The morning sun stretched long shadows across the academy's ancient sparring grounds, its pale gold brushing over weathered tiles still warm from Aevion's footsteps. A thin veil of mist curled along the open corridors—rising, then vanishing like memory against sunlit stone.
Aevion walked quietly.
His muscles ached pleasantly from the long training session, but his mind was clear. At peace.
Nyxara rested comfortably around his shoulders, her scaled body relaxed, her warmth threading through the back of his neck and collarbone. Her breathing was light, steady. She was quiet as always—her head resting lightly near his jaw, her long tail coiled gently across his back.
They'd trained hard.
She was learning faster than instinct should allow—her movement sharper, her strikes cleaner, more fluid. Even without words, her intention had become easy to read through the way her claws extended, how her tail swung behind her to balance a feint, how she'd start circling tighter if she wanted to push him into movement.
Sparring with her felt like dancing with a storm held just beneath the surface—measured, wild, yet controlled.
Now, the wind rustled through a line of hanging vines just past the outer walk. Distant chatter echoed from deeper within the academy—students moving between classes, professors discussing schedules, low conversations layered like ambient noise.
Aevion turned a corner of the stone walkway and spotted Yui standing beneath the high archway ahead, brushing off her uniform sleeves. She didn't notice him at first. Her expression was distracted, caught between alertness and thought. The sun lit the edges of her hair as she turned her head.
"Aevion," she called, waving lightly as he approached. "How long were you out there?"
"Since first bell," he replied.
Yui raised a brow. "You and her again?"
Aevion didn't answer. He just nodded slightly, reaching up to adjust Nyxara's position on his shoulders. She shifted her head just a little in response, curling back around his neck more snugly.
They began walking together, their footsteps soft against the ancient stone, passing between the columns as rays of warm light striped the ground. Birds fluttered between the upper balconies. A few students passed with quiet glances, giving the group a wide berth.
Yui glanced sideways. "You look like you didn't lose this time."
Aevion smirked faintly. "She's getting faster."
"I told you—she's a monster in disguise."
A silence passed between them—light, comfortable. The kind that didn't need to be filled.
And then—
"Daddy."
The word wasn't shouted.
It wasn't whispered.
It just… happened.
Soft, natural. Perfectly placed between the passing wind and the stretch of sunlit silence.
Aevion slowed mid-step. His heart didn't lurch—but it did lift, quietly.
He turned his head slightly. Nyxara's snout was still nestled against his collarbone. Her eyes were calm. Not wide with effort. Not confused or bashful.
Just… normal.
She'd spoken like she always had.
Like she'd never needed to wait.
"…I'm hungry," she added, her voice clear and composed—beautiful in an elegant, instinctive way. Smooth like polished stone, but with the warm cadence of something young. Not childish. Not dramatic.
Just... hers.
Aevion's lips parted with the beginnings of a smile—genuine, content, warm in a way that started from the chest and spread outward, unnoticed.
Yui had stopped walking.
She stared, one brow slightly lifted.
"…That was her?" she asked after a beat.
Aevion nodded, brushing a thumb over Nyxara's tail wrapped around his front.
Yui blinked once. "You didn't tell me she could talk."
"She couldn't."
Nyxara shifted her head lazily. "I just didn't want to."
Yui gave a soft, amused exhale. "Well, alright then."
They continued walking. No questions. No weighty reactions. No stilted praise or exaggerated awe.
Aevion simply felt her presence now—not just her body around his neck, but her voice still lingering in the air, still echoing faintly against the insides of his ribs.
She called him Daddy.
And that was enough to matter.
They passed beneath one of the academy's high glass bridges, where Nexis light shimmered like falling threads. The quiet grew fuller.
"I want meat," Nyxara added suddenly.
Yui covered a laugh.
Aevion smiled again, slower this time.
"I'll find you something."
"Now?"
"Yes," he said, adjusting his path toward the dining hall without missing a step.
She hummed. Not out of protest. Just in anticipation.
And somewhere, in that perfect silence between sun and stone, a new shape of peace formed—one without explanation, one without force. Just a voice. Just a word.
Just Daddy.
And nothing else needed to be said.
The sparring ground behind them had quieted, holding only the lingering shimmer of spent mana and the dust kicked up by vanished movements. Footsteps now echoed across polished stone, the aftermath of a clash that had meant more than either of them had said aloud.
Aevion walked at an unhurried pace, his silver hair drifting with the breeze, the warmth of day glinting faintly along the sharp edges of his robes. Balanced on his shoulder and coiled partly around his neck was a small, radiant creature—two feet in length, delicate, softly glowing.
Nyxara.
She was awake. Pink eyes half-lidded in quiet thought, her tiny head resting gently against the side of Aevion's jaw. Her scaled body shimmered with hues of white and gentle violet, a low, pulsing light breathing beneath her skin with each breath she took. Students scattered along the path toward the academy cafeteria slowed, halted, stared. Some whispered. Others stopped entirely.
"Is that…?"
"A real dragon…?"
"No, that's… that's not possible."
"She's alive…? That's not a construct?"
They watched from corners and behind pillars, faces caught between awe and caution. Nyxara made no sound—she didn't need to. Her mere presence silenced even the boldest stares.
Yui walked a step beside Aevion, hands clasped lightly behind her back, her gaze flicking toward the watching students with quiet warning. Her face held no expression, but her aura didn't need one—no one dared approach.
"Let's go get Nyxara some food," Aevion said softly.
Yui gave a small nod and fell into step beside him.
The halls curved toward the mess wing, their carved walls shifting into richer stone, lit with floating flame orbs and enchanted silver veining that pulsed when passed by strong magic. The path ahead opened into the academy's grand dining atrium—vaulted ceilings and hovering trays, walls inlaid with aetheric murals of past worldscapes, and the distant humming of spells keeping the aromas sealed to each quadrant.
They entered.
And silence fell like a dropped bell.
Hundreds of students sat or moved between tables, laughter and magic-filled conversation suspended in the air. But all of it froze the moment Nyxara was seen. One of the trays floating by tilted slightly, spilling crimson broth over its edge as the caster behind it failed to maintain focus. Someone dropped their fork. Another stumbled backward into their chair.
Aevion didn't notice. Or rather—he noticed, but gave it no thought.
He stepped forward with the ease of moonlight touching water and approached the butcher's wing—a station reserved for rare meat, harvested from interdimensional creatures and sacred beasts. The server behind the obsidian-slab counter stared at Nyxara, mouth half-open.
Aevion pointed once. "That one."
The man stammered a bit before handing him a dish of rich, still-steaming meat—charred just enough to awaken the essence locked inside.
They sat near the wide arched window, where the sky had begun to deepen into hues of amethyst and quiet dusk. Aevion placed the plate in front of Nyxara. She stirred lightly and, with dainty movements, tore into the meal. Her eating was efficient—graceful in a way that no animal had any right to be.
Her presence never felt juvenile.
Only ancient.
Yui sat across from Aevion, resting her chin in one hand, quietly watching the girl with a mix of curiosity and something softer, more distant. Neither of them said anything for a time.
Then, softly—without looking up—Aevion said, "I'm planning to leave the academy."
Yui raised an eyebrow. "You've barely stayed."
"I wasn't meant to stay long," he said. His fingers tapped gently against the glass tabletop. "When I sealed the Library of the End… something stirred."
He paused.
"I saw it. Or rather, it let me see it. A place… past light. Past knowledge. The Celestial Realm."
Now Yui turned fully toward him, her expression sharpened by attention.
"You mean it showed itself?" she asked.
"It couldn't be known. Not truly. Not by any mind born of this world," he replied. "But when the final lock closed, when the Library's will surrendered, something opened."
"And you want to go there?" Yui's tone wasn't incredulous—it was interested. Analytical.
Aevion gave the smallest nod. "It's not curiosity. It's a summons."
The word was heavy—like a truth not yet spoken aloud.
Nyxara finished her meal and curled against him again, purring faintly. Her eyes met his.
"Daddy…" she murmured.
It was the only word she gave, but in it was the same energy that stirred the bones of mountains and oceans before names were born.
Then—"More," she added, softly, in the same breath. "Meat."
Yui blinked.
For the first time in a long while, Aevion laughed—quiet, low in his chest. Not mocking. Just… real.
He stood, lifting Nyxara lightly with one arm and heading back to the counter.
And all around them, the world kept staring—frozen before a mystery that did not belong here, yet walked through it as though it always had.