Clyde sensed that something was wrong.
The feeling sat quietly in his chest, not sharp enough to panic, but persistent enough to distract him. As he walked, his thoughts turned inward.
Did my ichor mutate, he wondered, or was it connected to ascension?
The Hollow Star felt different. Not stronger. Not unstable. Just… altered, like a familiar rhythm played at a slightly different tempo.
He returned to the Lunar Sentinels with that question lingering in his mind. The headquarters felt the same as always, orderly and restrained, its sigils humming at a steady frequency. If something fundamental had changed within him, the place gave no reaction to it.
Clyde activated his Hollow Eyes.
His vision sharpened, layers of resonance unfolding over the physical world. Flow lines appeared. Pressure gradients. Echoes of lingering techniques. Yet nothing stood out as foreign. His perception behaved exactly as it always had, only now the strain that usually followed did not arrive. He maintained the state longer than expected before deactivating it.
That alone unsettled him.
As he stepped further inside, he caught sight of a familiar figure ahead. Soren stood near one of the inner halls, reviewing a slate of reports. Clyde moved to greet him.
Before he could speak, he felt it.
Another presence slipped in behind him, light and sudden, like a gust of wind passing too close. Not hostile. Not concealed. Just fast.
Clyde turned.
A man stood there, carrying the air of someone middle-aged despite appearing no older than his twenties. He wore a blue suit with a matching tie, his black trousers neatly pressed, every detail intentional. His posture was relaxed, almost casual.
Behind him stood a girl.
Her presence felt heavier. Her shadow stretched along the floor at an unnatural angle, bending where it should not. She wore a black and purple dress, her long hair darker than the night sky beyond the academy walls.
The man smiled brightly, as if this were a pleasant meeting rather than an intrusion.
"I am the bearer of the Gale Ichor," he said. "My name is Aurelian Nox Voss. And the girl behind me is my partner. She wields the Shroud Ichor."
His voice carried a lively enthusiasm, bordering on excessive.
Clyde tilted his head slightly. "Partner? You two are married?"
Silence followed.
No one laughed. No one smiled.
The girl stepped forward, her expression unchanged. "I am Eira Nox Noctis," she said evenly. "And I wield the Shroud Ichor."
Clyde frowned and glanced toward Soren. "Weren't there only four ichor cards? How did they obtain theirs?"
Soren adjusted his glasses. "They did not receive their cards from the Lunar Sentinels. Ichor cards can be forged. With fragments of a Howling and the correct materials, an artificial card can be created."
Aurelian leaned closer, eyes gleaming with interest. "I heard from Marlowe that you are an Ichorborn as well. What is your name?"
"I am Clyde Nox Pvolae," Clyde replied. "I wield the Hollow Star Ichor."
Aurelian's expression brightened further. "Hollow Star? Which phase?"
Clyde hesitated.
"He has only recently awakened it," Soren said calmly. "New Moon phase."
Clyde remembered the book Soren had given him. Each lunar phase carried its own designation, beginning with the New Moon and ending with the Full Moon. Ascension depended heavily on timing. The New Moon and Full Moon were considered stable, forgiving. The Blood Moon and Blue Moon were feared. Attempting ascension beneath those skies often ended with loss of control and transformation into a Howling.
Aldric stepped forward, cutting the moment short. "That will be all for today. Go home and rest. Be back by six tomorrow morning."
Clyde did not argue. He left immediately, payment already in hand, his thoughts drifting toward mundane concerns as a way to steady himself.
When he returned home, the scent of beef stew greeted him. Luchian stood at the stove, stirring slowly.
"How was work?" Luchian asked.
"It was fine," Clyde said, sitting down.
He ate quickly, then excused himself, claiming he needed to study. Luchian watched him go, his smile fading. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps it was time to speak about their parents, but he pushed it aside.
Not tonight.
Clyde sat at his desk and activated his Hollow Eyes once more. Again, the same result. The mutation had not changed his perception. Only his endurance. He could hold the state far longer without fatigue.
A familiar gust brushed past him and Aurelian was standing beside his chair.
Clyde jumped to his feet. "How did you get in here?"
"My divine ichor," Aurelian said casually. "Flash Step."
He glanced at his watch. "I'm heading to train at the Sentinels' grounds. Want to join me?"
Clyde hesitated, then nodded.
Aurelian vaulted out the window without hesitation, gesturing for Clyde to follow. Clyde stared for a moment, then chose the stairs instead.
Luchian looked up as Clyde passed. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going to read with friends," Clyde said quickly.
He shut the door behind him and ran.
The streets of Cristae were alive despite the endless night. Vendors shouted to passing crowds. Children ran through narrow lanes. Horses with glowing lanterns mounted to their saddles moved through the streets. Even beneath a sky ruled permanently by the moon, the city thrived in its own way, though its age and economic decline were impossible to ignore.
They walked together in silence until Aurelian finally spoke.
"Clyde," he said, "how much do you really understand about lunar ichor?"