Aaron sat at a white-clothed table, napkin on his lap, and silver utensils in front of him.
Classical music played through the fields of artificial grass that had been grown for the festival, and hundreds of similar-looking tables were lined throughout the nighttime plaza.
To prevent discourse, sections were divided by rank and status, creating social barriers that gave the cadets only a little room to move.
The rigidity stretched only to the point of moving one class up or one class down, allowing some of the Colonels to appear at the same table as Aaron, Akari, Alaric, and Ezra.
The young Colonels in their group kept shifting uncomfortably as they watched the boy whom they had bullied chatting casually with Ezra and Akari—a striking contrast to their openly hostile behaviour the day before, when they had faced Aaron on his own.
Alaric sat awkwardly by himself, not quite mastering the skills he had been taught to socialize at gatherings of this magnitude.
The turquoise-eyed boy could practically see the irritation and embarrassment stricken across his face as he waited for the food to come.
"So you ain't lying about being his childhood friend, right? He ain't got a good memory, so you better not be lyin to him."
Ezra's aggression was directed towards the pink-haired girl, who had already downed half a bottle of hard terror extract, perhaps to avoid the more important guests that seemed eager to approach her.
"I'mmmm not lyingggg—"
Akari's voice was dreary and warped as if she could collapse at any moment, her body wobbling like a twig in a windstorm.
While laws prohibited underage use of mentally stimulating substances, consuming beverages with high alcohol content was deemed a minor, ticketed offense at worst.
Therefore, as the girl practically fell over herself after downing another full glass of the strong liquor, all she could do was burp loudly and collapse into Aaron's lap.
Looking down hesitantly, all he could do was sigh and stand up, his eyes glancing over to his other, relatively straight-thinking friend.
"Ezra. Help me carry her over to that bench. I think our fellow finalist here needs to sober up a little…"
Disregarding the stares from the Colonels and Alaric, the two boys lifted the girl carefully by arms and legs, trying their best not to startle her from her slumber.
That, of course, failed, as the moment she became airborne, she flinched awake.
"I-I-I ain't ssssober! W-wheeere's my glass…"
Struggling against their grip, she kicked and punched until they finally allowed her to crawl over towards the table.
Scooping up her empty glass like a baby, she dragged her body back to where the boys stood, jumped into Aaron's arms like a cat, and allowed herself to be carried to the bench.
Placing her gently on the wooden surface, the blond boy sat down beside her, Ezra close behind.
Noticing the expression on the black-haired boy's face, he could only groan and try to find an excuse for her actions.
"Don't mind her. She's always been like this whenever she drank too much, and she certainly won't be much better after she wakes up…"
Thinking back to the time only a few months before his disappearance, he suddenly paused, his brow furrowing.
Eh? W-wait… Did I just remember something? T-that isn't… H-how did I…
Opening and closing his mouth in dismay, he felt Ezra's firm hand clasp down on his shoulder.
"Aye, man. I ain't telling you how to handle your girl, but I just ain't like drinkers. I got a bad history with the stuff…"
Patting Aaron's arm lightly, he took a step back towards the table where the waiters had begun to serve food.
"You stay here and watch her, and I'll eat the food for both of us. Alright?"
Smiling back at the blond boy, he pulled out his dining chair and sat down swiftly, not wanting to waste the precious feast in front of him.
Selfish bastard…
Glancing down at the girl who slept on his thigh, he could only heave another long sigh, his eyes turning towards the faded stars above.
The light pollution blotted out most of the smaller stars, leaving only one large celestial object in view, a presence that had haunted the boy for weeks.
It's larger again…
Previously, he could place a coin into the air above his head and carefully match it to the moon's size to cover it whole.
Now, however, if he were to hold his hand at that same distance from his face, he would need a coin at least three times bigger to even attempt a comparison.
The moon's surface was a milky white, clean of any imperfections or blemishes that any normal object in the night sky should have.
Its smooth face had confused astronomers for decades, yet as the sight of the enlarged sphere entered Aaron's view, he could clearly tell one thing.
That's no moon.
Tapping his temples with the hand that wasn't trapped below Akari's head, he closed his eyes to tune out all the mischelanious, chaotic swirls of mana that danced in the festive air.
As the hidden layer of the world revealed itself to him, he glanced upward at the large celestial body, his eyes burning like fire, and he noticed two strands emerging from its glowing surface.
Each one was perhaps the length of a planet, stretching out endlessly over the heavens and disappearing somewhere far beyond the horizon, just like two brush strokes dragged violently over the night sky.
Looking away, he tried to figure out where they led, but as he traced them with his eyes, they flashed briefly before suddenly vanishing, letting darkness reclaim the night sky.
Furrowing his brow, he turned his gaze back to the moon, the strands shining steadily, still in the same place.
Do they only appear when I look straight at it? Perhaps the ends are too far for me to see clearly…
Deactivating his Mana Vision, he thought inwardly about everything that had happened throughout the exam so far, the weeks of agony he had endured, the pressure that had gradually built up in the back of his mind.
That dream… It all started with that damned dream… Whatever that ice-covered terror was, in that void, it must be the one responsible for creating those streaks on the moon. The mana frequency is the same, and so are the auras.
Hearing Ezra's laugh at the table, he stopped his thoughts, noticing the black-haired boy talking with the two male Colonels.
He must be having fun…
As for him, it seemed like Akari's snores were the closest he would get to a fun conversation that night.
Staring off into space, he sat there and pondered the words of the guildmaster that had been stuck in his head.
Choosing a side? If he really hopes to start a war, then no matter who I pick, I will end up making enemies, won't I? If I chose the Association, I'd have to leave the Hunters' Guild, and any semblance of power I have here would definitely vanish. And the Association isn't like this place at all. Paperwork, uncompensated labor, bullying by Sea Kings…
He grunted, his lip twitching slightly.
But does President Lispentine really think he has a chance against the Kings? Cam and that Swordsman might be strong enough, but to kill all five of them? Are they insane or just downright idiotic?
Biting his lip, he continued.
The Hunters' Guild is offering me stability in the new government they wish to create, along with likely monetary benefits, but the Association would give me connections to the people who actually have powers like me… Plus, I don't have anything against the Association, or the current government as a whole, so it's not like I want to fight them either!
Throwing his head back, he resisted the urge to shout aloud, the pent-up confusion and annoyance finally reaching the limits of his wrecked mind.
"Aaaaaaron…"
Akari's drunken groan snapped him back to reality.
"Eh?"
Looking down at the girl, he noticed her blue eyes staring up at him, a light blush coating her cheeks.
"I-I-I…"
She stuttered out words as she tried to prop herself up, crawling further onto his lap before collapsing into a pile halfway over him.
"Akari?"
Tilting his head and trying to push her slightly aside, he heard a quiet voice come from her mouth, and stilled himself to listen intently.
"I waaaaant moooooore alcoholllllll…"
There was an awkward pause for a moment as her eyes stared straight into his own, an unspoken message going between them.
Blinking, Aaron stood up, moving the girl off himself and onto the bench so she could lie down in a less twisted position.
Then, he returned to their table and sat down, looking at his full plate of slightly lukewarm food for a moment.
Ezra tried to say something to him; however, as the scent of fresh roast entered the starving boy's nose, he started stuffing his face, practically inhaling half the plate in the blink of an eye.
"How the hell did you—"
The black-haired boy's startled voice echoed in Aaron's ears, yet he continued without hesitation, devouring his food before any of the earlier eaters could even take another bite.
His table manners were so abysmal that Alaric looked as if Aaron had just murdered a child, the three Colonels opting not to say a word in case the blond boy decided to snap at them.
Finishing his meal, the blond boy stood up, grabbed a fancy, unopened bottle from the center of the table, and walked back to where Akari groaned.
Uncorking the top, he looked down on the shamelessly drunk teen girl who attempted to grab the liquor straight out of his hands.
"Miiiiiiiiiiiine!"
Faking her out, he watched as she helplessly fell onto the grass with a soft thud before going silent and looking up at him sadly.
Crouching down to the same height as her fallen form, he tipped the bottle towards her mouth, not quite caring about spilling any on her clothes.
"GAWK!"
As the liquid splattered across her face, the girl became like a frenzied cat, attacking his arms and chest with clenched fists; the effect was somewhat diminished by her drunken haze.
However, the boy only laughed, another forgotten memory returning in full to his mind.
It was one of those times, not that long ago, the two were partying late and drinking various ailments to see who would faint first.
Akari, with her notoriously weak tolerance, didn't last long, forcing Aaron to burden himself with getting her home.
Yet, when he had eventually reached her house, he had stopped outside the door, deciding that she had to face a punishment for making him carry her the whole way.
He had dumped a bucket of water on her head to sober her up, a tactic that had never failed him before.
There was a similar type of fight after that incident; however, at the ceremony, unlike back then, he could truly laugh.
Of course, that laughter abruptly stopped as his gaze flickeredupward, his eyes meeting the greatest swordsman in the world, the Marshal of the South.