The sun was setting quickly, setting the courtyard ablaze with fading gold. Long shadows stretched across the grass like silent witnesses as Kael entered his secluded place of peace.
Tonight, however, That peace felt fragile.
He had almost ignored the note. It could have been a prank or a trap, someone trying to flush him out. But there was something about the handwriting—sharp and deliberate, as if the writer already knew the answer to their own question. That alone was enough to draw him here.
His face stayed composed, but inside, his thoughts tangled like threads pulled too tight.
Is the person I'm about to meet a friend or a foe?
His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword. The weight of it grounded him.
"I knew curiosity would win." The voice slipped from the shadows like silk, calm and sure. It seemed as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.
Kael's heartbeat spiked.
"Who's there?"
A figure emerged from the darkness, step by step, until the dying light revealed her.
"Astra?"
The name left his mouth before he could stop it. Of all people, he never imagined that the academy's top beauty, admired by everyone, would be standing there. And certainly not that she might know something about his past.
She tilted her head slightly, a faint smile playing at her lips. "Wondering why I'm the one standing here?" she asked, as if plucking the thought directly from his mind.
"I mean... yeah." He muttered, still off balance. "I didn't exactly assume you were my secret admirer."
Her eyes hardened. The softness vanished like mist.
"Put that sword away," she said. "You won't need it."
Kael kept his grip firm.
"Then tell me. What do you know about my past?"
"No." She answered simply.
He almost laughed. Not from humor, but from sheer frustration.
"Then this conversation is over," he snapped, his patience wearing thin.
She didn't respond.
Instead, she moved closer, silent as a shadow. The last light caught her face. Calm. Calculating. She stopped just in front of him, close enough that the air between them felt charged.
Her whisper slid past his guard like a blade.
"How's the backlash, hm? Didn't you think about the countdown when you used it just to boost your ego?"
Kael's breath hitched. His eyes widened, and fear flashed across his face before he could hide it. He stumbled back, searching for words that wouldn't come.
"You're probably wondering why I know your secret," she continued, her voice cool and sharp. "Even though you never told anyone. Not even your precious friends, right?"
Something flickered across her face then, brief and almost imperceptible. Disgust.
"People worship words like they're sacred," she said quietly. "They forget who bleeds for them."
"What...how?" he managed, but she didn't answer.
Calm down. Think. She knows about my ability. If she wanted to harm me, she would have gone to the academy. They would have arrested me on the spot. Even if they doubted her, they would have kept watch because I'm a threat. That leaves only one possibility.
"What do you want?" he asked, cold and collected now.
"Ah, now that's the right question." For the first time, a real smile flickered across her face.
"Let's just say I have a goal," she said slowly. "And for now, you're useful. Don't make me regret it."
"So the first letter about the shadows, the one warning that they could swallow me, was from you?" Kael asked.
"Of course." She replied without hesitation. "I had to make sure you stayed quiet."
She moved in until she was so close that her breath tingled against his skin. His grip on the hilt tightened instinctively at the sudden proximity.
"But then," she hissed in a low, dangerous voice, "you did something so stupid that I had no choice but to meet with you in person and make this clear."
Her words cut the air like blades.
"Don't. Ever. Use. Your. Ability. In. front. Of. Other. People. Ever. Again. Understand?"
Kael flinched. She was right. "Yeah, I know that myself. You don't have to remind me."
"No," she snapped. "I do. Mister Turin almost noticed that something was off in your fight. Your last move was too unnatural. I had to step in and say it was pure luck. You should be grateful he believed me. Only because I'm the best swordsman was my word unquestioned."
Kael let out a dry laugh. "Hah. Okay, I get it. I'm an idiot, and the beautiful Astra is a genius admired by everyone."
"Sarcasm," she said coldly, "is only for those who can handle it."
She straightened, slipping into the rhythm of someone who had already mapped out the conversation.
"Back to the point. We'll both live normally during our training and avoid each other completely. Under no circumstances should anyone see us together."
"That's fine by me. I don't want to see your face either," he remarked dryly.
"Funny," she said with a trace of amusement. "First time we're on the same page."
She ticked invisible boxes in the air as she spoke.
"We complete our training. We both become Chroniclers. We receive our marks. When we're granted the right to venture beyond the walls, we'll embark on a journey to solve the mystery of the Nameless City."
Her voice dropped slightly on those last words, as if she were speaking to herself more than to him.
"The Nameless City is more than a mystery," she murmured. "It's a wound. And wounds should be closed."
Kael had been half-listening, leaning against a tree with his arms folded. But when he heard the words "Nameless City," something shifted inside him.
A buried image rose up: an old, yellowed map in a dusty classroom with the city's name scratched out in thick, black ink. It was a lesson that had left him with a strange chill he'd never been able to shake. His heart gave a quiet, traitorous thud.
He straightened. "Nameless City...you mean the one from the tale our teacher told us?"
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, but close. "Now you're listening. Yes. Exactly."
"Why?" he demanded. "Even if I said yes, every Chronicler before us has tried to solve the mystery of its disappearance. What makes you think we can succeed where they failed?"
She turned away slightly, her cloak catching the breeze.
"That's a secret," she said coolly. "All you need to know is this timeline."
Her footsteps crunched softly on the gravel as she started to walk off, as if the conversation had reached its end.
"Wait," Kael called after her. Instinct kicked in. He ran up and grabbed her shoulder. We're not done yet—"
The sentence was never finished.
Astra's reaction was instantaneous. She twisted, caught his arm, and hurled him over her shoulder with surgical precision. He slammed into the ground. Air left his lungs in a violent rush. His head hit the floor and the world flashed white around the edges.
She was on top of him in a heartbeat. She pinned his back with one knee, her breath hot against his ear.
"Don't you ever touch me," she hissed. The words weren't loud, but they vibrated with dangerous certainty.
Kael groaned. "Can you please get up? Your chest is touching my back."
A startled sound escaped her. She pushed him away quickly, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks as she turned away to compose herself.
"You have two options," she said sharply. "Become one of the Chroniclers and solve an unsolvable mystery, or rot in a cell beneath the Emperor's palace. Your decision."
Kael slowly sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. Her presence was a storm. Controlled, dangerous, impossible to ignore.
"One day, you'll come to me voluntarily," she said over her shoulder. "I'll be waiting for that day to continue this conversation."
She walked away without another glance, as if the choice she'd offered was inevitable.
Kael leaned against the tree trunk, his heartbeat slowly evening out.
She's dangerous and arrogant. But...the Nameless City. That mystery has haunted me ever since I heard about it. Damn it, I trust her words. There was something in them, like a promise or a threat. Maybe both.
He tilted his head back and stared at the branches swaying against the twilight sky. The summer air wrapped around him like a calm that didn't quite reach his chest.
"Hah. It's no use pondering that. I'll stay away from her for now. She won't tell the academy about my power. She needs me. That much is certain."
He lay back with his eyes half-closed and let the warm breeze drift over him. For a moment, the courtyard seemed still.
Then something shifted.
Not the wind.
A branch creaked softly in the darkness—too deliberately. Two faint glimmers blinked once, like eyes reflecting distant light, and then vanished.
He didn't see them. But they saw him.