The inn was quiet. Gabriel sat at the desk, counting the talons he had earned from their latest dungeon. Outside, Kaida and Lowell had gone to eat, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
The silence broke.
Alaric appeared without sound, leaning casually against the wall. His voice carried a lazy amusement.
"Do you plan to keep going like this? At this pace, you will never come close to finding the answers you seek from Deimos."
Gabriel's hand stilled over the coins. He turned his gaze toward Alaric, calm but sharp.
"When I have been clearing dungeons, I learned something. You cannot leave the human realm unless you hold a specific badge—granted only to envoys, high‑ranking soldiers, or those of special station."
Alaric laughed softly, shaking his head.
"And why do you think you must leave the human realm to find Deimos?"
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Because in my dreams, I see him. He stands far from me, silent. Around him is darkness—such as could never be found in this realm. I believe my dreams are telling me Deimos is not human. Searching beyond the human realm would be wiser."
Alaric's smile widened. He applauded lightly.
"Your astuteness serves you well. You are correct—Deimos is not human. But tell me, Gabriel, how are you so certain he will even answer you?"
Gabriel fell silent.
Alaric's tone shifted, sly and deliberate.
"There is a way for you to gain that badge."
Gabriel's ears pricked at the words.
Alaric chuckled. "You could enter the empire's army, train until you rise high enough to earn it."
Gabriel dismissed the thought at once. "That would take too long."
"Much in a hurry, are we?" Alaric teased. He stretched out upon the bed, his posture careless. "Then there is another way. Enter the academy. Prove yourself. Earn your worth. And through the academy's yearly exchange, you may gain passage beyond the human realm."
Gabriel's voice was steady, but doubt lingered.
"And how would I enter such an academy? Thousands upon thousands of talented individuals strive for that place. Only the best are chosen. They would never notice us unless we revealed certain cards—and I am not willing to go that far."
Alaric's grin deepened. He lay back lazily, folding his arms behind his head.
"I might be able to help with that."
...
The rhythm of horses' hooves echoed upon the stone streets, joined by the creak of carriage wheels and the steady footsteps of men and women going about their daily affairs.
Gabriel walked with an envelope in hand, Kaida and Lowell following not far behind. Kaida clutched a piece of sweet bread in one hand, a candy gripped tightly in the other, his wide green eyes roaming curiously across the bustling city. Though his innocent manner drew glances, the way he carried himself lent him an odd air—some even whispered he might be a noble child.
Lowell, too, attracted attention with his striking appearance, though passersby did not linger long. The one who drew the most gazes was Gabriel. Though young, he carried himself with elegance, his pale skin and hair gleaming beneath the sun, his eyes like the deep, clear ocean. Ladies whispered of his beauty, and even young men found themselves unsettled by his presence.
Gabriel, oblivious to such stares, called to Kaida and Lowell to hasten their steps. They were nearing their destination.
A grand fountain stood before them, its centerpiece a statue of a cloaked boy kneeling, sword embraced against his chest. The pathway of white stone was lined with beds of flowers in every hue.
Around the fountain stood guards clad in white armor—the Order of the Radiant Veil, the royal paladin guard sworn to the empire's holy church. They were not an army of war, but of order and peace, as Lowell had once explained.
Beyond the garden rose a tall building adorned with golden designs, its great doors bearing the church's emblem split across the two panels. Young men in white robes moved about, their cloaks marked with the same golden sigil. Their pale uniforms covered everything but their heads, lending them an austere, almost spectral appearance.
Gabriel stepped forward. As they passed through the gates, a shimmering veil enveloped them—a protective barrier. It parted easily, allowing them through, a sign that their intentions were pure.
Gabriel's gaze lingered on the golden insignia etched into the temple's great doors. It was no mere decoration — it was a symbol of reverence, power, and celestial order.
At its center stood a sword, pointed downward, as if in solemn vow. It did not speak of violence, but of restraint — a guardian's oath. Surrounding it was a circular motif, its orbit-like curves reminiscent of planetary rings, suggesting a design not bound to earth alone. It whispered of the cosmos, of forces beyond mortal reach.
Behind the sword and circle, wing-like shapes unfurled — not crude feathers, but stylized arcs of divine grace. They gave the emblem lift, as though it belonged not to the empire, but to something higher.
Rendered in metallic gold, the entire design gleamed with quiet authority. It was symmetrical, deliberate, and timeless — the kind of symbol that did not ask for loyalty, but commanded it.
Inside, the temple's silence was broken only by Lowell scolding Kaida, who had reached out to touch a relic.
"If they did not want anyone to touch it," Kaida muttered, "they should not have put it here in the first place."
Gabriel turned and told them quietly, "Please, keep your voices down. We may disturb others."
Kaida growled at Lowell, who glared back, but at least the quarrel subsided. Gabriel turned again, ready to step forward, when he suddenly collided with something and stumbled to the ground.
"Master!" Lowell cried, rushing forward, but Gabriel raised a hand, shaking his head.
As Gabriel lifted his gaze, he met another's eyes — beautiful brown eyes, pure as crystal. He started to rise, but realized the person was atop him. He was about to call Lowell for aid when the young girl gasped, realizing their position, and scrambled to her feet. She reached out instinctively to help him, then hesitated, withdrawing her hand as awareness struck.
Footsteps approached. A voice called, "Claudia!" Another girl appeared, pulling the first gently aside. Only then did she notice Gabriel still on the ground, with the things Claudia had been carrying scattered across him.
Gabriel glanced at the items — a book and a delicate vase. He moved to lift them, but the second girl spoke quickly, almost sharply.
"Please, do not touch that!"
Gabriel paused, his hands still. She hurried forward, gathering the items from him, then turned to Claudia.
"What happened?"
With Lowell's help, Gabriel rose to his feet. His eyes lingered on Claudia. She was striking in her simplicity — round brown eyes, freckles across her cheeks, and long brown hair braided neatly, tied with a white bow. Gabriel thought her beautiful.
Claudia, flustered, clutched the book. Then, as if conjured from nowhere, a golden ink pen appeared in her hand. She began to write swiftly upon the pages. Gabriel watched in quiet confusion, but seeing the other girls unfazed, he remained silent.
When Claudia finished, she showed the book to her companions. The short‑haired girl with brown eyes turned to Gabriel. She bowed deeply, one hand pressed to her chest. Her voice was respectful, formal.
"Please pardon Claudia's mistake. She is clumsy and has caused you much trouble. I do hope you are unharmed."
She remained bowed until Gabriel spoke. His tone was calm, his hand raised in dismissal.
"It is quite alright."
At his words, the girl smiled and lifted her head. For a moment she froze, struck by his appearance. His faint smile adorned his face, making him seem even more radiant. To her eyes, he looked less like a man and more like a divine messenger — one of those beings spoken of in hushed reverence, known for their otherworldly beauty.
The girl introduced herself as Elia. Gabriel, composed as ever, offered his own name and those of his companions. Elia's gaze lingered longer than propriety allowed; Gabriel's youth gave him a beauty that surpassed mere handsomeness, and she could not look away.
The girl who had been with Claudia bent down and retrieved the envelope Gabriel had dropped when he collided with Claudia. She stepped forward, raising it delicately. Unlike the others, her fiery red hair cascaded freely down her shoulders, curls gleaming beneath the sun. Gabriel accepted the envelope with a faint smile, though it was bent — she had held it by the very edge, as though afraid to touch his hand. Gabriel had noticed this restraint earlier but said nothing, suspecting it was a rule against contact with outsiders. His theory seemed correct. He thanked her, and she nodded in return.
Elia, watching, asked softly if they had somewhere to go, offering to guide them. Gabriel did not waste the opportunity. His voice was calm, assured.
"We are here to determine whether we have awakened."
Elia smiled at this, replying that they could lead him there quickly, in return for the time they had lost. Gabriel inclined his head, and together they followed the girls.
Kaida, unusually silent, studied Claudia and the red‑haired girl with narrowed eyes before turning his attention back to the surroundings.
They passed through a corridor and arrived at another place — a hall encircled by gardens. The hall's arcs rose and curved down to the floor, lending it a solemn grandeur. Within stood a figure beside a table, upon which rested a bowl and a chest.
As they approached, Elia gave a nod. "From here, you must continue alone. We are not permitted closer."
Gabriel thanked her. She returned the courtesy, though her gaze lingered upon him for a moment longer before she turned away. Claudia, still quiet, bowed when Gabriel told her to take care. She watched their backs as they retreated, her eyes following until she rejoined her friends.