“Here, Arthur, follow me,” Flora said, turning on her heel and leading the way down the dim corridor.
Arthur immediately fell into step behind her. “Flora?”
She glanced back over her shoulder without breaking her consistent, graceful pace. “Hm?”
“Aunt Alice told me that you took care of the damage in the city streets,” Arthur said, looking at her profile. “The aftermath of my fight with Beelzebub.”
Flora nodded easily. “Yes. It was actually a simple spell, really—at least for me. It is a reversal spell, just cast on a much larger scale.” She stopped abruptly, pointing a delicate finger toward an ornate vase resting on a nearby pedestal. “Here, try breaking that vase over there.”
“Oh. Umm… okay,” Arthur nodded. He raised his right hand, a crisp crimson magic circle manifesting in front of his palm. With a faint hum, a concentrated laser beam shot forward, slicing the porcelain vase perfectly in half.
Flora squinted her eyes at the clean cut, her gaze turning sharp and suspicious. “Where exactly did you learn that spell, Arthur?”
“From my father,” Arthur replied honestly. “We used it to hunt deer whenever we wanted fresh meat for dinner.”
“Huh…” Flora tilted her head, her ears twitching as she studied him. “That specific spell is usually only taught to high-ranking royal assassins.”
“Royal assassins?” Arthur blinked.
Flora nodded. “That spell is called akariaíos. It is widely used by them to eliminate anyone who opposes the royal family. It is near-instantaneous and leaves no mess. It gets the job done.”
Arthur scratched the back of his head. “Oh. I had no idea.”
She stared at him for a few seconds longer, as if trying to read the secrets hidden behind his unbothered expression. Then, she smiled and shook her head. “Never mind. Here, let me show you the reversal magic I used earlier.”
Flora extended her hand toward the severed pieces of the vase. She slowly rotated her wrist in a clockwise motion, as if manually turning the hands of a clock. Right before Arthur's eyes, the shattered pieces lifted into the air, seamlessly fusing back together until the vase was completely whole again, without a single scratch.
Arthur stared at the flawless porcelain in genuine disbelief. “Woah…”
Flora smiled warmly, flashing him a playful wink. “Just imagine that, but bigger. Big enough to restore a shattered fountain and a collapsed tavern wall in a single breath.”
Turning back around, she continued her walk down the corridor, her ears swaying happily.
It seems like this walk is going to be long, Arthur thought, glancing down the endless corridor. I should probably ask a few questions to get to know this academy better.
But before he could utter a single word, Flora filled the quiet air. “Those golden flames…”
“Hm? This?” Arthur raised his palm, causing a compact ball of radiant golden fire to ignite and hover smoothly over his skin.
Flora nodded, her eyes reflecting the holy light. “How did you get them?”
Arthur looked down at the fire, shaking his head. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. All I know is that I've had them for as long as I can remember. My childhood memories… they're incredibly hazy. I can only clearly remember the day a demon killed my friends, and that's it. I honestly don't even know how I survived.”
Flora squinted, her tactical mind instantly sensing the heavy shift in his tone. Before he could retreat back into his usual unbothered facade, she stepped directly into his space and gently placed her palm right over his heart.
She looked up, locking her gaze onto his. “I can sense a remarkably pure soul within you, Arthur… but at the same time, you are hurting.” She shook her head softly. “Whatever happened all those years ago, it wasn’t your fault.”
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She leaned in even closer. The distance vanished until their faces were barely an inch apart. As she stared deep into his eyes, her own pupils suddenly flared with a brilliant, glowing green light.
“Flora?” Arthur asked, his voice steady but surprised by the sudden proximity.
“Your memories are sealed,” she whispered, her voice dropping into a serious, authoritative tone.
Arthur’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My memories…?”
Flora nodded slowly, her green eyes dimming back to normal as she stepped back. “Someone incredibly powerful locked them away. And whoever did it… their magic is far more advanced than anything I am capable of.”
With that final revelation hanging in the air, they continued down the corridor until they reached the staff quarters. The hallway opened up to reveal four adjacent rooms, each door sporting a polished gold plate with names elegantly engraved in cursive.
Eleanor Hawthorn…
Flora Montgomery…
Alice Marlowe…
Flora gestured toward the final door—the only one lacking a gold plate—and led Arthur toward it. Once they stopped outside, she held out her open palm, causing a blank golden nameplate to materialize out of thin air.
“What is your full name, Arthur?” she asked, looking up at him with a soft, warm smile.
“Arthur Wright,” he responded.
“Oh? Arthur Wright? That name sounds quite pretty,” Flora grinned. She waved her hand over the metal, and his full name smoothly etched itself into the gold.
Arthur chuckled. He leaned down slightly, closing the distance between them. “I could say the same with yours.”
The sudden proximity caught her completely off guard. As his words whispered in her ear, his breath lightly grazed past her neck. Flora’s face instantly flushed a brilliant crimson.
She stared back at him, wide-eyed and burning up. “Uhh… umm… it’s done!”
Scurrying over to the plain wooden door, she pressed the gold plate onto it, aligning it neatly with trembling hands. Without looking back at Arthur, she immediately began walking toward her own room down the hall.
“Flora…?” Arthur called out, watching her go with a thoroughly confused expression.
Flora quickly opened her door and stepped inside. Before pulling it shut, she gave him a hasty, rigid bow. “Good night, Arthur!”
Slam.
Arthur blinked a few times at the empty hallway. “…Good night to you too, Flora.” He turned, opened the door to his new room, and stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him.
Meanwhile, inside her own quarters, Flora was pressed flat against the back of her closed door. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and she was breathing deeply. “I—I wasn’t expecting him to be that bold…”
Arthur looked around the room, realizing it was a far cry from his modest tavern quarters. The bed was massive, featuring an expensive, intricately carved wooden frame and a mattress draped in elegant, patterned sheets. The pillows looked plush, full, and impeccably white. Even the nearby cabinet and dresser appeared to be crafted from the exact same premium wood.
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Curious, he walked over and opened the wardrobe. He was immediately greeted by a rich, meticulously organized selection of new clothes hanging alongside his own things. There were high-end polos, tailored suits, silk ties, and pairs of pants made from the finest fabrics folded neatly on the shelves below.
Arthur shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips. Wow… Aunt Alice really put a massive amount of effort into this, he thought, a sudden wave of warmth hitting him. I actually feel a bit guilty.
Closing the cabinet doors, he turned and dove face-first onto the bed. The mattress was incredibly soft, perfectly absorbing his weight as he rolled over, resting his hands behind his head to stare up at the ceiling.
“Come to think of it,” Arthur muttered to himself into the quiet room, “I haven’t seen that obnoxious prince since our duel this morning. I wonder what happened to him.”
The moment he closed his eyes, the world instantly plunged into darkness.
Flap…
Arthur’s consciousness drifted. What’s that sound? Am I already asleep?
Flap…
The sound echoed through the void, growing steadily closer, heavier, and more resonant.
Flap…
“Arthur…”
A divine, booming voice cut through the absolute silence. It vibrated straight through his core. Whose voice is that? Who the hell is calling my name?
Flap…
Suddenly, the oppressive darkness was shattered by a blinding, radiant light.
“Arthur… Open your eyes,” the voice commanded.
Forcing his eyes open, Arthur was instantly greeted by an awe-inspiring sight. Looming over him was a massive, majestic bird composed entirely of eternal, swirling golden fire. Their surroundings remained pitch black, transforming the divine beast into the sole source of light in the infinite void.
“Who are you?” Arthur asked, his voice echoing in the empty space.
“Who I am does not matter,” the beast replied, its fiery eyes staring down at him with ancient, absolute authority. “The real question is… who are you?”
“Who am I?” Arthur repeated, realizing for the first time that he was floating weightlessly in the center of nothingness.
The colossal beast didn’t move an inch, its piercing, golden gaze locked firmly onto Arthur, waiting for an answer he didn't have.
To Be Continued…