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Chapter 14 - A promise

The sun crept lazily through the academy courtyard, painting the cobblestone paths in soft gold. Birds chirped somewhere above, and the faint chatter of students echoed in the distance.

Ragnar, Light, Magna, and Yuuki sat around one of the stone benches near the fountain — breakfast trays half-empty, laughter returning little by little after last night's heavy conversation.

Ragnar leaned back with a relaxed grin, stretching his arms.

"So… anyone else still sore from yesterday, or am I just outta shape?"

Light laughed, a piece of bread half-hanging from his mouth. "You? Outta shape? Please. I'm the one who almost passed out after Magna launched me into a wall."

Magna smirked. "That's what happens when you run in front of me mid-spell, idiot."

Yuuki chuckled nervously. "At least we didn't, you know… die. That's something to celebrate, right?"

Their laughter filled the space — light, genuine. They were trying to move on. Trying to forget.

But then, Alys approached.

Her steps were sharp, deliberate. Her usually pristine hair was a little messy, and her expression — cold, tense, unreadable. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes sweeping across the group.

"You're all laughing?" she asked quietly. "After that?"

The laughter died instantly.

Ragnar sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Alys, look—"

"No," she snapped. "We lost. Badly. And you're sitting here like it didn't even matter."

Light frowned. "C'mon, Alys. It's not that deep—"

"Not that deep!?" Her voice rose, trembling between anger and frustration. "Do you even realize how humiliating that was? We went up against the Five Crowns and got crushed! Completely crushed! Everyone's talking about it!"

Yuuki's hands tightened around his cup, his gaze falling to the ground. Magna's calm expression darkened slightly.

Ragnar stood, his relaxed demeanor fading. "Alys, calm down. We all know we lost. You don't need to rub it in."

Her glare locked onto him. "You're acting like it's fine! Like it's normal! We could've won if someone actually took the fight seriously instead of cracking jokes mid-battle!"

Ragnar's eyes narrowed — the lightheartedness gone.

"Don't blame us for your pride, Alys. You're the one who pushed for that fight. You were the one who froze when Ren went for you."

The air went dead silent. Even the birds stopped singing.

Alys' expression faltered, shock flickering for a second before anger flared again. "You don't know what it's like—!"

"Oh, I know exactly what it's like," Ragnar cut in, voice calm but heavy. "You wanted to prove yourself. You wanted to beat the Five Crowns because your pride couldn't handle losing. But when it mattered, you hesitated. And that cost all of us."

Alys clenched her fists so tight her knuckles went white. "You think I wanted to freeze!? You think I enjoyed watching everyone pick up my slack!?" Her voice cracked with fury — and pain.

For a second, Ragnar looked ready to fire back — but stopped. He saw something in her eyes. That frustration wasn't just from losing. It was from everything behind it.

Still, Alys turned away sharply, her voice low. "Forget it. I shouldn't have expected any of you to understand."

And with that, she stormed off, her boots hitting the cobblestone hard.

Magna watched her go, his usual calm giving way to a soft sigh. He stood. "I'll go."

He caught up to her behind one of the empty training halls. Alys leaned against the wall, trembling slightly, arms wrapped around herself. When she noticed him, she glared.

"Don't," she said quietly. "If you came to lecture me, save it. I've already heard enough."

Magna folded his arms. "You done?"

"...What?"

He took a step closer, his tone sharp but steady. "You're acting like the world ended because you lost. Yeah, we got beaten. So what? You think crying about it's gonna change that?"

Her eyes widened. "You think I'm crying about it?!"

"I think," he interrupted, "you're taking it too personally. Like you're the only one who cares. But guess what — we all fought our hardest. You're not the only one who wanted to win."

Her voice shook. "You don't get it, Magna. You don't know what it's like to fail in front of everyone — to fail after being told your entire life that failure means weakness."

Magna's tone softened, though his expression stayed firm. "Yeah, I do. I grew up with the same father, remember?"

Alys froze. Her breath hitched, eyes widening slightly.

Magna sighed, leaning against the wall beside her. "That man drilled perfection into us until it broke something inside you. You think every loss means you're worthless, but it doesn't. Losing doesn't define you — giving up does."

Alys' shoulders trembled. "I just… I wanted to make him proud for once."

Magna's voice dropped low, steady. "Then stop trying to impress a ghost and start fighting for yourself. For us. We're your team, not your competition."

There was a long silence. Then, finally, Alys wiped her eyes, whispering, "I hate when you're right."

He smiled faintly. "That's because I always am."

She let out a weak laugh, and Magna ruffled her hair lightly. "Now come on. Let's fix this before Ragnar thinks you've declared war on him."

When they returned, Ragnar and the others were still by the fountain. Ragnar looked up first, expression unreadable.

Alys stopped in front of him, taking a deep breath. "I… overreacted. I'm sorry. I just—"

Ragnar cut her off softly. "You don't need to explain. I get it."

Her eyes flickered with surprise.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you either," Ragnar continued. "You're right — I did joke around more than I should've. But that fight wasn't your fault alone. We win and lose together."

For a moment, Alys just stared — then nodded slowly. "Thanks, Ragnar."

He smiled faintly. "Don't mention it."

Light leaned back, grinning. "Aww, look at that. The great Alys Voldric admitting she's wrong. I never thought I'd live to see it."

Alys glared. "Keep talking, Light, and I'll drown you in your sleep."

The group laughed — real laughter this time. The tension was gone. The loss still stung, but it didn't divide them anymore.

Ragnar leaned against the bench again, smirking. "Alright. Next time, we'll win. No excuses, no freezing up."

Alys smirked back. "You better not joke mid-fight then."

"Deal," Ragnar said, grinning.

And for the first time since their defeat, they all felt like a team again.

---

The moon hung high, pale light spilling through the thin curtains of Yuuki's small room. Books lay scattered across his desk — open to pages on divine hierarchies, mana theory, and old war records. But Yuuki wasn't reading.

He sat there quietly, elbows resting on the desk, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the candle's flickering flame. The silence in the house was heavy — no voices, no noise — just the faint ticking of the wall clock and the sound of his slow breathing.

His mind kept drifting back to everything that happened that day.

Alys' anger. Ragnar's calm but cutting words. Magna trying to hold it all together. Light pretending to laugh it off but clearly feeling the sting too.

Yuuki sighed softly, running a hand through his messy hair.

"They're… really something else, huh?"

He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Guess that's what it means to be friends."

He closed the book gently and leaned back, staring up at the wooden ceiling. His fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt — until the faint, almost invisible mark on his wrist began to glow softly, a pale blue shimmer pulsing beneath his skin.

His expression changed — from calm to uneasy.

He quickly tugged the sleeve back down, covering it, his eyes darting toward the door as if afraid someone might've seen.

"…Not yet," he whispered to himself. "They don't need to know yet."

For a moment, the faint sound of wind outside filled the silence. Then he turned his gaze toward the window — the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.

"Ragnar…" he murmured quietly. "You talk like someone who's seen too much."

A pause. "Maybe that's why… I get it."

His voice was barely a whisper, but his tone carried weight — a kind of quiet understanding forged through pain he never spoke of.

He stood, closing the last book and setting it aside neatly. Then he blew out the candle, the room slipping into soft darkness. Before lying down, he looked out the window one last time — the stars glimmering faintly above the rooftops.

"…We'll win next time," he said under his breath. "All of us. Together."

And as he lay back, the faint blue glow returned beneath his sleeve — pulsing once, twice — before fading again, swallowed by the night.

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