Several open‑decked medical vessels hovered a few feet above the patterned stones outside the school gates.
Each one was shaped like a broad, pointed wooden leaf, with smooth planks following with natural leaf lines and edges trimmed in a faint, glowing gold. In the middle of every deck, an injured instructor lay inside a small pod, wrapped beneath a cage of thin, white light bands.
They even lacked tires, yet that didn't dim their beauty.
Draven stood in front of the vessel holding Valora, the two of them speaking quietly. A short distance away, Cythera stood before another, watching her grandfather with an obvious weight of worry in her eyes. Inside the pod of the leaf‑shaped vessel, the old man lay secure beneath the glowing bands of light.
Her grandfather noticed Damon standing near the gates. His eyes lingered on Damon for quite a while. Then his eyes turned to his grandson Klaven, who was sitting on a slab with his back against the wall like his only supporter as he gazed at sundown.
Damon slowly turned around with Daichi resting on his shoulder and walked back toward his mother, who was talking with Nyra inside the gates.
A few paces away, Princess Alya stood quietly under the shade of a thick tree, her arms crossed as she watched the medical vessels prepare for takeoff. Her face was completely still, almost worried, but she didn't look toward Klaven or the others.
Her eyes noticed Damon; however, when he turned, she quickly shifted her slightly pinkened face.
'He has gold-specked eyes… My eyes are golden...'
As Damon turned, he thought, 'He reminds me of Dumbledore. Every time I think I've seen everything, something just has to prove me wrong.'
Nearby, the shardling boys already seemed more energetic now that the crisis was over.
Seeing Damon walk away, the grandfather's gaze drifted back to his granddaughter. His breath hitched slightly. He raised a scrawny hand and gently touched her face.
"Do not look so terribly stricken, my dear girl," he said, his voice cracking like old wood. "Old age and poor reflexes simply caught up with me a fraction sooner than I had anticipated. There is no need to fret, Cythera."
Cythera frowned, "How can you ask me not to? Queen Thessa— a Sovereign—already healed you, but because of your age, you still need more checks. You said you could handle the robot. There was no reason for you to lie. If you hadn't left you alone, there wouldn't be so much destruction because I'd have helped. It'd have been a lot easier for everyone if I'd defeated Doran then."
Around them, members of the infirmary moved in a hurry, dressed in green clothes with medical tools in hand as they prepared to depart.
The grandfather chuckled lightly, "Come now, do not take out your anger on me. You're a child, ease yourself of your... self-imposed responsibilities. I have told you before that we must all learn to accept our faults. You feel as though you have made a terrible mistake by allowing an old man like myself to enjoy a battle, and I suppose, in a strictly practical sense, you have."
Cythera glared down at him with slightly gritted teeth.
"But I must confess," he quickly added with a smirk, "I rather enjoyed the beatdown—even if it lacked the particular, terrifying flair of your grandmother's wrath."
Cythera made an unknowingly sharp inhale, eyes darkened, the light slowly leaving them.
"Your grandmother would not dream of scolding you for letting me fight, Cythera," the old man said softly. "In truth, she would be immensely proud that you saved this school from a potential inter-kingdom assassination. What happened to her… I don't know how much I'll say it's not your fault. And even if it were, she would have forgiven you that very second. It remains a great sorrow of mine that out of everything I have spent years teaching you, the one thing you flatly refuse to learn is to forgive yourself for a crime you're not guilty of."
He glanced past her toward Damon, who was currently shrugging at something his mother and Nyra said as they teased him. Daichi seemed to be drumming on his head with his paws.
"You can't say anything, because you know I'm not wrong," the old man murmured, turning back to Cythera with a knowing smile.
"Prince Damon… you have grown decidedly softer since meeting him, my dear. Is it his presence, I wonder? Or perhaps the unique nature of his upbringing on Earth? Either way, he is your friend, just as you have told me. There is truly no need to carry everything as a solitary secret."
Her cheeks had a subtle blush to them now, and a single finger of hers began to trace an intricate pattern on the vehicle.
Archon Voren—Cythera's grandfather—paused for a short while, "He does not need to know whatever happened; I am certain the Queen will remain silent out of the deep respect she holds for me, which naturally extends to you if you choose not to say anything. Yet, eventually, you will have to tell him. You've been blessed with true friends, Cythera. Lean on them."
Cythera looked into his eyes, watching his old face crack into a somewhat jagged smile. She chuckled.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out his glasses and carefully slid them onto his eyes.
"You talk a lot when you can't see clearly, grandfather," she said, a subtle, teasing smile touching her lips. "I'm fine. You should talk to Klaven when you feel better—preferably with your glasses off, because you sound wiser then."
The old man smiled. "I'm not sure whether to thank the glasses for my sight, or The Eternal One for having such a granddaughter."
A member of the infirmary stepped up to the vehicle. "Lady Cythera, we must depart now."
"You should thank the doctors for listening to your bicker," Cythera replied as the protective casing closed up, forming a clear dome over her grandfather's body. "I'll tell Klaven you sent for him. Please rest."
"Tell my children not to visit me. I can't stand your mother's nagging, or her sister-in-law's," the old man said finally.
Cythera's shoulders seemed to have dropped now. She stood back, watching the vehicle glide away as she waited for the rest of the convoy to move out.
Inside the school, Draven walked back to Queen Thessa. His face seemed slightly pleasing, almost beggish. "Your Majesty?"
Queen Thessa turned to him. "Yes, Draven. What is it? You look like you'd like me to give you something."
"No, no. I wasn't trying to insinuate that, but… I would like you to give me something," Draven said. "Permission."
Nyra looked at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. "Hmm… Are you neglecting your Noble duties?"
"I'm not even a Noble…" Draven said.
"You're only not a Noble when it doesn't benefit you," Nyra shot back. "You even called the Luminar Lifesleds, which are strictly for Nobles."
Damon turned to Draven, looking confused. "Huh? In the Eildon Archives, it says those are for normal citizens. I thought those guys you called were the Celestine Conveyance."
Cythera walked up to the group. "Draven couldn't have called the Celestine Conveyance because no Royals are wounded. He called the Luminar Lifesleds instead, as those are for Nobles and the likes, and Eterna Pulsecrafts are for citizens."
Damon blinked, processing the math of it. "Oh… I guess I read the Archives wrong. But the medical tiers aren't just about status, right? They're about defense. The archives say the Royals get the top-tier Celestine Conveyance because losing a leader leaves the entire kingdom exposed to an invasion, so basically, we're more important to the kingdom's safety. The system prioritises the most dangerous vulnerabilities first to keep rival kingdoms from capitalizing on a tragedy. Word for word in the archive."
While Damon kept talking to Cythera—who just stared back with a deadpan expression—and Draven, who seemed to be waiting for the exact moment the Prince would finally keep quiet, Nyra leaned over and whispered to her mother.
"Mother, you know he's just saying this to prove he actually listens in class and reads?"
Queen Thessa smirked and replied, keeping her voice low. "If that wasn't the reason, he'd be dead. Because that wouldn't be my son."
Nyra laughed with a hand over her mouth and one on her midsection.
When Damon finally stopped speaking, Cythera nodded slightly. "That's one way to phrase it, yes. Draven is on the… Noble side, as you put it, so he called his level of medical care for the instructors."
"How kind," Damon said, facing Draven.
"I would call my level for them too," Cythera added like a fact speaker.
Damon looked her dead in the eye. "You've been saying the truth since the day started, Cythera. Let's not end it with lies."
Cythera inhaled a sharp, hissing breath through her teeth with her left eyebrow twitching violently as if in open rebellion against her calm expression, "I'm not lying."
"Okay," Damon shrugged. "I'll tell a lie: I believe you."
Cythera's face instantly darkened, but a slightly evil smirk cut through her expression.
Behind her back, hidden from Damon's direct line of sight, she subtly swirled her fingers through the air.
A terrifying tension snapped through Damon's body. His left hand violently twitched, rising toward his face completely on its own accord. It moved with a rigid, unnatural force, as if invisible strings were threading through his veins and pulling the muscle.
"Cythera…" Damon strained, his voice cracking as he fought against his own skeleton. "What's going on?"
"You're not keeping your eterna flowing," Cythera whispered, her eyes locking onto his with absolute authority. "You should keep your eterna flowing at all times, Damon. Otherwise, I'll always be able to bend the water in your very blood. I can even make it hurt if I want to. That's not a lie. Would you like me to prove it, Prince Damon?"
Fear spiked in Damon's chest as his hand, acting entirely against his will, gripped a handful of his own hair and pulled backward, forcing his head up.
"No. No thanks," Damon choked out, his eyes wide. "I believe you."
With a satisfied smirk, Cythera dropped her hand, and the invisible pressure vanished instantly. Damon slumped forward, rubbing his wrists and breathing heavily.
"How do I keep my eterna flowing?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.
Cythera replied flatly, "I'm not telling you."
Draven walked several paces away in an attempt to escape Damon and Cythera gently. He faced the Queen again, "Queen Thessa, my brother, and the rest of us, including Bravira, intended to have a night out today. Thorpax's complaints about my late attitude to important… adventures have been increasing lately. I'd like my older brother not to complain once. So, do I have permission to leave now, Your Highness?"
Queen Thessa looked at him for a quiet moment. "Well, sure. It was Damon who beckoned for you. Please ensure Bravira doesn't kill someone, and privately tell Thorpax I asked he ensure he limits her drinks. If he even could. Also, ensure Varnex does not get drunk, and if he does... You know he has to limit his power."
Draven smiled brightly and bowed. "Yes, I will. Thank you, Your Majesty."
"I'm glad to see you smiling again, Draven," Queen Thessa praised as she fixed her eyes on his. Draven nodded in response.
He turned away and began floating up into the air without raising dust from the ground. He paused for a second, turning around to look down at Damon with his shadow stretching below. From his vantage point above, he could see Princess Alya in the distance, seemingly walking toward the Queen.
"Prince Damon!" Draven called out. "Could you meet me at the… well, I remember once showing you where Thorpax and I have our brotherly… quarrels. Meet me there tomorrow morning. Let's properly begin training your Wind."
"Alright then. I'll see you there," Damon said. "Do I need to bring anything?"
"I'd prefer if you came there on foot," Draven said with a smirk and gestured with his hand. "You'll need the morning warmup."
Damon leaned his head toward his shoulder, whispering to Daichi, "Okay… that means we won't be passing by the Corehouse of Plenty for our run tomorrow."
Daichi frowned instantly.
"But we can still go after," Damon quickly added. "Deal?"
"Double," the hound whispered back, his furry face dead serious. "You're gonna get me double of everything we normally get."
"Okay, sure," Damon muttered. He turned back to the sky and waved at Draven. "Alright. I'll see you there. Enjoy yourself tonight."
Draven smiled back and gave Cythera a final nod. Her expression softened in response. With a sudden burst of speed, Draven dashed off into the sky, leaving a mild sonic boom behind him that rattled the trees.
Damon looked around the space. "Where's Hazel?"
"Oh… she left to inform the fairies of Doran's capture," Cythera said, her voice turning cool and steady. "Queen Thessa granted them the power to do whatever they wish with him as soon as we've made total and complete use of him."
"Hm… Okay."
As Damon and Cythera finished talking, the clouds hung low over the sky in soft, layered streaks of pink and violet, bleeding into each other like slow-moving ink. A warm, golden outline caught the edges of the horizon, making the entire sky look more like a painting than actual weather. Around the school grounds, the massive, epic trees rustled gently in the wind, and the birds finally began to settle down after the chaos.
Damon looked up at the view, letting out a sharp, calming breath.
'I really hope Eternum isn't just me in a coma,' he thought, staring at the sky. 'Sometimes I still think I'm in a hospital bed from getting beaten up back when mom...'
He paused his own thoughts, his eyes drifting over to where his mother was currently laughing with Nyra. A few paces away, the boys who had fought Doran were still hanging around in their own form of peaceful chaos. Queen Thessa noticed his stare and smiled warmly at him.
An unknowingly boyish smile framed Damon's face as he looked away. 'What am I even saying…? It is real. It's just… absurd. My school day involved fighting a robot sent to watch me. I don't even wanna think about why right now. The sky is pretty… I'm living in a world with a thousand frames per second. Yeesh. I just wish Natsuki could finish her exams and look at it with me. No… exams are normal stuff. I should figure out what's up with Gamishi, train, and go back to her after beating him.Still…" He paused, "I think she'd wanna see this.But for now… the sky really is pretty. I'm sure someone's watching this with a waterfall next to them. That'd be nice.'
Damon kept his hands deep in his pockets, silently staring at the sunset.
Princess Alya walked towards the Queen, but she stopped in her tracks right at Damon's side, her eyes lingering on his side profile for a short moment.
"Princess Alya," a voice called out.
Alya's body gave a sudden jolt, startled by Queen Thessa's call.
"Did I startle you?" Thessa asked, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Oh… were you staring at my son?"
Alya's face turned completely red, a deep flush spreading across her cheeks. A tiny vein pulsed at the side of her head as she frantically waved her hands in front of her. "No, no, no! I was just… thinking of whether to speak of an apology or offer my gratitude. I know, I must tell him something."
Queen Thessa kept her hands clasped behind her back, tilting her head with her eyes closed in a gentle, knowing smile. "Must you say something?"
Alya's breath hitched. She looked down with a mind of a messy jumble of royal pressure and the raw trauma of almost dying. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Klaven standing completely alone near the edge of the passage into the school, as they were now all seated outside, staring blankly up at the colourful clouds with a hollowed-out expression.
She tore her gaze away from him, looking directly back at the Queen. "Queen Thessa… did you tell my parents? Did you tell them what happened here?"
Queen Thessa's expression shifted, a look of subtle, genuine pity settling into her sapphire eyes. "As the daughter of another kingdom, you understand your father is the King… I had to tell him."
Right on cue, a heavy, rhythmic hum cut with a smooth vibration through the air
High above the academy gates, the clouds parted violently as three massive, heavily armored royal vehicles descended from the violet sky, lined up horizontally in a tight formation.
It was instantly obvious that the central vessel was the primary transport for the King and Queen; it was twice the size of the others, its hull practically dripping with pristine gold plating.
Flanking it on either side, the two smaller escort ships kept perfect pace, their heavy weapon turrets crackling with defensive energy. The gilded crest of Sunspire on the main hull gleamed under the dying sunlight, throwing a long, commanding shadow over the entire courtyard as the convoy prepared to land.
Damon watched the massive ships settle onto the patterned stones. 'Wow,' he thought to himself. 'They sure do waste a lot of gold on a simple vehicle. Nice defenses, though.'