Soft moonlight filtered through the tall, arched windows of the hospital wing, bathing the rows of beds in a quiet silver glow. The air was calm, filled with the soothing scent of healing herbs, layered with the sharper, bitter undertone of Dr. Maeron's latest concoctions.
Headmaster Aurelius Dreymark stepped into the ward without a sound.
His gaze immediately settled on the narrow bed near the window.
A small girl lay there, her pale face peaceful, golden hair spilling messily across the pillow like strands of moonlight itself.
"How is she now?" Aurelius asked gently. "Is she awake?"
Dr. Maeron—round-faced, warm-eyed, his fingers permanently stained with ink and herbs—shook his head with a puzzled sigh.
"By all medical reasoning, Headmaster, she should have awakened much earlier," he said. "Her condition is stable. Her mana flow is normal. Everything appears… fine."
Aurelius studied the girl in silence.
Then—
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
Maeron followed the direction of the headmaster's gaze and blinked.
Eirene's eyes were half-open, peeking carefully through her lashes. The moment she realized she'd been noticed, she squeezed them shut again—far too dramatically to be convincing.
The doctor frowned. "Is she—?"
"She's pretending," Aurelius said calmly, amusement coloring his voice. "She doesn't wish to drink your bitter herbs, Doctor."
Maeron sputtered. "Pretending?!"
Before he could protest further, Aurelius turned toward the doorway.
"And speaking of patients," he added mildly, "I believe you have another."
Maeron turned—
And nearly dropped his clipboard.
A boy stood quietly at the entrance.
No older than twelve.
His clothes were torn and damp, his dark hair tangled, bruises staining his thin arms and hands. He looked exhausted—but his eyes were sharp, alert, and far too serious for a child.
"Oh dear heavens…" Maeron rushed forward. "Come, come, my boy. Let's get you treated. These injuries—why, they won't do at all!"
The boy didn't move.
His gaze wasn't on the doctor.
It was fixed on the girl lying near the window.
"Boy?" Maeron said more gently. "Come here."
Slowly, reluctantly, the child tore his eyes away and stepped forward.
"Sit here," Maeron instructed, guiding him to the bed beside Eirene's.
The boy obeyed without a word.
As Maeron examined him, he muttered under his breath. "Cuts… bruises… nothing broken, thank the gods."
Before applying the salve, he paused. "This might sting a little. Be brave, alright?"
The boy didn't respond.
Even as the medicine burned against his skin, he didn't flinch. Didn't cry. Didn't make a sound.
Maeron leaned back, stunned.
"You're a strong one," he said softly. "What's your name, child?"
Silence.
The boy stared at the floor.
Maeron glanced helplessly toward the headmaster.
Aurelius stepped forward, his voice warm and steady.
"Kalen."
At the name, Maeron stiffened slightly and looked at Aurelius, eyes widening.
The headmaster nodded.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Kalen Ravencrest."
The boy showed no reaction—but something flickered briefly in his eyes, like a dying ember refusing to go out.
"Rest here," Aurelius continued. "Both of you. Tomorrow is the first day of the new semester. I expect you'll be well enough for the House Division Ceremony."
With that, his robes swept softly across the floor as he departed, his footsteps fading into silence.
Once the door closed, Maeron lingered, glancing between the two children.
Small. Fragile.
Yet unmistakably extraordinary.
"Rest well," he said quietly. "Healing comes faster in sleep."
He turned out the lights and left.
The ward fell silent.
Kalen sat on the edge of his bed, bare feet dangling above the polished floor. Slowly, his gaze drifted toward the window.
Toward her.
Moonlight danced through Eirene's golden hair, turning it into threads of silver and gold. Something about her felt… familiar.
Not her face.
Her presence.
A tug deep within him—like an invisible thread connecting their souls.
Then—
Stop staring at me.
Kalen stiffened.
The voice hadn't come from her lips.
It was inside his head.
Haven't you ever seen a beautiful and charming girl like me before?
He looked away immediately, jaw tightening.
"…Hey!" the voice continued. I'm talking to you, Kalen! It's rude not to answer a lady, you know.
Silence.
Kalen pulled the blanket slightly higher over his shoulder and said nothing.
Eirene frowned.
She wasn't used to being ignored. Ever.
She coughed. Sighed dramatically. Even hummed a tune.
Nothing.
Finally, she crossed her arms and muttered aloud, "Unbelievable…"
Kalen turned his back to her and closed his eyes.
Pretending to sleep.
"How arrogant," she whispered irritably.
She rolled over, trying to sleep—but her thoughts refused to settle.
Who was that boy?
And why did it feel like her world had just shifted… the moment he arrived?