The moon hung high over the Ethereal Range, casting silver light across the jagged peaks. Most of the Heavenly Blade Sect Academy slumbered, its towers dark save for the occasional lantern flickering in the courtyards. Yet for Zeref Ying, sleep refused to come.
He lay on the narrow bed of his new quarters, staring at the ceiling beams above. His mind was restless, replaying the day's events—the grand induction, the duel with Huang Darius, the stares of his peers. He had kept his composure throughout, wearing his mask of calm indifference, but now in the quiet, the weight of everything pressed around him.
The whispers in the academy halls echoed in his memory:
Who is he? Why does he carry himself like that? Did you see how he deflected that strike?
Zeref closed his eyes briefly. None of it mattered. Their voices, their suspicions—fleeting shadows. But the unease gnawed at him, and he knew he could not remain still.
Rising silently, he pulled on his dark cloak. His movements were fluid, precise, without wasted sound. He stepped out into the corridor, his footsteps so light they did not disturb even the dust motes drifting in the torchlight.
The academy's grounds were vast, sprawling across terraces carved into the mountain itself. Tonight, all was hushed. Only the faint glow of lanterns guided the stone paths, and the cool wind that swept down from the peaks carried the fragrance of pine and the distant tang of snow.
Zeref passed through the outer gates without pause. He had already memorized the patrols of the night guards. His instincts guided him toward the shadowed path that led away from the training fields, past terraced gardens, into the woods that embraced the mountain's base.
Few ventured there at night. Instructors spoke often of roaming spirit beasts, of sudden mist that could swallow travelers whole, of roots that shifted like serpents beneath the unwary. But Zeref felt no fear. He moved as if the forest itself had called to him.
The trees rose tall and ancient, their trunks wide enough that three men could not encircle one. Their branches knotted above, allowing only fractured streams of moonlight to slip through. The air was damp, heavy with the earthy musk of moss, and the sound of night insects created a soft hum beneath the silence.
Zeref walked deeper, his senses sharp. He could feel the ebb and flow of qi in the woods—subtle eddies of energy where the roots drew life from the soil. The forest was alive, not merely with beasts but with the pulse of something older, wilder.
Then he heard it—the faint murmur of falling water.
At first it was only a whisper in the distance, drowned by the rustling leaves. But step by step, the sound grew stronger, surer, until it rolled like a deep chant through the woods. Drawn by instinct, Zeref followed.
The path narrowed, sloping gently downward. Moss coated the stones, and luminous fungi clung to the trunks of trees, glowing faintly blue in the shadows. The further he went, the sharper the air became, cool and tinged with moisture.
Finally, the trees parted.
Before him stretched a hidden glade, as though the mountain itself had opened its heart. From a high cliff, a waterfall cascaded in silver torrents, crashing into a pool below. Mist rose into the air, catching the moonlight in a shimmering veil. The entire glade glowed softly, like a realm untouched by time.
Zeref paused at the edge of the pool. The water's surface was smooth, reflecting the heavens so perfectly it seemed as though the stars themselves had descended to rest within its depths. The roar of the falls filled the air, but beneath it lingered an uncanny stillness, a silence that pressed against the skin.
And then he noticed—he was not alone.
Across the pool, half-veiled by mist, a figure stood.
Slender. Still. As if she had stepped out of the waterfall itself. Her long robes flowed lightly in the breeze, pale silk trailing across the stones like drifting moonlight. Her hair, black as midnight, spilled down her back in a river of shadows, glinting faintly where droplets of water touched it.
For a heartbeat, Zeref's breath caught.
The figure did not turn. She faced the waterfall, motionless, her hand raised slightly as though communing with it. The crashing water shifted, subtly, unnaturally—its spray bent around her, as if the very elements acknowledged her presence.
Zeref's eyes narrowed. This was no ordinary student.
Her presence was elusive yet powerful, resonating faintly like the pulse of hidden Aetherion fragments buried beneath the world. It was not overwhelming, not sharp, but subtle—an aura woven seamlessly into the night. Dangerous. Enigmatic.
He stepped forward soundlessly, though the mist wrapped around him like a warning. Something within him urged caution.
The figure moved, her hand lowering to her side. The waterfall resumed its natural rhythm, as though nothing had changed. Yet Zeref had seen it, however brief—the undeniable sign of control.
Who was she?
He considered speaking, breaking the silence with a demand for her identity. But the instinct that had guided him into the forest now urged restraint. Some encounters, he felt, were not meant to be forced.
The figure tilted her head slightly, as though sensing his presence. For the first time, she turned.
Her face was obscured by the mist, only the outline of her features visible. But her eyes… her eyes caught his across the pool. Clear. Sharp. Unreadable. They lingered on him for the span of a breath, then softened—faintly, almost imperceptibly.
Zeref felt something stir within him, a thread pulled taut by unseen hands. Recognition, though they had never met. A bond that did not yet exist, yet was inevitable.
And then—just as quickly—it ended.
The figure stepped back into the shadows of the trees, her silhouette dissolving into the night as if she had never been there at all.
Zeref remained at the water's edge, the roar of the falls filling the silence. He did not chase her. He knew he would not find her if he did. The forest itself seemed to shield her, cloaking her trail in silence.
He gazed into the pool, his reflection fractured by ripples. His mind was calm, yet beneath it curiosity flickered. Whoever she was, she carried a weight, a purpose that set her apart. Their paths would cross again—of that he was certain.
The academy's bells tolled faintly in the distance, marking the hour before dawn. Slowly, Zeref turned, his cloak brushing the moss as he began the return journey.
Yet behind him, in the shadows beyond the waterfall, the figure lingered once more.
Unseen. Silent. Watching his retreating form with unreadable eyes.
She did not move until he had disappeared into the trees. Only then did she turn back to the falls, her expression hidden, her presence melting once more into the silver mist.
The stars above flared brighter, as though they too bore witness to the first fragile thread of destiny binding them together.
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To be continued...