Three threads wrapped around the dummy, pulling it closer. Another three wound around the handle of a thrown sword. Aeron pulled both at once, forcing the dummy into the blade's path.
Too slow.
His hands were trembling.
Every twitch sent sharp streams of pain through his arms. The burns did not help, but he persisted.
Aeron was no masochist.
But right now, pain felt right. He needed it.
It dragged him away from the nightmares.
The fire.
The voice.
His shallow breaths echoed through the training room. It was three in the morning, and he had not slept.
Well, he had tried to.
'This is not enough.'
He had spent the last several hours experimenting with his trait. Weaving threads around one another to increase their strength. Testing different shapes. Trying to make weapons from them. But once ten strings were stretched into form, the structure became too thin, too flimsy.
The threads themselves were absurdly strong. So far, he had found no way to snap them.
Aeron kicked the dummy.
As it lurched sideways, he flicked a thread and changed its course mid-motion, jerking it sharply back. More threads lashed out a moment later, snapping tight around the neck of the 'civilian' dummy.
He was panting now.
Not because his mana reserves were low. His body simply could not keep up.
Aeron dropped to the floor. His damp hair clung to his forehead as he stared at the threads stretched across the ground.
'I need a subspace.'
If he could store weapons inside one, he could control them like this far more effectively. Faster. Cleaner. Before he had time to hesitate.
'Daggers will have to do for now.'
His original plan for going into the city had been to find a particular blacksmith. A dwarven fugitive hiding among humans. Naturally, the Union knew about him and turned a blind eye.
'Who wouldn't want an S-rank blacksmith?'
Weapons were simpler than memories.
But that could wait. Perhaps before the dungeon trip next week.
Aeron had no desire to see the aftermath of the burning sector.
The room was silent again.
Too silent.
It lasted for three seconds.
"Help...?"
His eyes snapped to his legs, but there was no corpse there.
The tips of his fingers went cold.
His stomach growled, dragging him back to the present.
'I need to shower.'
.
.
Aeron made his way down to the general cafeteria. The Spade one was closed at this hour, their private mana chefs long gone for the night. The food here was lower quality, but in his current state, anything edible would do.
The doors opened.
And the lights were still on.
'...What?'
Aeron stopped in the doorway, instantly baffled. Who in their right mind was eating at three-thirty in the morning?
His gaze swept across the empty tables until it caught on something strange.
A blanket.
It was resting on top of one of the tables, with a tuft of light green hair sticking out from beneath it. Around it sat piles of bowls and plates, all of them completely clean.
A spoon rose into the air, carrying a bite of dessert.
'Is that chocolate cake?'
Aeron narrowed his eyes.
'No.'
'It's tiramisu.'
The spoon hovered mid-air without the slightest tremble.
Then it tilted.
The piece disappeared before reaching anything remotely resembling a face, vanishing into a slit in space.
Aeron stiffened.
'Space and telekinesis?'
'Here?'
Now he was genuinely confused. There was another space user in the academy?
But he was not in Spade.
The spoon continued moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
Then the lump beneath the blanket shifted.
It rolled across the table toward him with incredible laziness, as though even moving properly demanded too much effort.
The green hair stirred.
A full head popped out from beneath the blanket.
His cheeks were full, his mouth moving in a slow chewing motion.
Aeron froze.
'A portal?'
'In his mouth?!'
Was space not supposed to be difficult to use?
Why did this person make it look so effortless?
Then he swallowed.
Slowly.
Even that looked lazy.
His closed eyes opened by degrees, as though waking from a nap he had no intention of ending. They were half-lidded, dim, and murky, a strange mix of faded green and purple.
'Wait... how did he even sense me?'
Aeron had no idea what to make of this.
The boy's voice came out slow.
"Hi."
Aeron blinked.
"...Hi?"
Then the boy yawned.
A large one.
And there Aeron saw it — a small black rift suspended just above his tongue. His mouth closed again, and his nose twitched.
"I feel like apple pie now."
He paused, then looked at Aeron with strangely hopeful eyes.
"Do you want to join me?"
"Yes."
Aeron could have sworn the boy's eyelids lifted slightly at that.
"Great. Here's some credits."
A few seconds later, he rolled back to his original spot and flopped down at once.
Aeron had somehow been turned into an errand boy.
'He has to be in year one. This place is restricted to first-years only.'
'But why have I never heard of him?'
He glanced at the unmoving blanket.
'Maybe he slept through the war...'
Aeron checked the credits that had just been transferred to his watch.
His eyes bulged.
'How many does he want me to get?!'
He shook his head. There was no point trying to understand monsters.
.
Aeron returned a little later, balancing a cart full of apple pies as he wobbled back toward the table. The towering stack of dirty plates surrounding the blanket shifted itself neatly onto another table, clearing space as he sat down.
He served them both a slice.
"Custard?"
The custard pot floated over and poured itself neatly across both portions.
'How does he see without opening his eyes?' Aeron wondered.
Then a slow voice drifted into his head.
"Testing, testing. Can you hear me?"
"Yes, I can," Aeron answered aloud.
"Oh. Good."
'How lazy can one person get?'
Silence settled over the cafeteria as Aeron ate, watching slice after slice vanish into the small rift in the boy's mouth.
Eventually, Aeron spoke.
"So, what's your name?"
"Uhhhh... it's..."
Aeron stared.
'Did he forget his own name?'
"Iori."
Another pause.
"Iori Vane."
Listening to him speak was difficult. Every pause felt five times longer than it should have been, and every word stretched twice as far. But strangely enough, Aeron found it refreshing.
It was the first time someone in Caelis had spoken to him so casually.
He could feel some of the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. It irked him a little that apple pie and an overgrown blanket were doing more for his nerves than sleep had.
"Name?" Iori asked.
"Aeron. Aeron Araxys."
Silence followed.
Aeron was not entirely sure whether Iori had heard him.
"So, Iori... why are you eating here so late?"
"Because it's noisy during the day. I can't sleep while I eat."
Aeron stared at him.
"Isn't that unhealthy?"
The blanket gave something like a half-shrug.
"What class are you in, Iori?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I don't go."
Aeron decided not to question it.
"Then... what's your rank cap?"
"I don't know."
The silence grew heavier. Only the sound of chewing remained.
"I fell asleep when they measured it."
Aeron nearly fell off his chair.
"Do you train?"
"Yes."
"During the day? Since you don't go to class?"
"No."
Iori shifted slightly beneath the blanket.
"This is my training."
Aeron nodded slowly, as if that made any sense at all.
'No, how is this training?'
'Is this some hidden dragon?'
His mind was spiralling in seven directions, yet outwardly he kept nodding with complete seriousness.
"I see."
The custard pot lifted again.
Iori was already on his second portion.
'No way.'
'I can't lose at eating too.'
Aeron immediately began stuffing his own cheeks like a starving warrior. There was no way he was losing in his field of expertise.
.
Forty minutes passed.
Portions consumed:
Iori — 50
Aeron — 48
'I lost.'
He sighed in defeat, his expression threatening to collapse into genuine despair.
Iori, meanwhile, was still going. The spoon had not stopped moving once.
"Why are you not in Spade, Iori?"
A half-shrug answered him.
"They serve better food there."
That did it.
The blanket shot upright. The spoon clattered against the table. Iori's eyes widened, and the murky haze within them vanished at once as he stared straight into Aeron's eyes.
"Better food?"
Aeron leaned back in alarm at the sudden movement, but Iori only leaned closer. He smelled faintly of vanilla.
"Better food?" he repeated.
Aeron nodded quickly, now slightly concerned by how little distance remained between them.
"Yes. But they're only open during the day. That's why I'm here right now."
Iori's eyes did not dim.
If anything, they lit up even more.
"Take me," he said, sudden eagerness cutting straight through his laziness.
Aeron hesitated.
'I mean, people barely notice me anyway, so it should be fine.'
'I was planning to skip lessons today because of—'
His expression darkened slightly.
But Iori leaned even closer.
They were barely an inch apart now.
"Yes, I'll take you. But I have plans today."
"Ok."
"I need to go to the library and do some research."
"Ok."
"I'll get you food, but..."
Aeron lowered his voice.
"I need credits."
His watch vibrated again. He already knew Iori had sent them.
"Is that everything?"
Iori's eyes remained wide and unnervingly alert, as if he were prepared to destroy anything standing between him and better food.
"Yes."
The blanket immediately slumped back down. His head vanished beneath it once more.
"I feel like chocolate cake now."
Aeron let out a resigned sigh, accepting his new role.
He did not notice the faint smile that had found its way onto his face.
.
.
Lyra POV
She sat at her desk, her index finger tapping against the wood at measured intervals.
Classes would begin in thirty minutes.
Confusion sat poorly on Lyra.
Ordinarily, her butler would send anything she requested within three hours. It had been an entire night, and still nothing.
"The report?"
The reply came at once.
"Apologies for the delay, young miss. The student you requested proved unusually unremarkable. I investigated further at your request, but there is nothing extraordinary attached to his name. I have sent everything I could find."
A file appeared beneath the message.
Lyra opened it.
.
Preliminary Student Report
Name: Aeron Araxys
Year: First Year
Rank: 677
Suit: Spade
No notable family, factional ties, or political relevance attached to his name. Background appears ordinary. No significant public record prior to academy admission. No noteworthy reputation among staff or students at present.
Current standing places him at rank 677 in the first year. Under normal circumstances, such a student would not merit attention.
The only irregularity is his placement in Spade.
Beyond that, very little of note has surfaced. For a student assigned to Spade, the lack of memorable detail is unusual.
Conclusion: On record, Aeron Araxys appears average. His placement suggests otherwise.
.
'No family ties?'
'Why was he so drawn to the corpse?'
'He was in my class, and I did not even notice.'
There were too many irregularities.
Lyra knew his strength was not merely that of rank 677. His threads had been strong enough to move a beam her ice had failed to hold. More troubling still was the fact that he had been in her class this entire time, and she had not known.
She frowned.
The report answered nothing.
It had only left her with more questions.
She disliked that.
.
Lyra sat in class with her eyes forward, though her perception remained fixed on the door.
For some reason, Xavier had tried to speak to her. She ignored him.
Kyle had attempted telepathy once as well, but she shut it out at once. Her focus remained on Aeron. She could not afford distractions.
Then class began.
The brown-haired boy still had not appeared.
'Where is he?'
Her brows drew together slightly. Kyle noticed the shift at once and searched for its cause but found nothing.
Then she heard it.
The professor called the register.
"Aeron Araxys."
Lyra saw the professor's brow rise slightly as she repeated the name.
A brief pause followed before the professor marked him absent.
No one reacted.
No whispers.
No curiosity.
No one asked a single question.
That was another thing Lyra had begun to notice. No one seemed to register the existence of a student named Aeron Araxys.
Just as she herself had not—
not until she had seen that empty face in the fire.
Otherwise, she would have been like the others.
Sitting calmly. Thinking of other things. Conversing as though nothing were strange.
Even Kyle was oblivious. His attention remained fixed on her, however well he thought he hid it.
'Disgusting.'
Her thoughts almost drifted, but she cut them off at once.
'He keeps slipping away.'
'Strange.'
It seemed only the professor had truly noticed his absence.
'Very strange.'
.
Xavier POV
Xavier's eyes drifted to Eliza.
The light caught in Eliza's eyes, bright even behind her glasses.
"There are five optional classes to choose from. You must pick at least two."
Eliza turned back to the board and began listing them one by one.
"Runes Study.Formations Study.Castings Study.Weapons Study.Species Study."
Her gaze swept across the room.
"I recommend that all of you take Species Study as one of your courses. Especially if you plan to fight."
The words settled heavily over the class.
Xavier already knew his answer.
'Species Study and Weapons Study.'
"Bear in mind," Eliza continued, "attendance for these classes is more... flexible. As long as you pass the tests, you will be fine. But if you fail, there are no retakes."
She adjusted her glasses.
"You may simply pack your bags."
Xavier heard several students gulp.
He leaned slightly toward Luke.
"Yo, Luke."
The oaf turned to him, his forehead practically gleaming.
"What are you picking?"
Luke snorted.
"Ha. What a silly question. Of course Weapons Study."
"And?"
Luke blinked.
"What do you mean, 'and'?"
Xavier stared at him.
"It is compulsory to choose two."
Luke's face paled at once.
For a moment, he looked like a man trying very hard not to embarrass himself in public.
'Yeah... Species Study it is.'
Xavier almost smiled.
"Scarlett?" Xavier asked.
She had been unusually quiet. He turned to her and found those red eyes already narrowed in thought.
"I'm thinking Castings Study and Weapons Study," she said. "Species Study I can do at home, and I don't feel like suffering through more written tests than necessary."
Her face darkened slightly at the mention of them.
"Awwww, is someone scared of exams?"
Luke chimed in immediately.
"Ha! Loser mentality."
'As if you're any better.'
Xavier kept that thought to himself.
Scarlett's face flushed a deeper red, a mix of anger and humiliation. The surrounding air began to warm again.
Before she could snap back, Ruth spoke.
"I chose Weapons Study and Species Study."
"Nice," Xavier said. "Same here."
Beside him, Seth was quieter.
The twins were nearly identical, save for their eyes. Ruth's were brown and blue, while Seth's burned red and white.
Xavier's thoughts on Seth were mixed.
He had not seen him fight yet, but something about him felt different from his brother. Calmer. Less obvious. He also seemed kinder.
At least on the surface.
"Castings Study and Species Study for me," Seth said with a soft smile. "I'm sure Scarlett is smarter than she lets on."
"Exactly," Scarlett replied at once, her gratitude almost immediate.
'He's a mage?'
'Then why does his build scream the exact opposite?'
Xavier hesitated for a moment.
Then he changed his mind.
"I'll take Castings Study too."
A small circle of eyes turned toward him.
"You're taking castings, Xavier?" Scarlett asked.
Xavier scratched the back of his head.
"Yeah. I feel like I should be as flexible as possible as a Light Bearer."
"Wow. What a hero."
Scarlett rolled her eyes as she said it, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Luke, meanwhile, looked genuinely impressed.
"As expected of my brother."
Xavier's expression tightened.
"I, too, shall join Castings Study!" Luke declared.
"Umm... Luke, maybe don't."
Xavier's voice came out much smaller than he intended.
The twins burst into laughter from the side.
"He means you're too stupid, you oaf," Scarlett said.
And just like that, another scuffle began.
.
Aeron POV
The library carried a musty scent of paper and leather. It surprised Aeron.
He had always been fond of libraries. They offered privacy. Silence. Space enough for a person to be alone with their thoughts.
Though this time, he had come to bury those thoughts beneath books.
Even so, in a world filled with technological marvels, an old library lined with real shelves and real books came as a pleasant surprise.
Strangely, he was not alone.
Across from him lay Iori, slumped over the table with his blanket wrapped around him like a gift no one had asked for. Every now and then, a page turned itself.
Aeron stared at him for a moment.
'His training...'
He shook his head.
Aeron's reason for coming here today was very specific.
Magic circles.
Spells cast through circles possessed greater firepower, but the method had been largely abandoned for three reasons.
Long casting times.
Complex structures that had to be memorised perfectly.
And inefficient mana usage.
A circle drew in ambient mana to form the spell, but the mage still had to spend their own mana to inscribe it. Worse, each completed section had to be continuously maintained while the next was drawn.
The process was cumbersome.
Eventually, mages shifted toward will-based casting instead. It placed more strain on the mind, but the speed and efficiency made the trade worthwhile.
Aeron, however, had a different problem.
For some reason, he still could not use mana properly. It resisted him, or at least that was how it felt.
So he began considering another method.
His strings.
If they could move independently, then each one could draw a separate section of a magic circle. With enough of them working at once, he could complete the structure far faster than an ordinary mage ever could.
The thought sent a strange thrill through him.
A grin tugged at his lips.
Across the table, the blanket shuddered.
.
Perhaps it was finally time for him to cheat too.