"Who are you? What business do you have here?"
The girl advanced steadily, three daggers poised in her right hand, ready to be thrown.
Dieora stepped back cautiously, both hands raised in surrender.
"Can't we talk this through? I was sent here… by someone."
The girl froze, lowering her arm ever so slightly.
"Sent by someone, you say?"
Dieora quickly pulled out the worn parchment and held it out for her to see.
"This is the proof. You can read it yourself."
She snatched the paper, scanning each line carefully, glancing at him now and then before returning to the words.
"I still don't trust you completely, but I suppose you don't seem suspicious." She sheathed her blades.
"Follow me," she said curtly, turning on her heel and pushing open the massive gate.
Dieora trailed behind, eyes darting about. The inside was eerily silent. Not a single student in sight.
"By the way, what's your name?" she asked without looking back, her stride unbroken.
"Dieora," he answered simply.
Her hand reached for a door handle. She paused briefly and glanced at him.
"My name is Lucia Veldia."
They entered. Each step Dieora took left a wet trail on the floor from the rain outside. Yet, a mop appeared out of nowhere, swiftly erasing the traces.
"is this normal here?" Dieora pointed at the mop, which obediently followed him around.
"Ignore it," Lucia said flatly.
Lucia knocked three times on a door: the teacher's office. A voice from within called for them to enter. They stepped inside, the mop still trailing faithfully.
"Who is this you've brought, Lucia?" asked the man behind a desk piled with papers.
"Good evening, Master Dermentian. Forgive the intrusion." Lucia bowed her head.
"He claims he was sent here by someone."
Dermentian, hand pressed to his temple, turned to see Dieora.
"Sent by someone, you say?"
"Yes, sir," Lucia answered.
Dermentian exhaled heavily, rose, and extended his hand toward her.
"Did you receive a letter?"
Without hesitation, Lucia handed him the parchment. Dermentian examined it line by line, verifying its authenticity.
"So… you are this 'Dieora'?" His sharp gaze made the boy's nerves tighten.
"That's correct," Dieora admitted.
Dermentian sat back down, immediately absorbed again in his mountain of documents.
"Lucia, if I recall, there's an empty room on the second floor—number ten. Take him there." He handed her a key.
Lucia understood at once. She nodded, took the key, and lea lead Dieora out. The mop followed faithfully.
"I can't help but wonder," Dieora said, glancing down each corridor as they passed locked doors. "Why is there not a single student here? I heard this was supposed to be a magic academy."
"The demons have returned," Lucia answered. "Some students went back to their families. Others left to fight alongside the kingdom." She unlocked the designated door.
Turning, she handed him the key. "This is yours. You can rest here tonight. There are spare clothes inside."
"You're not going home?" Dieora asked, accepting the key.
"I have no home. No family. I can't even remember my mother's face."
The sudden weight of her words pressed on him, and Dieora felt uneasy.
"Anyway, you should wake at seven tomorrow morning. Dermentian has something to discuss with you." Without waiting for a reply, Lucia turned and left. The mop followed her obediently.
Dieora watched until she vanished from view, then entered the room, locked the door, and opened the wardrobe. His wet clothes chilled him to the bone.
The ticking of a clock filled the silence as he changed. A single candle glowed on the bedside table, casting a dim light across the tidy bed, a glowing orb, and a red square carpet at the center of the room.
Dieora removed his necklace. The crystal shimmered with a radiant green light.
"What secret do you hold? Why are you so important… that even the demons desire your destruction?"
He lay down on the soft bed, thoughts drifting to his family, worry gnawing at him. Could the knight truly keep his promise?
Exhaustion weighed him down, body and soul alike, until sleep claimed him.
***
He awoke in a strange, desolate place—nothing but rolling smoke all around.
"Dieora…"
He spun, scanning the empty fog.
"Who's there?" His fists clenched, confusion sharpening into vigilance.
"Dieora…" the voice echoed again, nearer, resonant.
Before him, the smoke thickened and then burst outward in a gust. Shielding his face, he looked up to see a chained figure descend. Wings stretched from its back, glorious yet weakened.
"An… angel?" Dieora's breath caught in disbelief.
"Your time is short, young one," the being rasped, every word strained with pain.
"A prophecy… our revival lies in your hands."
"Free us… chosen one."
The angel's form faded, swallowed by smoke.
"Wait!" But it was too late—the vision was gone.
Dieora's eyes snapped open. Morning light streamed in.
"…A dream?"
A knock came at the door—three times. Lucia's voice called him.
"Dermentian is waiting."
"Give me five minutes," Dieora replied. He dressed quickly in the academy's uniform and stepped out.
"You look the part now," Lucia remarked. "Like a true student of Luiotra Academy."
The black robe, white shirt, dark trousers, and boots fit him perfectly. A golden eagle badge marked him as one of their own.
"Strange… it fits me so well," he muttered.
They walked through the now-bustling halls. Morning had brought life back to the academy.
"Seems like they've returned," Dieora observed, watching students rushing about.
"The demons were driven back last night," Lucia explained.
"Was it that mysterious knight?" Dieora wondered silently, folding his arms.
"We're here."
They entered Dermentian's office once more.
"That uniform suits you," Dermentian said with a faint smile. "You're already like one of us."
"Dieora, I've received word—you're to begin your studies here."
"But… without a guardian, how can I—?"
"The one who sent you will act as your guardian."
Dieora blinked. "You mean… the knight from last night?"
Dermentian nodded.
"Then… does that mean I'm officially a student of Luiotra Academy?"
"Yes. Lucia will show you around. Make yourself at home here."
Relieved, Dieora followed as Lucia guided him out again. Her silver hair caught the morning light as it flowed behind her.
They reached the courtyard fountain, where two grand statues stood side by side.
"This academy has stood for a thousand years," Lucia said softly. "And it was founded by these two."
Dieora drew closer. The stone figures radiated timeless strength, refusing to yield to age.
"They were the heroes who once drove the demons from this world after the angels' fall."
She brushed her hand against the carved bricks surrounding the statues. Dieora stepped up beside her. As his hand touched the stone, his crystal flared brightly.
"Zhypon's Crystal?" Lucia gasped.
"You know something about it?" Dieora asked, startled.
"I'm not certain. Only that it's said to be a relic from two thousand years ago."
Suddenly, the statues glowed. Words appeared upon the stone, etched in radiant light.
"O chosen ones, save this world. The fate of all rests in your hands."
Dieora read the first line aloud, his heart racing.