They ran. Down a long corridor. Past glowing crystal sconces, embedded every few meters along the stone walls.
"You know, Danzel. I think that woman named Halena earlier was kind. At the very least, you should've said thank you before leaving," Elio cut in while running.
"Yep. Always stiff." Elio chuckled lightly, starting to watch his footing on the spiraling staircase.
"Loudmouth, idiot." Danzel didn't look back.
Elio laughed.
"Shut up! I might explode if this keeps up!"
"Huh?! You can explode? How?!" Elio's face lit up with surprise, his voice full of excitement.
"Enough! Be quiet!"
"Hey! Tell me how to explode!"
"HAH!" Danzel yanked Elio by the arm, too exhausted to keep talking.
By now, Elio had lost track of how many minutes he'd been running after Danzel. They stopped right in front of a classroom with its door closed. A plaque beside it read J–XII.
"This the class?" Elio asked.
"Seems like it," Danzel replied, reaching for the doorknob. But a second before his hand touched it, Elio had already grabbed it first.
"You might get stage fright if you do it alone," Elio said, wearing a calm smile.
Danzel let out a faint sigh. "Do whatever you want."
They both held the same handle and opened the door together. And—
"Huh?"
The two of them exchanged looks, sharing the exact same expression of surprise. Standing at the front of the classroom was a tall man with light blue hair.
Elio tilted his head. "You are … who, exactly?"
If Danzel weren't Danzel, he might have smacked Elio on the head right then and there. Hard enough to leave a bump for a week.
The opening door and the words spoken naturally drew the attention of the new students inside. Whispers spread. Some of the twenty-three students seated there wore shocked expressions.
"Wasn't that the intruder earlier?"
"Why's he here?"
"How would I know."
Danzel stood frozen. They'd just finished dealing with one problem—now another one appeared.
The bespectacled man finally spoke. "Come in. Don't be late to learning the rules here as well."
Elio rolled his tongue inside his mouth, then strode in without a word, looking for an empty desk. He seemed to forget entirely about Danzel, who was still standing at the doorway, drowned in nerves and wandering thoughts.
"Who told you to sit?" The voice boomed. "I only told you to come in."
Some students flinched. Others didn't. Elio was one of the latter. He casually turned back, frowning slightly.
"You told me to come in. And I did."
"There was no order forbidding me from sitting."
Several students stared at him oddly.
Silence crept in, lingering for over a minute. Finally, Elio lazily rolled his eyes, stood, and walked back to face the man.
"Introduce your name first. Then I'll allow you to sit."
"That's all?" Elio said flatly, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.
"Either one of you. Whoever wants to introduce themselves first," the man added.
"Danzel first," Elio nudged him.
"No need for me to introduce myself, right?" Elio teased. The teasing sparked a small flame of courage inside Danzel.
"Danzel. My name is Danzel," he said quietly.
The man nodded. "Alright. Sit."
Danzel let out a breath of relief and sat at the nearest desk. He hadn't expected to speak in front of so many people, especially in such an unlucky situation.
"You. Next."
"Arthelio. Just Elio it's fine," Elio said briefly, clearly eager to sit anywhere that would accept him.
The light-blue-haired man narrowed his eyes slightly. His arms, previously crossed, dropped to his sides.
"Could you demonstrate a bit of ether that you can use, Elio?" he asked flatly—just like his voice.
The students' shock doubled. What was going on? They'd all introduced themselves earlier, but none of them like this.
Danzel wasn't in the mood to watch. He was still busy stabilizing his mental state.
Splash
Elio formed a needle-shaped whirl of water spinning rapidly above his palm. "Hmm?" He gestured toward the man.
"Am I allowed to sit now, Professor?" Elio asked.
The man—now called Professor—let out a deliberate sigh, once again. "Go ahead."
Elio grinned. "Alright, thank you."
For a moment, Elio felt countless eyes on him—except Danzel, who was still dealing with his shrinking nerves. But then—
Elio noticed it. His gaze met that of a girl. Dark blue eyes, deep like a lake—perhaps similar to his own. They stared at each other for less than ten seconds before the girl turned away.
Elio fell silent, confused.
"Elio, sit in your seat," the man ordered firmly.
"Yes. Even without you telling me, I was going to," Elio muttered as he sat down at the only empty desk—front row, third from the professor's desk.
"Alright, back to the beginning. I'll introduce myself again. My name is Aakeil. The students here usually call me Professor A."
Elio propped one arm on the desk and rested his head on his palm.
"I'll be responsible for this class until you graduate. So prepare yourselves to be bored of me."
"And today, I'll be reading the Erini Accord. I know you're all already familiar with its contents. I'm merely repeating it."
"First: 'We are not different, we are one.' This means that introducing one's family origin, race, or clan is forbidden—especially in an academic institution." Aakeil raised his index finger to mark number one.
"Now then, does anyone still remember the meaning behind this statement?" he asked, looking around.
Creek…
A girl stood up, raising her right hand. "Yes, Chloe," Aakeil said, turning toward the girl with brown hair loose beneath white flower ornaments.
"In the Erini Accord, Natanoe, the Sovereign established a pact to reduce conflicts among major clans, wars between sub-clans or families. By keeping origins unknown, the likelihood of conflict—especially when someone with influence enters elite circles—can be better controlled," she explained at length.
"10 points for you, Miss," Aakeil replied. Chloe sat back down with a sweet smile, accepting the praise. Her seat was directly in front of Elio.
Aakeil walked to the left. "Natanoe, the Sovereign is the savior of this world. He willingly extended his hand to us, ending all wars thousands of years ago. Because of that, we can live peacefully like this, without large-scale war."
He adjusted his glasses, which had slipped slightly. "To prevent every possible outcome, Natanoe the First—often called the The Goddess of Radiant Wings—created the accord, agreed upon by eight great nations. Natanoe the First and her successors are unlike us. The title of Natanoe has continued to this day. Our world and civilization are now guided by the Sixth Natanoe."
"Professor," a student raised his hand.
"Yes, Lano?" Aakeil responded.
"Thousands of years have passed. And the Natanoe have only reached the sixth generation?" Lano asked from the very back corner. Were they immortal, or what?
Aakeil cleared his throat. "Yes, that's how it is. We determine this by observing who attends the grand council held every ten years. If the one present is no longer the previous Natanoe—or their direct representative—we can conclude that the title has been passed down."
"Thank you. I'll try to understand," Lano said, scratching the back of his head.
"From the First Natanoe to the Sixth, each of their presences brought different impacts and events, across different eras."
"Alright, moving on to the second accord. Does anyone remember it?" Aakeil glanced toward the front rows.
"You. Do you remember it, Miss?" he asked a small girl seated at the very front.
The girl had deep purplish-black hair tied with a plain white ribbon. Dark blue eyes, deep as a lake. She wore a sweet pastel white-and-blue dress.
"The second accord: 'We oppose one another, yet a part of us unites.' There must be a third party—a neutral one—to lead negotiations whenever conflict arises, before determining further action," she said.
Aakeil walked toward the back rows. "Good. 10 points for you. But I hope you can reduce your nervousness, Miss."
"Y-yes," the girl replied, sitting back down.
"As she said, a neutral party is required during conflicts—especially when major nations are involved. Like the first, the second accord exists to prevent war."
"Around twenty thousand years ago, humanity was granted a blessing from nature… an extraordinary ability flowing within the human body, creating miracles we now know as ether."
"Unfortunately, nature did not distribute this ability equally." Aakeil's expression grew more serious. "Some are blessed with cores that absorb vast concentrations of natural energy. Others are not. Some possess stable ether; others unstable. There are countless types of ether in this world. Eventually, those who believed themselves more blessed formed their own groups, separating from those they deemed inferior. Classification."
"Caste and ether levels bred arrogance, greed, and desire—sparking conflict and war everywhere. That reality is why Natanoe the First established the second accord."
"Now, the last one," Aakeil said, turning to a boy with ash-gray hair.
"We are the same. We are one. And always will be," the boy with pitch-black eyes recited with a faint smile.
"The third accord reflects what we are doing right now," Aakeil said, returning to the front. "10 points for you, Savion."
"In essence," Aakeil turned to face the entire class, " Natanoe, the Sovereign hopes for us to stand firm and prepare for every possibility. Educating the younger generation—like you—is part of that preparation."
***
Elio walked lazily, dragging his feet across the floors and past rows of old parchment. He barely paid attention. Class time had been short—just introductions and formalities. They were allowed to explore the academy today. Not tomorrow.
"Danzel," Elio called.
Danzel, walking behind him, only lifted his face briefly.
"That class was boring." The words left Elio's mouth. Danzel simply responded by turning to another parchment display.
Elio sighed in annoyance. He turned around, stopping both himself and Danzel.
"How many times have I told you—don't walk behind me." His expression was serious.
The boy with blood-red hair paused, then stepped forward to stand beside Elio without a word. They continued on, wherever their steps took them.
They didn't stay quiet for long. Elio soon started rambling about all sorts of things. Danzel had no idea where Elio found so many topics in his head.
"You know, Danzel, yesterday I tried to keep a cat. But Tao stopped me. He said the cat would die—that it'd be better off free in nature than suffering in my hands. Isn't he annoying? His words are so cruel," Elio huffed.
"It's reasonable for Tao to say that," Danzel replied.
"HEY!" Elio bristled.
Danzel looked away. "Sorry, but isn't it better in the wild?"
Blue eyes stared into orange ones a little too intently. Elio crossed his arms. "His words have always been sharp. Sharper than Mom's nagging at home."
Whatever the animal, there was no way they wouldn't like Elio… Danzel thought. He knew the person they called "Tao" was just exhausted by Elio's behavior—his words had grown sharp, sometimes even unsettling.
"By the way, where are we going?" Elio asked, turning to Danzel.
Alright. They both stopped. Stared at each other, no agreement in sight.
"I thought you knew where we were going." Elio complained.
"I should be the one saying that! You're the one who dragged me out here!" Danzel snapped.
"Hey! You two!" A boy ran up to them, the look on his face making Elio frown. He was followed by a girl whose hair looked as though it had been brushed with a garden of white roses.
The four of them ended up staring at one another.
"My name's Lano. Just call me Lano," the boy began.
"Well, since your name's Lano, that's why you're called La—"
Slap.
Danzel covered Elio's mouth with one hand, firmly.
"What is it?" Danzel asked flatly.
"Uh—do you want to come with us?" Lano offered.
"Where?" Elio asked, once he could speak again.
"To the cafeteria," the girl beside Lano answered kindly. Elio looked her up and down as if examining her. She laughed softly at his scrutiny.
"I'm Chloe. I sit in front of you."
"Oh. Elio," he introduced himself. "And that's Danzel. He's a bit stiff," he added, pointing at him.
"So?" Lano asked again.
Elio and Danzel exchanged looks.