Two boys stood at the far end of the academy's courtyard, their voices tense and urgent despite the calm of the morning.
They both wore the official academy uniform: dark navy coats with silver trim, fitted vests beneath, and long white sashes tied at the waist. The insignia of their year glinted on their collars, catching the light. Noah's coat was slightly wrinkled from movement. Cael's was immaculate.
"I'm telling you, Cael, we have to act now," Noah said, his voice sharp as he stepped closer. "You didn't want to go to the auction, fine—but then we need to stop this some other way. You know what'll happen if we don't."
Saphielle stood nearby, unseen, unable to move or speak—trapped within the memory like a phantom.
'So his name is Cael… I've never seen him before, not once in two years at the academy. Is he some kind of transfer student?'
