"Did you see Instructor Draven or Instructor Kael at the spot?" Silas asked, his voice tight with anticipation.
The student's eyes immediately filled with tears. "They... if they didn't come in time... we'd all be dead by now," he sobbed. "Those... those monsters... all cloaked in black... they attacked us without any reason."
A wave of relief washed over Silas, so potent it almost made his knees weak. Draven and Kael had been there. They were safe.
"Do you know where they are now?" Rhys pressed, his own relief warring with his worry.
The student nodded, still crying. "They ran after those bastards. The monsters couldn't fight against our instructors, so they tried to flee. Instructor Draven and Instructor Kael chased after them..."
Silas and Rhys exchanged a long, meaningful look. The news wasn't entirely reassuring, their boyfriends were now actively pursuing a group of murderers. but knowing they were together, powerful and on the offensive, was a small comfort. For now, they were the hunters, not the hunted.
Two tense days passed, and the infirmary kept filling with wounded students. Still no sign of Draven or Kael. It was like the attacks were designed to keep them busy.
Silas and Rhys haunted the infirmary, piecing together what they could from the survivors: Draven and Kael were still out there, chasing the figures in black cloaks. At night Rhys finally managed a few hours of uneasy sleep after worrying himself sick over Kael, while Jacob did his best to keep both of them calm. Theron checked in whenever he could, passing on any scrap of news he heard about Draven or Kael.
Late that night, Silas lay awake on his bed when a faint light pulsed beyond the academy walls—dimming twice in quick succession. He knew that signal. It was the secret call of his family's squad.
He slipped out without waking Rhys or Jacob. The archduke houses and the royal family aren't like ordinary nobility. The four ancient lines have endured for ages, each with its own autonomy; the Royal family doesn't meddle in the affairs of the three archduchies, and they return the courtesy. But any of the three families never afraid of the royal family at all.
Taking the hidden passage Draven used to use, Silas left the academy and headed for the forest. Once under the trees he said quietly, firmly, "Come out." An order, from Count Silas Valerius, youngest lord of House Valerius.
A phantom shadow detached itself from the darkness. Seven more emerged from the trees, one after another. All eight knelt.
Silas looked at them, expression cool. "Why is the Phantom Squad at the Argent Spire at this hour?"
The first answered, hands pressed together in salute. "Young lord, the margrave is missing."
Silas's brows drew together. "My brother? Since when? Where?"
"He vanished from the battlefield against the Beast Empire," the phantom said. "No one knows his whereabouts."
Silas exhaled. "Tell Father and Mother not to worry. I know my brother. He's alive, if he weren't, he'd have sent a signal, no matter what."
"Master also instructed us to warn you to stay safe," the phantom added. "The Imperium faces an unknown enemy."
Silas nodded. "Do you know anything about the black-cloaked attackers hitting our students?"
Their faces tightened in unison. The lead phantom bowed his head. "Young lord, those are the same. We've been trying to track them. The unknown enemy the Imperium is facing."
"Report to me the moment you learn anything about my brother or the black-cloaked ones," Silas said. He drew an emblem from his space pouch and handed it over. "Give this to my father. It's tied to my brother . He gave me three, saying that if his life were ever in danger, the emblem would lead us to him."
The phantom took it, and the eight melted back into the night.
Silas returned to the dorm, took out pen and paper, and wrote a short note. He went to an empty balcony, gave a low whistle, and a striking red bird with sharp talons and a powerful beak swept down from the sky. He tossed the folded paper up; the bird snatched it mid-air and vanished into the distance.
Back in his room, Silas lay down and finally fell asleep. No one saw what he'd done.
In a land of myth and magic, where ancient trees brushed against the clouds and mystical creatures soared through the sky, stood a magnificent, ancient castle draped in flowering vines.
The red bird, a crimson streak against the endless blue, circled high above the castle before letting out a sharp screech and diving towards a specific balcony.
A beautiful young woman, with the poise and elegance of a princess, emerged from the shadows of her room onto the sunlit stone. Anyone who saw her would be instantly captivated. She pursed her lips and whistled a lilting, melodic tune. The red bird landed gracefully on the railing before her.
She retrieved a piece of dried jerky from a pouch at her waist and offered it to the bird. As the creature happily took the treat, the young woman carefully untied the small, folded paper from its leg.
She unfurled the note and read its contents. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. She turned and went back into her room, pulling open a personal drawer. She took out a small, carefully wrapped object, placed it inside her own spirit pouch, and returned to the balcony. She tied the new pouch securely to the bird's leg.
With another whistle, the bird took flight, soaring back into the sky and disappearing over the vast horizon.
The girl sighed, her gaze lingering on the spot where the bird had vanished. A look of annoyance crossed her beautiful features.
"You damn Silas!" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "I'll teach you when and how to contact your cousin. You don't speak to me for four years, and now, suddenly, when you need something..." She sighed again, a mix of exasperation and fondness in her eyes.
A few more days crawled by, the air thick with a tense, waiting silence. Then, the news broke, carried by a fresh batch of returning students.
There had been a decisive confrontation. Instructors Draven and Kael had orchestrated an ambush, successfully trapping a group of the black-cloaked assailants. The victory was grim; the two they captured swallowed poison before they could be interrogated, and the rest had fought to the bitter end, dying in battle rather than surrendering.
A full seven days after their departure, Draven and Kael were finally back.
The news reached Silas and Rhys in the middle of a lecture. The moment the instructor dismissed them, Silas was a blur of motion. He didn't even say goodbye to Rhys, just bolted for Draven's apartment, fumbling for the key Draven had given him. He burst through the door to find Draven emerging from the steamy bathroom, a towel knotted at his waist, his hair dripping onto his broad shoulders.
Forgetting to even close the door, Silas crossed the room in three long strides and launched himself at Draven. He clung to him, a desperate, frantic energy in his embrace as his hands roamed over Draven's back and chest, searching for any hint of pain or injury.
Draven let out a low, amused chuckle, his arms circling Silas's waist and pulling him flush against his warm, damp skin. "Silas," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm on Silas's frayed nerves. "I'm perfectly fine. I'm here now."
Silas pulled back just enough to glare, his pout offset by the relief shining in his eyes. He made a fist and thumped it lightly against Draven's chest. "You idiot! You left for a dangerous mission without telling me!"
The amusement left Draven's face, replaced by a grim hardness. "It was... not a normal mission, Silas. Those people... I don't know where they came from. They fought without fear and killed themselves rather than be captured."
Held tightly in Draven's embrace, Silas nodded against his chest. "Mmm. I heard something similar from... somewhere else. The whole Imperium is dealing with them."
A flicker of confusion crossed Draven's face he still believed Silas was a commoner with no connections to such high-level intelligence but he let it go. "Well, for now, the academy is secure," he said, his voice softening. "And I'm not going on any more missions for a while. I promise."
That was all Silas needed to hear. He tilted his head up, stood on his toes, and crushed his mouth to Draven's. The kiss started as a gentle collision, a soft reassurance that he was real and whole, but it quickly deepened, igniting into a fierce, claiming passion that spoke of seven long days of fear and a lifetime of longing.
Meanwhile, in another apartment across the academy, a similar scene was unfolding. As soon as Silas had bolted, Rhys made a beeline for Kael's room. He had also endured seven long days of silence and fear.
He didn't bother knocking. The door swung open to reveal Kael, looking weary but whole. Rhys didn't give him a single second to process. He launched himself forward, scrambling right into Kael's lap where he sat on the edge of his bed. Kael's arms came around him instinctively as Rhys began frantically kissing his face, his jaw, his neck, his lips, all while complaining in angry, muffled bursts.
"Damn it, Kael! You dare to leave without telling me!"
Kael chuckled, capturing Rhys's mouth for a proper, calming kiss. After a few breathless minutes, he finally gave him the answer he was demanding. "Rhys, it was a secret mission from the academy. We couldn't tell anyone. Those guys… they weren't simple."
Annoyance flashed in Rhys's eyes. "So what are the Imperium's guards doing? They should be taking care of it!"
Kael's expression sobered. "They are, Rhys. They're facing the same problem. I don't know where these people came from, but they've attacked the Imperium, too."
Rhys paused, his anger deflating into pure concern. He cupped Kael's face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the faint lines of exhaustion under his eyes. "You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"
Kael shook his head, leaning in to press a soft, reassuring kiss to Rhys's lips. "No, Rhys, everything is okay. We won't have any missions for a while now. I have all the time in the world to spend with you."