's heart for so long, beginning to melt.
Blanche smiled faintly too, lowering her hand now that Yuxin had said everything that needed to be said — in the only way that would reach Vila.
Ruka let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, smiling shyly into her sleeve.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the room felt lighter.
Not healed.
Not perfect.
But connected.
And maybe, just maybe, strong enough to survive what was coming next.