The carriage rolled to a stop before the academy gates, which creaked open at its arrival. As it passed through, the gates slowly closed behind them with a heavy thud.
The coachman stepped down from the front of the carriage, his boots landing softly on the stone. With practiced grace, he approached the door, opened it, and announced in a calm, respectful voice,
"We have arrived, My Lady."
Aria gave a small nod and stepped out carefully, cradling Luna—still fast asleep—in her arms. She tipped the coachman with a quiet thanks before turning toward the academy.
The wrought-iron gate creaked softly as she slipped inside. The halls were silent, save for the faint echo of her footsteps. Luna didn't stir—her breath warm and steady against Aria's chest.
Aria glanced down, brushing a few strands of hair from Luna's eyes. Her fingers trembled as they lingered on the girl's cheek. Her eyes were still red, but her smile, faint and tired, held a fragile peace.
She reached the dormitory gate, opened it, and closed it behind her without a sound. Climbing the stairs, she made her way to her room.
Inside, everything was quiet.
She moved to the bed and carefully laid Luna down, pulling the sheets over her small form. With tender hands, she tucked her in, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Her steps were slow, but her fury burned hot. As she turned to the door, her expression hardened—tight lips, blazing eyes, every movement taut with purpose.
Aria left the room in silence, but her face said everything: brows drawn tight, jaw locked, bloodshot eyes sharp with wrath. Anyone who saw her storming down the empty hallway would've wisely stepped aside.
She descended the stairs in a rush, flung open the gate, and marched toward the men's dormitory.
Without hesitation, she pushed through the second gate and climbed the stairs with purpose, each step heavier than the last.
She reached Nyx's door.
Then, without knocking, she burst in.
There he was—Nyx, asleep in bed, face peaceful, breathing slow. Calm. Undisturbed. It made her blood boil.
Aria stared at him with eyes that could ignite stone. She turned to the window beside his bed, opened it, and looked down. A thick bush swayed gently beneath the night breeze.
Her gaze flicked back to Nyx. Then to the bush. Then back again.
Decision made.
She stormed to the bed and slapped him across the face.
SMACK!
"AW—!" Nyx jolted awake, flailing in confusion.
Before he could even sit up, Aria grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"AW! AW! What did I do—?!"
She didn't answer.
With one swift, merciless heave—she threw him out the window.
"AAAAAA—WHY—AAAA—!"
CRASH!
A plume of dust exploded from the bushes below as Nyx's scream was cut off by impact. The whole dormitory probably heard it.
And then—without hesitation—Aria climbed onto the windowsill and jumped.
WHUMP!
She landed directly onto Nyx's stomach.
"PFFFF—!" He gasped as the air was violently knocked out of him, limbs flailing in all directions.
She stood, grabbed him by the collar again, and began dragging his limp, groaning body across the grass toward the nearby training ground.
He didn't even have time to process what was happening.
With a final grunt, she threw him to the dirt, where he crumpled beside the worn-down Old Oak.
Aria sat herself down onto the gnarled roots, silent and seething.
She said nothing.
But her glare said everything.
Eyebrows drawn tight. Jaw locked. Eyes narrowed to glowing embers.
She watched as Nyx groaned, trying to remember how to breathe.
She was waiting.
Waiting for him to pull himself together—because then, the real reason for her fury would begin.
…
After a while, Nyx stirred. The worst of the pain had faded. He sat up slowly—then froze.
Aria was standing there.
Terror surged through him. He began trembling, his body instinctively recoiling from the sight of his sister.
He knew her well. One wrong word, one wrong move, and it could mean a beating.
Carefully, cautiously, he looked up at her.
"…What did I do wrong?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Wrong move.
Aria's eyes narrowed, fury simmering just beneath the surface. She clenched her fists—but held herself back. Inhale. Exhale.
Then, slowly, she stood tall, towering over Nyx.
"You really don't know?" she said, her voice cold.
Nyx flinched at the sound. His mind scrambled, searching for an answer. Then a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as a memory returned.
"It's my fault," he muttered. "I should've hurried inside the blacksmith."
His voice trembled. "I got distracted… the inventory was incredible. They offered me a tour and I—I just couldn't say no…"
He glanced up, regret heavy in his eyes.
"If Luna's upset, I–"
"Stop."
Aria cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to squeeze the fury from her head.
"You have no idea what happened."
She turned away, took a breath, and slowly sat on the old oak trunk nearby.
"Luna disappeared."
The words dropped like a stone.
Silence stretched between them, thick and crushing.
Nyx blinked, stunned. "What?"
Aria didn't look at him. She stared at the ground, massaging her forehead as if the pressure behind her eyes might explode.
"Someone took her," she said quietly, fury and guilt lacing her voice. "Two hours. Gone. Without my knowledge. Eighty-one knights—eighty-one—searched every corner of the city before they finally found her."
She turned her gaze on him, sharp and tired.
"If you'd just come with us, none of this would've happened."
Her voice cracked, then surged again, angrier—but this time at herself.
"I left her in front of a store. For one minute. One damn minute."
She buried her face in her hands, unable to continue for a moment.
She muttered under her breath "I shouldn't have."
Then she sat down, her legs giving out beneath her.
Nyx lowered his head. His fingers gripped the patches of grass beneath him like it might anchor him to the moment—keep him from falling into the hole yawning wide in his chest.
"I… didn't know it could get that bad," he whispered.
No sarcasm. No jokes. Just his voice, soft and bare.
He sat there for a moment, processing it. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.
"thought it'd be fine," he muttered. "You two were together. I thought… if I took a bit longer, it wouldn't matter much."
He let out a bitter chuckle—but there was no humor in it.
his eyes welled up, tears flowing down his cheeks
down to his knees onto the grass
"Why."
"I always mess things up"
"Is it my intuition?"
"I though it be fine if I – I just - just spend there a few moments more"
His voice shook.
"I should've been there. I should've just said no. I shouldn't have been there in the first place, I – I promised her."
He looked up at her again, eyes glassy but dry. "You're right. If I'd come, maybe none of this would've happened."
He didn't try to defend himself. He didn't plead for forgiveness. He just said it, like a truth he'd been forced to swallow.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Really. I'm so damn sorry, Aria."
A breeze rustled through the leaves beside them.
"…Is she okay?" he asked, almost afraid to know.
Aria's voice cut through the silence. "Sorry? To whom?"
She looked at him, her gaze soft but questioning.
"Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one who disappeared."
Nyx's eyes widened. He lowered his gaze, pressing his head against his knees. "Ah... right," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
"You're right…"
Aria was silent for a moment, but then she spoke again—this time, her tone sharp. "Enough."
She stood up abruptly, her posture firm. "There's no point in dwelling on things you can't change."
She extended her hand to him. "Come on. Stand up."
Reluctantly, Nyx stretched out his arm, hesitating before her strong grip pulled him to his feet. He stood, but the weight on his chest seemed heavier than before.
Aria studied him with a pitiful look, but her words were practical. "Go clean yourself up. You look like you've been through hell."
The wind picked up, biting at him as the scenery around him blurred into the background of his troubled mind. For a moment, Nyx questioned his place in it all, the overwhelming sense of loss pressing on him.
"Go get some rest. Check on Luna," Aria added as she turned her back to him, heading toward her dormitory.
Nyx watched her walk away, his gaze fixed on her fading figure.
His legs buckled beneath him, and he sank down, kneeling in the grass.
His hands trembled—clenched so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
He stared at them. The hands that had done nothing. That had hesitated.
With a grimace, he whispered to himself, "Impossible…"
Then, through gritted teeth, "Never again."
The words tasted like blood.
He forced himself upright, legs shaky, heart pounding.
He looked up at the stars overhead, the cold wind slapping his face like punishment.
Then he turned—toward the dormitory.
His jaw was set.
"I'll be better," he muttered. "Whatever it takes."
He didn't know how yet. But he would. Because next time…
There wouldn't be a next time.