"When two blades move as one, memory awakens."
Ⅰ · Trial by Steel
The clang of a bell rolled across Aurelia's morning field—three crisp notes that hung in the air like ripples on still water.
Inside the outer arena, dozens of first-year swordsmen stood in formation, their faces unremarkable and blank, sunlight glinting off polished weapons. Barrier pillars enclosed the stone ring, runes across their surface pulsing with soft light.
Instructor Kael Draven faced them, coat stirring in the wind. "Today," he said, his voice cutting through the chatter, "you fight not each other but judgment itself."
With his gloved hand, he traced a sigil in the air. Shuddering, gates opened, tenebrous things came out: towering figures of metal, walking with an ungainly, rhythmic stride.
Students gasped as the shapes came into focus. They were Aethersteel Sentinels-relics of an age when magic and machinery had been one. Each stood twice a man's height, built of bronze-gray plates carved with glowing runes. Their eyes burned amber; a lattice of crystal protected the spinning light-core in each chest.
"Ancient constructs," Kael went on, "They fight of their own will, learn from your movements, and never tire. Treat them as enemies, not tools.
One Sentinel flexed its claws, the metal grinding like thunder.
Kael's gaze swept the class. "Ashwell. Valerion. Step forward."
A murmur rippled. Leon felt the weight of hundreds of eyes as he walked toward the circle. Aris Valerion matched his pace, silver hair catching the sun like a halo.
Kael gestured toward the largest construct. "Show me harmony."
Ⅱ · The Aethersteel Sentinel
The Sentinel's head rotated with a hiss; runes across its limbs blazed from amber to white. Steam vented from shoulder ports, filling the air with the scent of hot metal.
Aris drew her rapier, the blade singing. "I'll take the front."
Leon nodded, resting his hand on the hilt at his hip. "Then I'll guard your flank."
The construct charged. Each step cracked stone, shockwaves rippling beneath their boots. It swung an arm—a gleaming blade attached at the wrist—straight for Aris.
She slipped aside, thrusting upward. "Lunaris Pierce!" Her rapier struck the elbow joint, sparks bursting.
Leon followed with a quick drawing-in of Skyfall Arc—a diagonal slash that crossed the Sentinel's shoulder in a line of light.
The crowd roared.
Then the Sentinel stopped. Its core flickered, eyes dimmed, then brightened again—faster, sharper. It raised its arm, perfectly copying Leon's earlier stance.
"It learned," Leon muttered.
The next swing came low, a mimic of his own strike. He blocked, barely. The impact numbed his hand.
Aris darted behind it, aiming for the glowing core, but the construct's back opened like wings; vents blasted compressed air that hurled her aside. She rolled, came up on one knee.
Leon caught the next blow on his katana's spine, knees bending under the weight. "Move!"
Aris darted clear as the blade bit into the earth, spraying sparks. Leon spun, drawing deep breaths. The world narrowed to heartbeat and movement.
Shukuchi.
A blur, he was out of sight, reappearing beside the automaton's flank. His blade flashed twice, carving a cross-shaped wound.
Metal shrieked. The Sentinel reeled.
Aris raised her hand. "*Radiant Bind!*" Strands of light shot from her fingertips, wrapping around the construct's legs. For one heartbeat it froze.
Leon leaped, twisting in mid-air to bring the blade down in a falling strike—Azure Wing.
The runes on the Sentinel's breast flared crimson. The bindings shattered. Four new limbs split from its sides, spinning blades at their ends. A whirlwind of steel filled the arena.
Leon and Aris fell back, puffing.
"It adapts faster every moment," she warned.
"Then we end it now."
He sheathed his sword, and blew slowly out. "Lend me your light."
Aris nodded once, pointing her rapier skyward. Mana spiraled from her core into a beam that rained down over him, coating his blade in shimmering azure flame.
Leon drew, Tenrai Kazan, Heaven's Flash.
A column of white light tore through the field. The Sentinel swung to counter; their weapons met in an explosion of radiance. The shockwave threw dust and petals across the arena.
When the light resolved, the construct stood stock still, its core parted by a perfect line. The top half slid off with a metallic sigh and crashed to the floor.
Silence.
Then Kael's voice, quiet but laced with approval: "Victory—Aris Valerion and Leon Ashwell."
Applause broke out.
Leon sheathed his sword, chest heaving. Aris lowered her rapier, her hair sticking in strands to her damp cheek. Their eyes met through the haze of dust.
She said quietly, "You moved like you already knew what I'd do.
Leon smiled. "Maybe I did."
Ⅲ · Echo of Memory
Healers rushed onto the field. Kael knelt beside the fallen Sentinel, forcing open its cracked chest plate. Inside, the runic core still pulsed faintly, as if loath to die.
"These models haven't responded like this in years," he muttered. "Something awakened them."
He looked up—and for a heartbeat thought he saw a shadow high in the stands. A lone figure leaning against the railing, arms folded, face hidden beneath the brim of his cap. Watching.
The air around that silhouette had seemed colder. Kael blinked, and he was gone.
Ⅳ · After the Trial
The academy infirmary faintly smelled of mana herbs and polished steel.
Students came and went, laughing about bruises and burns like veterans comparing scars.
Leon sat on the edge of a cot while a healer wrapped his wrist in glowing linen.
"You push too hard for a first day," she reprimanded lightly.
"I learn faster when I'm sore", he said with a slight smile.
"Then you must be a genius," she replied, finishing the bandage.
Across the room, under a skylight, Aris sat while another healer stitched a small cut on her arm. She caught Leon's eye a moment, then looked away quickly, the ghost of a flush touching her cheeks.
Outside, voices echoed from the hall—Iris, Reis, and Selene arguing about something, a usual sight.
"Oi, Leon!" Reis called the moment he appeared in the doorway. "You actually took down that walking fortress? I was betting it would smash you into the wall."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the confidence."
Iris swatted Reis's arm. "Ignore him. You were amazing out there! The way your blade moved—it was like music."
She adjusted her spectacles, unruffled as ever. "Music that near blew half the arena apart," she said. "Kael was smiling. That's a concern.
Leon chuckled softly. "He smiled?"
"Barely," Iris said. "But it counts.
Aris joined them, her steps silent. "You three make quite the chorus."
Reis saluted playfully. "And you, Your Highness, make quite the blade."
"Spare me the flattery." Yet her tone was soft. She glanced at Leon. "You should rest."
"I will."
A comfortable, almost-warm silence fell.
Iris clasped her hands. "Let's grab food before the cafeteria closes. My mana's running on fumes."
Selene sighed but nodded. "Fine. I suppose data collection can wait."
Reis laughed. "Translation: she's hungry too."
Aris hesitated, turning to Leon. "Join us?"
"Of course," he said.
Ⅴ · The Evening Table
Aurelia's cafeteria looked more like a banquet hall than a mess, with chandeliers floating overhead, mana lamps casting a soft amber light over long tables, and the air buzzing with chatter and clinking dishes.
Iris piled her tray with stew and bread; Reis with anything that looked fried. Selene chose neatly portioned vegetables, sitting down with the precision of a scholar arranging notes.
Leon sat across from Aris; a soft hum of awkward energy danced between them, tangling with the smell of roasted herbs.
Reis raised a toast, his mug full of juice. "To making day one!"
They all burst out laughing, clinking cups.
Conversation drifted from classes to hometowns. Iris told stories about growing up near the capital's cathedral; Reis bragged about hunting skyfish; Selene critiqued his exaggerations with surgical precision.
Aris listened quietly, smiling now and then. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "It's strange. I've attended innumerable ceremonies, but this feels… freer."
"Because no one's bowing every time you breathe?" Reis teased.
"Perhaps," she conceded with a small laugh.
Leon watched her, a warmness stirring in his chest that he couldn't explain. He broke a piece of bread and said without thinking, "You still prefer sweet tea over wine, don't you?"
Aris blinked. "How did you—"
He froze, realizing what he'd said. "Lucky guess?"
She looked at him a bit longer, her expression unreadable. "A good guess," she said, finally casting her eyes down to the amber liquid in her cup. "It's funny. You feel. familiar, Leon Ashwell. Like I've known you longer than a day."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe we met in another life."
"Maybe." Her lips curved. "If so, I hope we got along.
"I think we did."
The hall was silent for the beat of a heart. There was just the soft sound of their laughter.
Ⅵ · Under the Garden Lights
The group drifted apart later in the night, Reis heading towards the dorm gym, Iris to the library, and Selene muttering something about research.
Leon found himself strolling inner gardens of the academy. Lanterns floated between flowering mana-trees; petals glowed softly under their light.
He paused at a stone bridge spanning a koi pond. The water reflected the sky-star rippled with every breath of wind.
Footsteps approached. "You left early," Aris said, joining him at the railing.
"Needed air," he replied.
She stood beside him, hands folded loosely before her. "You fight differently," she said after a while. "Not like the instructors here. Every motion has weight, but you never waste it."
"My father says a blade's true strength is in restraint."
She nodded. "Then he's a wise man."
They watched the koi drift through silver reflections. Fireflies rose from the reeds.
"Back there," Aris said quietly, "when we moved together… it felt as if we'd trained for years."
"I felt that too."
She regarded him, moonlight painting her eyes a deeper blue. "Why do you think that is?"
He hesitated. "Because maybe our souls remember what we've forgotten."
A faint smile touched her lips. "You speak like a poet, Leon Ashwell."
"Or a fool."
"Sometimes they're the same thing."
The breeze carried the scent of blossoms between them. Neither spoke for a moment. It was small again, the space between them; almost vanished.
Then a shiver crawled up Leon's spine. He turned—certain someone was watching him.
At the far end of the garden, half hidden behind an archway, one student was quite still. His uniform makes him fit into the shadow, his face obscured. Yet the air around him felt wrong—thick, heavy, as if it swallowed sound.
The head of the figure tilted slightly as if amused, then disappeared into the darkness.
"Leon?" Aris asked.
He forced a breath. "Nothing. Thought I saw someone."
She frowned, following his gaze. The path was deserted.
The instant was over, yet the discomfort remained.
Aris touched his sleeve lightly. "Whatever it was, it's gone."
"Yeah," he said, although he didn't believe it. She withdrew her hand, smiling faintly. "Tomorrow, then. Instructor Kael said he'll begin formal pair training."
He nodded. "We'll be ready." She turned to disappear into the underbrush, and moonlight caught the silver in her hair.
Leon watched until she disappeared among the trees. The wind stirred again, carrying faint whispers from the arena far below—metal on stone, gears groaning in the dark, as if the broken Sentinel yet stirred. And unseen, beyond sight, the unseeliing watcher smiled.
"Blades in harmony, hearts in resonance--and thus flows the song of reminiscence."