Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Hunter's Day (7)

  "What do you mean?" Orin asked, his brows furrowing as Felis's words lingered in the air like smoke.

  There was something unsettling about his smile. Half amusement, half warning. That made both boys uneasy. They couldn't tell if his tone carried a threat or a piece of hard-earned advice.

  "Do you know something we don't?" Perseus pressed, tension edging into his voice. "Or is there some other reason you'd say something like that?"

  Felis sighed dramatically, as though the weight of their suspicions was too much for him to bear.

  "There's no need to glare at me like that," he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I'm only pointing out that something about all this feels... strange. Every guard I ran into on the way here was weak. Too weak. Not a single one was near a summoner's level. And for a place supposedly crawling with enemies? The number of them was laughably low."

  The two boys exchanged glances, unease trickling in.

  "I believe what Felis is trying to say," Aran interjected calmly, "is that we shouldn't let our guard down. If there weren't enough enemies outside, then the rest are most likely waiting beyond that door." She gave to Felis a pointed look. "Though Felis has a habit of wrapping simple warnings in a cryptic, ominous package. My apologies on his behalf."

  "There you go," Felis said with a dramatic bow, as if Aran had merely finished his own thought for him.

  Orin shook his head, deciding not to argue further. "Fine. We'll be ready." He stepped toward the heavy door, bracing himself as he fitted the key into the lock.

  The mechanism clicked, and with a slow groan the door creaked open. From the narrow gap seeped a faint, pulsing glow, an ominous red halo that spilled across the floor. Orin's eyes narrowed immediately; he didn't need to see the spell itself to recognize it. His vision allowed him to perceive magical traces before they were unleashed.

  "Everyone, be careful!" Orin shouted.

  Almost the instant after his warning, a blazing fireball roared out from the darkness within, exploding against the stone floor. Sparks scattered, heat washing over them like a furnace blast.

  The group dove aside, narrowly avoiding the searing flames.

  And then—

  "Wait a minute! Orin! Is that you?" A voice rang out from inside, sharp but familiar.

  Orin froze mid-step. That voice, he'd know it anywhere.

  "Eridus...?" he whispered.

  Without hesitation this time, he pushed the door wide open and rushed inside, his companions close behind.

  But the relief of recognition quickly gave way to confusion. Inside, the vast chamber stretched dimly lit, filled with the muffled sounds of murmurs and shifting feet. Yet what they saw didn't add up.

  Less than forty people huddled within the room, less than half of the captives they were supposed to rescue.

  Orin's breath caught in his throat. "This... doesn't make sense."

  Perseus scanned the chamber, his hand tightening on his weapon. "Where are the others?"

  From among the group of frightened young wizards huddled inside, a tall figure stepped forward. Eridus, whose large frame made him stand out, approached Orin with an apologetic look.

  “Sorry about the attack!” he blurted out, his voice awkward but sincere. “We thought you might've been those guards again.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Orin replied, brushing off the concern, though his eyes remained restless, scanning every shadow as if expecting the missing students to suddenly appear. “But... where are the others? We thought there'd be more of you here.”

  At that, Eridus's expression darkened. His hand tightened around his arm, knuckles pale, as his lips twisted with bitterness.

  “They took them...” he said heavily. “The upperclassmen, most of my yearmates... they took most of them.”

  Perseus, who until then had been silent, suddenly stepped forward with urgency burning in his eyes.

  “Where's Draco?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “I don't see him. Don't tell me—”

  “...Yes,” Eridus muttered, lowering his head as if confessing to a crime. “They took him too. We couldn't stop them. They sent in a whole squad of summoner-level knights, we never stood a chance.”

  Perseus clenched his fists, his frustration leaking through the silence.

  “That explains the empty academy halls,” Felis remarked casually from near the doorway, walking alongside Aran with his usual unnerving composure.“I was wondering why things felt too easy. What a letdown.”

  Eridus blinked in confusion, his wary eyes darting toward the two strangers.

  “Don't worry,” Orin said quickly, noticing his unease. He gestured toward them. “For now, think of them as allies. The creepy boy is Felis, and the brown-haired girl is Aran.”

  “...Creepy?” Felis tilted his head, his smile faint and unreadable. “Is that really how they see me, little priestess?”

  Aran flinched at his gaze, her hands fluttering nervously as she tried to laugh it off. “M-Maybe just a little...” she muttered under her breath.

  But Perseus, his mind still consumed by Draco's capture, ignored their exchange entirely. His tone turned sharp again as he pressed Eridus further.

  “Where did they take them? And why didn't anyone try to stop it?”

  Eridus's shoulders sagged under the weight of the accusation. He lowered his head, his voice trembling with shame.

  “I don't know where... I'm sorry. Some of the fourth-years fought back, but... they were strong. Even...”

  “Even what?” Orin cut in quickly.

  Eridus hesitated, then motioned to the cluster of younger students behind him. They parted silently, revealing a girl sitting against the wall, her figure small and fragile, with light-blue hair. Her head was buried between her knees. Her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs.

  Orin's heart sank the moment he recognized her.

  “Antilae!” He rushed forward, his voice tight with worry. “What happened to her?”

  Eridus's voice was heavy with grief. “She saw it all. Her father, Professor Velorum, he was captured too. Right in front of her. She hasn't spoken, hasn't moved... not since that moment.”

  For a moment, a heavy silence weighed down on the room. The students could hear nothing but their own shallow breaths, each one too drained or too afraid to speak. The tension was suffocating, until Felis's voice cut through it like a blade.

  “I imagine that those guards have likely prepared a special prison for sorcerers,” he murmured, his tone distant, almost as though he were speaking to himself rather than the others.“But that isn't our concern right now. What matters is getting the remaining students to safety. I'll go on ahead. When you're ready, regroup at the main gate. I don't sense any more enemies nearby, so reaching it should be possible without incident. Aran, guide them to the wagons. I'll meet with Mahasim to discuss our next move.”

  He didn't wait for questions or objections. After one final glance over the room, Felis slipped away, his presence vanishing into the corridor like a shadow swallowed by the night.

  The silence returned, but this time it was different.

  Taking a steadying breath, Orin crossed the room to where Antilae sat trembling, her tears staining her sleeves. He knelt beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder before pulling her close.

  “Antilae, we have to go,” he whispered, his voice as soft as he could manage. “I promise you, we'll find a way to save the others. But if we stay here now... we'll only be captured too. Please. Trust me.”

  Her green eyes lifted to his, red and swollen from crying. The moment they met his gaze, she broke, clutching him tightly and sobbing into his chest. Orin held her, not rushing her grief. Minutes bled away before her tears finally slowed, her breathing growing steadier.

  When quiet returned, it was Perseus who broke it.

  “The best option,” he said firmly, though his tone carried a faint weariness, “is to follow that guy's advice. Leave the academy while you can. We don't know when the guards will return, or if they'll come back for the rest of the students.”

  Orin turned to him quickly. “And you? What about you? You're not coming with us?”

  Perseus gave a small, rueful smile. “No. It's better if I stay. None of the guards who saw me rebel survived the encounter, so... no one can testify against me. That gives me a chance to move unnoticed, to gather information. Hector should know something about where they're taking the others. If I can stay behind, I might find out.”

  Orin hesitated. He wanted Perseus with them. He wanted to believe safety came from staying together. But Perseus's logic was undeniable, an ally working from within could prove invaluable.

  “...I understand,” Orin said at last, extending his hand. His grip was steady despite the turmoil in his chest. “For my part, I swear I'll do everything I can to bring Draco and the others back.”

  Perseus grasped his hand firmly, a rare flicker of resolve lighting his eyes. “Thank you. I owe you one. May the winds favor your escape.”

  Orin nodded, then turned toward Eridus and the rest of the boys. The moment their eyes met, no words were needed, they knew what had to be done.

  Still, Orin spoke, his voice carrying both urgency and determination.

  “It's time. Let's go!”