Rain fell in cold sheets, dancing off the stone walkways and forming shallow pools that shimmered with faint mana light. The crystal lanterns that lined the paths flickered uneasily, their glow dim and pale against the storm.
Wind hissed through the arches, tugging at cloaks and banners. The ancient stone walls of the dormitory groaned softly. From deep within the Academy, faint pulses of mana still resonated.
Water dripped from the iron railings and ivy-draped balconies. Most windows were dark. Most, but not all.
Some glowed faintly blue or violet—students studying, whispering, or simply unable to sleep. Magic lingered in the air, heavy and raw, like a storm behind your eyes.
Beneath the rain, between shadows, someone moved untouched by the downpour. A transparent layer of mana hovered above her, shielding her from the rain.
Her long copper hair, streaked with blonde at the edges, was braided loosely to one side and swayed in the wind. Her deep sea-green eyes looked distant, unfocused.
She walked and walked, until she reached the Peach Orchard.
…
[Sarah's POV]
"I know you've been following me for a while now. You didn't even bother to hide your mana signature. It's as if you wanted me to notice," I said.
Silence. No reply came for a moment.
Then…
A sharp, shattering sound.
I turned to see a girl, no older than me, with black hair and straight-cut bangs standing there, her face tense.
"Why were you following me?" I asked.
"So now you pretend not to know me? What did I even expect from the Elowen family," she scoffed.
"Am I supposed to know you?"
"If not me, then at least this."
She pointed to her brooch.
An ancient-looking piece, delicately crafted from burnished gold and inlaid with deep emeralds, shaped in the elegant form of intertwined leaves. Each vein and curve was etched with age-worn precision. It didn't shine, but it held a quiet weight—like a relic that remembered far more than it showed.
"Ah—"
"So now you remember?"
"I—why are you here?" I muttered. "You vanished. I-I heard your fathe—"
"Don't speak of my father with your filthy mouth! You Elowens are the reason my family fell into ruin. You just couldn't bear to see someone from a branch family born with more talent than you!"
"..." I couldn't reply.
"...Because of you, my father died. He was trying to save me from the mages you sent to kill me."
"I—I didn't know! I was told your father died trying to betray the family—"
"SHUT UP!"
"I—"
"All I wanted was to serve the main house... to be your friend... to help you. But just because I had more talent than you... because I was born to a lesser bloodline… my father died protecting me."
"I… I'm sorry."
No more words were spoken.
"You know what hurts the most…?" Her voice cracked.
"Even as he lay there, bleeding out—half his body burned from shielding me from that mage's final spell—he still told me to forgive you. You and your family. With his last breath, he asked me to let go of the hate."
The sound of the rain grew louder. Each drop struck the stone like a drumbeat—harsh and unrelenting.
Tears slid down her cheeks. Or maybe it was just the rain. In the darkness, I couldn't tell.
Watching her like this twisted something inside me. But what hurt more… was the doubt.
I wanted to believe her. I really did.
But Mother always said Josh Elowen died a traitor—cut down while trying to run.
And she, his daughter, was the one who vanished that night.
I don't know how long we stood there, beneath the rain. Long enough that I couldn't keep my barrier spell going.
We stood there silently, soaked to the bone.
Until she finally said,
"I can't forgive you—or your family… But after my father died, I learned something. Those mages were after me, yes, but they were also after him. He had discovered something. The Elowen family is trying to do something… It should be obvious even to you. I've been lurking around, trying to piece it together. And I think I finally have a clue."
"What...? What are you talking about—?"
"Arthur Valen."
"..."
"That night when Marcus dragged you into that, even when you resisted with everything you had... there was a reason. Your blood—that ritual—it couldn't have been done with just anyone. My father's journal hinted at it. I don't know the full truth yet, but… something's not right."
"I… I didn't want to help Marcus. But—I was scared. I couldn't refuse..."
"Help me," she whispered, almost broken. "Help me make sense of this. I want to believe you weren't involved."
There was a tremble in her voice—not just a plea for answers, but a quiet cry for something to hold onto.
As if even if the truth was cruel, she needed me to lie. To say I had nothing to do with her father's death.
So she could keep believing. Even if it hurt.
"I—I need some time… please. I don't understand what's happening either. J-just give me a little time. I'll talk to my family—my mother! We'll figure this out, I swear—"
I trailed off.
Her eyes… they weren't just sad anymore.
They were cold. Hollow.
"…So even now, after everything," she said quietly, "you still choose them.
Even when you know something's wrong.
Even when you can't fully trust them…
You still run to them."
The rain poured harder, but it couldn't drown the silence that followed.
"I—"
Before I could say another word…
she was already gone.
I stood there, frozen.
I don't know how long I stayed like that.
Long enough for the storm to end…
…leaving only the silence behind.
…
I—
I couldn't pretend anymore.
I always knew something was off.
It wasn't always like this.
Three years ago, things began to change. Subtly, at first. A lingering tension in the halls… servants who wouldn't meet your eyes… The atmosphere in the Elowen estate grew heavy, as if the very mana in the air had started to curdle.
Then came the accusations. Julie and her father, Josh Elowen, branded traitors. I still remember the day their names were struck from the lineage. Portraits vanished overnight. Father said nothing. Mother… only watched.
I didn't understand it then. I was told they tried to sell our secrets to the Arcanist Courts. That Josh dabbled in forbidden rituals, that Julie was unstable, too powerful to control. But none of it ever made sense. Josh had served our family faithfully for years and Julie… Julie was... she was my friend.
And then she vanished.
After that, things only grew worse. The manor grew quieter, colder. I wasn't allowed to ask questions. Every time I did, Mother would place her hand gently on mine and say, "Some truths are poison, Sarah. Best not to sip them."
I hated that phrase.
A year ago, when I finally moved here… I thought maybe, just maybe, I could start over… I told myself things would get better.
But nothing changed…
I clenched my fists.
"I can't remain like this."
…
To Be Continued…