"You want to go teach students at that lousy school? What's gotten into you, Zauren?"
"Sir, our forces are getting smaller by the day. I want to confirm for myself that the academy is providing adequate training to the younger generation; we may need them sooner than we had hoped."
"Is that truly the reason? Why the sudden concern?"
"...Allow me this request, sir. I don't want to ask again."
"Threatening now, are we? Very well, you may go. But don't go poking your head where you're not supposed to."
I bowed slightly. "Sir."
I hadn't expected the king to comply, yet here I was — standing at Concordia Academy's entrance. The front gate was large, behind it stood a tall archaic building. Compared to the capital and outer cities, it stood out like a sore thumb. The director greeted me alongside his assistants, standing proudly in front of the statue of The Faceless man. Groups of students gathered in the courtyard, mumbling to themselves as they watched what was happening.
"Why, Sir Zauren! It's an honor to have you here," the director began. "We are eager to see just how much our students can progress under the direction of an esteemed Invoker such as yourself. Please, this way."
We were greeted by a large door and entered the academy's halls. The director was an older man with no actual reputation. He had been sent here to play the role of head of the school — a puppet for the king and his government, the ones truly managing what happens within these halls. The director was aware of this fact, so he greeted me to put on airs for the passerby. I paid no effort to help with his little show, I was merely being shown to my new office.
He played his part well. A puppet with a title, placed here by the king. That's how he ruled — with veiled strings and forgotten favors. His power didn't speak loudly to his subjects. Rather, it was watching.
When we arrived, the door had already been opened. Judging by the small size, it probably hadn't been used much and had only been cleaned at the last minute. I entered the study and the director quickly took his leave. The office was small — a desk sat in the middle with a large window behind it. The view overlooked a garden of flowers, where the dark sky contrasted the vibrant colors. A small but impressive sight. I sat down in the chair beside the study's entrance, taking a moment to organize my thoughts.
A strange sense of nostalgia came over me. There was a still air in the room under the low ceiling — but it felt familiar. The seat I was in felt oddly uncomfortable, so I moved over to the one near the window. Still, something felt out of place. Missing.
There wasn't time to worry about that now. Time's limited, and I need to make it count while I'm here. The tip I received said that what I'm looking for is in this academy. That day… why couldn't I forget about it? I don't trust this place. I'll need to tread carefully. I'd need to come up with a more specific plan later. For now, I made my way to the academy's gymnasium.
Today's class was with the underclassmen. Because of their young age, they rarely get real combat experience at Concordia. The academy holds a special training program for when they're older — hiring a group of professional Invokers to enter an inactive domain with the students. I was in charge of the program this year… and her.
There she was, across the hall closing the door of her office — Lysandra. She noticed me and smiled. The distance between us closed.
"Zauren… it's been a long time," she began. "You seem well."
Her voice sounded just like I remembered —soft, welcoming. I tried to match hers. "It has, it's good to see you again — Lysandra. Are you headed to your class?"
"I am," she replied. "I assume you're going to yours?"
"It's strange," I said. "Even if it's only temporary, becoming an instructor wasn't something I expected."
She laughed quietly, and began walking down the hall. "Why did you become one, anyway? You used to hate classrooms."
"Still do," I said, then stopped myself. The smile on her lips was enough to tell me that she remembered more than that. We walked silently until we reached her lecture room.
"You said you didn't expect to be here," she said before entering. "But maybe some places call us back when the time is right. Even when you don't expect it."
My eyes rested on hers for a moment. "Call us back, huh?"
She tilted her head in confusion. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I replied. "Forgive me, I'll be going now."
She nodded, and I walked away. Part of me wanted to tell her the truth — to tell her why I was here. But… I didn't want to drag her down with me.
When I arrived at the gymnasium, all the students had already gathered and changed. I began right away.
The room echoed with the sounds of weapons and abilities manifesting. Lines of students stood before me, split into pairs and sparring. Their forms were sloppy and their energy imprecise.
"Stop," I ordered. My voice cut through the room and the students froze. I stepped forward. "None of you are invoking your Echoes — you're begging for it."
A flicker of confusion crossed their faces. I pointed to one of the boys closest to me. "You. Call out your Echo."
The student hesitated, but raised his hand. Flames circled his fingers, small and weak. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. "That wouldn't damage a small animal. Let alone a monster in the domains."
A slight smile crept onto my face. Some students look surprised that I wasn't angry. Maybe I should've been. But it felt like I was looking at my younger self — struggling, failing. No one can grow if they're constantly hammered down, but right now, they need a taste of defeat. I spent the rest of the class pushing the kids further than they've probably ever experienced.
"You're all here to become Invokers," I continued, pacing around the students. "Not performers. Not fakes. If you don't get strong, you'll never find out who you are."
A girl in the back muttered something under her breath. I turned to her. "Do you disagree?"
"No, sir. Just tired," she said quietly.
"Good," I replied. "Because fatigue is proof you're pushing your limits. You'll fall, further down than you've ever fallen. And when you crawl back up, that's where you'll find strength."
I paused. Let the energy settle. Then gestured again. "That's enough for now. Next time, it'll be even harder."
They were exhausted, but they didn't complain. The war wasn't just the army's problem — it was the entire kingdom's. They knew that they needed to get stronger. I headed back to my office quickly. Even before classes began, I was aware that a professional Invoker's abilities, let alone mine, far exceeded those of a student's. I knew that, but…
"Not enough…" I whispered to the ceiling.
For such a reputable academy, the students were worse than I'd imagined. It may very well be my skewed sense of strength. After having spent so much time fighting against the monsters in the domains, my standards might be too high. Still, that didn't matter now. There's no benefit in staying weak. If anyone was going to get those students to evolve, it was me. I hoped that the upperclassmen tomorrow would prove their worth.
I glanced over at the time. Once classes were over, how I spent the rest of the day was my choice. Being a combat instructor, I didn't feel the need to prepare lessons for my students, so I decided to explore the academy.
The campus stretched wide — shared housing, a shopping district, academic halls — all carved into the cliffside like relics from another era, now powered by spiritual light. The gymnasium was located between the residential and academic buildings for easy access to both instructors and students.
By the time I arrived at the main hall, lectures were already over and the majority of students had already left. On my way to the library, I spotted a tall young man with blonde hair wiping down the chalkboard of a lecture room — the class president. I remembered him giving a speech during the entrance ceremony. This time, however, he looked nothing like the charming boy from that day.
"Who does she think I am…" he was muttering something under his breath when he suddenly looked up and saw me. I acted as if I didn't notice him and continued toward the library; clearly there was something upsetting him.
When I arrived, the student staff were finishing their cleaning — dusting shelves, stacking returned books. There weren't many students here studying this early in the semester. A peaceful atmosphere.
Thud!
A loud sound startled me — some books had fallen nearby. The staff didn't seem to notice, so I approached the sound to investigate. But as I stepped closer, something made my body tense. A presence — brief, but sharp. Like someone was there, watching for a moment, only to vanish before I could fully sense them. Too fast. I scanned the area, but found nothing.
A female student was reaching for a book on the top shelf. Her long brown hair obscured her face. As to not startle her, I quietly walked over. That's when I saw it. The book was glowing — a dark light enveloped the cover.
My body froze.
No… it shouldn't be here. My hand rose above hers, and I grabbed the book.
"Is this the one you want?" I asked, offering it to her.
"Oh, yes, that's it. Thank you–" She turned and froze. "Oh! Sir Zauren! I apologize, I didn't notice it was you…"
I recognized her — those blue eyes. The girl I locked eyes with yesterday after the entrance ceremony. Our gazes once again met.
"Is this the book you were reaching for?" I repeated, watching her reaction closely. My hold on the cover tightened.
"Yes, thank you very much," she answered, taking it from my hands. "Oh, and… I'm Alira, one of your new students for your class starting tomorrow."
"I see. Well then," I said, ending the conversation.
I quickly exited the library, watching from the window near the entrance. The king ordered that book destroyed years ago. I burned it to the ground.
So why was it here?
Was this what the tip meant?
More importantly, why was she so fixated on getting her hands on it?
My breath caught slightly when I glanced over again, trying to see what she would do. That's when I noticed something — two tomes sat on her desk. Both glowing darkly. Both unmistakable.
"There's another?" I whispered to myself, unable to hide my shock.
I was under the assumption that there was only one of those books in existence. If the king had known about a second, he would have ordered it destroyed as well. I'll need to question her about them. After some time, she packed both books in her bag and left the library.
I followed, keeping my distance. She didn't carry herself like someone chasing idle curiosity. It felt like hunger — grief. She boarded a train leaving the campus —strange, considering students are supposed to live in shared housing until their final year.
"So she's a third-year…" I muttered.
Then something else occurred to me. During our exchange… she never gave her last name.
Alira.
That was all she said. At Concordia, full introductions were expected. Formal etiquette dictated that new students state their full names when addressing staff or faculty. It was an ingrained rule. I replayed her voice in my head — searching for hesitation or maybe a stumble. But it didn't feel like she slipped. It wasn't unusual for a student to forget. But in her case, it felt like a choice.
There were a few circumstances where students wouldn't be registered under a full name — rare exceptions, usually to protect children of influential families. Or…
My jaw clenched. What if the records weren't altered… if the records didn't have a last name to give. I didn't know who she really was. But I began to feel nervous at the thought that another one might be stepping into the light.
I followed her off the train, watching as she made her way home. The neighborhood was quiet… I put more distance between us as she neared her destination, not wanting to look like a stalker. I thought that was the best choice. But if I noticed the third party sooner, I wouldn't have made such a careless mistake.
"Aaaah!"
A scream tore through the quiet night like a knife through glass. I looked toward the direction it came from. Alira was on the ground, and a masked figure stood over her.
"Shit-!"
My body reacted on instinct — recognizing the familiar sensation of flames engulfing my arms, I hurled a blaze at the feet of the masked figure, closing the distance and being careful as to not hit the girl.
"Are you okay?" I asked, lowering my gaze to her.
She didn't take my hand, but pointed behind me. "Yes, but look, they're getting away!"
I looked up — the masked figure was gone. Too fast. Not natural. Since they decided to run at the sight of me, it was likely they were aware of who I was. I could've chased them. But I didn't. Alira took priority.
"It's fine. Can you stand?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm not hurt. Thank you for saving me…" she answered warily, a suspicious look on her face.
I tensed up slightly. "L-listen, I know that person. They've been causing trouble for women, attacking them and taking their belongings. I didn't expect you to get caught up in it too."
A lie — it was pure luck that she was attacked while I was nearby. But it seemed to ease her suspicion a bit. That's when I noticed, however, that her bag wasn't on her person anymore.
"Where-" I caught myself. Asking directly about the books would only make me look worse. But they were gone. The attacker must've stolen them. Were they worth the trouble? If they were the same as the one I burned, then maybe…
"Ahem. Where were you headed so late on your own? You left the library earlier, but you didn't head home?" I asked.
"I apologize, Sir Zauren," she replied. "I'm actually a third year student, and I don't live in shared housing anymore. I was returning to my apartment in this neighborhood."
I nodded and pretended to ease off. But this neighborhood — it was for scholarship students. My concern from earlier lingered in my mind.
"You're a scholarship student?" I asked. It wasn't the right moment, but I needed to know.
"I am…" she answered. "I came here from an orphanage in the capital."
An orphanage? Then she wasn't the daughter of a noble house, nor was she one of the king's hidden heirs. If she's a third-year scholarship student… then Lysandra would know her. She oversees the initiative programs herself. That would mean the records weren't altered — and that Alira was all her name ever was.
Someone made sure she'd enter this world without a past. That's not a mistake. It was a message, and I wanted to know who sent it. But I needed to shift the focus, ease her guard completely.
"I see. Forgive me for being presumptuous," I said, stepping past her. "Take care that you're not out alone until the attacker is caught."
She hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Sir Zauren… why were you following them? Isn't that law enforcement's job?"
Damn. She was right; there was no reason for me to be doing the officer's jobs. I needed to think of something quick.
"Are they truly attacking women?" her tone shifted, more certain. "Their goal…was to take the books I had, right? That's why you also followed me – to question me about them."
She was a cunning girl, seeing right through me. I had no reason to lie anymore.
"...You're half right," I answered. "I was hoping to ask you about those books. Still, I don't know anything about who attacked you, or why. The reason is likely what you said."
"I knew it!" she said, almost too eagerly.
"What?" I frowned. "You heard me, right?"
"Ah, sorry, yes — I did. I just-" she hesitated again, rubbing her arm.
"Then what exactly did you sound so excited for?" I hardened my tone, hoping to intimidate her into answering.
"Oh well, that's…" she paused. "I had a feeling. About the books. That no one was supposed to see what's inside."
My eyes narrowed. "Why would you think that?"
She didn't flinch. Her voice was calm, her blue gaze locked with mine. For a moment, the air between us shifted — an ominous feeling brushed against my instincts. It was the same as when I stood before the king, an air that would suffocate any ordinary person. But hers was subtler, quieter, as if she didn't even know she carried it. It stirred something long-dormant within my being — something that warned me there was something unique about her. Something about her energy… a thread too familiar. A thread I hadn't felt since kneeling before the king, yet it felt more fierce. For the first time, I felt intimidated by another.
She said it like it was obvious. Like it was hers. And for the first time, I felt the king's fears weren't misplaced.
"Because those books…" she took a step forward. "They contain the truth of our world, don't they?"