Kaito slumped deeper into the worn wooden chair, trying to ignore the faint hum of laughter drifting from the hallway outside. The library, though vast and filled with towering shelves, felt suffocatingly small when it came to hiding from the rest of Astralis Academy.
A glance at his notebook revealed the same uninspired scrawl he’d been staring at for hours:“Elements of Convergence Magic and its Failures.”
“Fitting title,” he muttered under his breath, shutting the book with a dull thud.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t try. Every morning, Kaito dragged himself out of bed and attended spellcasting classes alongside the other students. He followed the gestures, recited the chants, and channeled his will as the instructors demanded. Yet, the results were always the same—nothing. While others conjured flames, summoned winds, and bent light, Kaito barely produced a spark.
He was a joke in a school full of prodigies.
Astralis Academy wasn’t just any institution. Perched atop the cliffs overlooking the Etherial Sea, it was the most prestigious magical academy in the continent. Only the most gifted were admitted. Every student was expected to reach the peak of their craft, but Kaito couldn’t even begin climbing.
He traced the scarred edges of his desk, the faint grooves etched by generations of restless students. It was here, amidst the musty smell of parchment and the comforting weight of ancient tomes, that Kaito found refuge. Most students avoided the library unless forced by assignments, which left it blissfully quiet.
Until today.
The heavy oak doors creaked open, breaking the silence. Kaito’s pen stilled as muffled footsteps echoed against the marble floor. He kept his head down, hoping whoever it was would ignore him.
Instead, the footsteps stopped directly in front of his table.
“Excuse me,” a voice said, smooth but cold.
Kaito looked up and froze.
The girl standing before him was unlike anyone he’d seen at Astralis. Her silver hair gleamed like moonlight, cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves. Her pale blue eyes, sharp and calculating, seemed to pierce through him. She wore the academy’s uniform—a tailored coat embroidered with intricate silver runes—but carried it with an elegance that made her look entirely out of place.
“You’re in my seat,” she said, her tone flat but firm.
Kaito blinked. “Your… seat?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though annoyed he’d questioned her claim. “The seat by the fireplace. I sit there.”
“Oh,” Kaito stammered. “I didn’t know—uh, sorry. I can move.”
Before he could gather his belongings, she held up a hand. “Don’t bother. I’ll sit here.” Without waiting for his response, she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
The library fell back into silence, but it wasn’t the comforting stillness Kaito was used to. It was tense, charged with the presence of the stranger. He tried to focus on his notes, but his gaze kept flickering to the peculiar pendant hanging around her neck.
The object was small, no larger than a pocket watch, but its design was intricate and mesmerizing. A golden compass encased in crystal, its needle spinning slowly despite the lack of movement.
“Do you always stare at strangers like that?” she asked, not looking up from her notebook.
Kaito flushed. “Sorry, I just—your pendant—”
“It’s called the Ethereal Compass,” she interrupted. “Most people don’t notice it.” She finally raised her eyes, locking onto his. “But you did. Interesting.”
Kaito had no idea how to respond. Before he could muster an excuse, the compass began to glow.
A soft hum filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. The crystal casing shimmered, casting refracted light across the room. Kaito’s chair vibrated, the ground beneath him trembling faintly.
“What’s happening?” he asked, his voice rising in panic.
Her expression shifted, the faintest flicker of concern breaking through her calm demeanor. “Impossible. It shouldn’t be reacting to you.”
“To me?” Kaito barely had time to process her words before the library dissolved into blinding light.
When the light faded, Kaito found himself standing in a courtyard.
The first thing he noticed was the sky. It was wrong—fractured, like a shattered mirror reflecting a thousand different hues. Violet clouds swirled above, and streaks of gold and crimson light crisscrossed the horizon. The air was heavy, humming with a strange energy that made his skin tingle.
“What… where are we?” he whispered.
The girl—Amara, as he would later learn—stood beside him, her expression unreadable. “It’s not where,” she said softly, “but when.”
Kaito turned to her, confused. “What does that even mean?”
Amara didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she knelt down, brushing her fingers across the cracked stones beneath their feet. Symbols were etched into the ground, glowing faintly with residual magic.
“This place…” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “It shouldn’t exist anymore.”
Kaito felt a chill crawl down his spine. “Anymore?”
She stood, her gaze scanning the ruins around them. “I don’t know how, but the Ethereal Compass must have reacted to you. It brought us here—what’s left of a reality that no longer exists.”
Kaito struggled to wrap his mind around her words. The alternate sky, the ruins, the strange energy—it all felt surreal, like a vivid dream he couldn’t wake from. But the fear in Amara’s eyes was real.
“What do we do?” he asked.
Amara’s hand moved to the pendant, her fingers tightening around it. “We leave. Now.”
Before Kaito could question how, the compass flared again, bathing them in light.
The familiar smell of parchment and the gentle crackle of the fireplace brought Kaito back to the library. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined everything—the alternate sky, the ruins, the hum of magic—but the look on Amara’s face told him otherwise.
She stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Forget what you saw.”
Kaito stared at her, bewildered. “How am I supposed to forget that? What was that place? What happened—”
“Forget it,” she snapped, her icy demeanor cracking. “This doesn’t concern you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the look in her eyes silenced him. There was fear there, buried beneath her frustration—a fear that made him hesitate.
Without another word, she turned and walked away, her silver hair swaying behind her.
Kaito sat there, staring at the spot where she’d stood. His heart was racing, his mind a whirlwind of questions. He didn’t know who she was, why the compass had reacted to him, or what the ruins meant, but one thing was certain: he was already in too deep.
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