The stone corridor felt different after Sir Zenite left.
Not colder.
Not warmer.
Just… quieter.
His footsteps faded into the distance, armor clinking softly until even that sound disappeared, swallowed by the Academy's ancient halls. I stood there longer than I should have, hand still half-raised where he'd patted my head—like my body hadn't caught up with the moment yet.
Welcome home.
The words echoed in my chest.
Home.
I hadn't known what that word meant for a long time.
I exhaled slowly and started walking.
The Academy looked the same.
Stone walls etched with centuries of insignias. Tall windows letting in pale afternoon light. Training fields visible in the distance, scarred from countless battles—some recent, some ancient. Students passed by in small groups, their voices low, their laughter subdued.
But I wasn't the same.
And I could feel it in the way people looked at me.
Not staring.
Not whispering.
Just… noticing.
Some nodded. Others stopped mid-conversation. A few first-years straightened instinctively when I passed, eyes wide before they caught themselves. Second-years—injured, bandaged, still recovering—watched with expressions I couldn't quite read.
Respect?
Fear?
Confusion?
I didn't like any of it.
My hand tightened at my side.
When I reached the infirmary wing, the doors were open.
The smell hit me first—herbs, antiseptic salves, faint traces of blood and ozone from overused aura channels. Inside, beds lined the walls, filled with bodies that should have been moving.
Class 1-S.
My chest tightened.
Seraphyne sat at one bedside, her pink hair tied back loosely, dark circles under her eyes. Her daggers rested on the chair beside her instead of her belt—something I'd never seen before. She looked up the moment she sensed me.
Her eyes widened.
"Rain—!"
She was on her feet instantly, crossing the room in three strides and grabbing my sleeves.
"You're back!," she said, voice shaking. "Are you okay..?"
"I—yeah," I said softly. "I think so."
She pulled me into a hug before I could finish.
Hard.
Tight.
Her hands trembled against my back.
"I thought—" She stopped herself, breath hitching. "Don't ever do that again."
"I don't plan to," I muttered.
She laughed weakly, then shoved my chest with just enough force to sting. "Idiot."
But she didn't let go right away.
Varein was awake too, propped up against pillows, ribs wrapped tight. He looked worse than I remembered—paler, bruised, but still sharp-eyed. When he saw me, a crooked grin pulled at his lips.
"So," he said. "You finally decided to stop sleeping."
"You locked aura resonance with Kai," I said immediately.
His grin widened. "Yeah. Accidentally."
Kai snorted from the next bed over, lying flat with his arms crossed behind his head despite the bandages around his torso.
"Don't make it sound cool," Kai said. "It hurt like hell."
"But you didn't pull away," I said.
Kai glanced at me, expression turning serious. "Neither did you."
Aelira sat quietly near the window, her arm in a stabilizing sling, frost scars still faintly visible along her fingers. She met my eyes and gave a small nod—measured, controlled, but relieved.
"You scared us," she said.
"I scared myself," I replied.
She almost smiled.
Liraeth lay further down, shield resting against her bed, mace carefully leaned beside it. Her arm was wrapped thickly, plasma dampeners humming softly. When she noticed me looking, she scoffed.
"Don't look at me like that," she said. "Shield did its job."
"You took the hit," I said.
"That's what shields are for," she replied simply.
Arion waved weakly from another bed, face still bruised. "Next time," he said, "we fight something smaller."
Theon, Kazen, and Liam weren't awake yet.
That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
I moved from bed to bed slowly, saying very little. There were no heroic speeches left in me. No reassurances that felt honest enough to say out loud.
What mattered was that they were alive.
Barely.
When Instructor Aldred entered, his arm still bound, posture stiff but unbroken, the room fell silent.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"You stood," he said. "When no one else could."
"I didn't win alone," I replied.
"That," Aldred said, "is the correct answer."
He didn't say anything else.
He didn't need to.
Later—much later—I found myself alone again.
Evening had settled over the Academy, bathing the courtyards in amber light. I sat on the stone steps overlooking the training fields, sword resting across my knees.
The blade looked… different now.
Not changed in shape.
But awake.
My aura stirred faintly, water moving beneath my skin like a calm tide instead of a storm. White thunder crackled softly—controlled, listening.
I closed my eyes.
And for a brief moment—
I felt that place again.
Calm water.
Endless horizon.
A faceless figure waiting somewhere beyond reach.
Come find me when you get stronger.
I swallowed.
"I will," I whispered.
Footsteps approached.
I didn't turn this time.
I already knew who it was.
Sir Zenite's presence had a weight to it—steady, unshakable. He stopped beside me, resting his hands on the railing as he looked out over the Academy grounds.
"They'll talk about this for a long time," he said.
"I don't want them to," I replied.
He chuckled quietly. "Too bad."
We stood there in silence for a while.
Then he spoke again, softer.
"Your life won't be normal anymore."
I nodded. "I figured."
"Good," he said. "Normal was never meant for you."
I glanced up at him.
He wasn't smiling.
But he looked… proud.
The Academy bells rang in the distance, signaling nightfall.
Another day survived.
Another step forward.