Chapter 7

Royal Voltara Academy

Lab 2

That same afternoon.

The workbench looked more like a battlefield than a study desk. Copper wiring, tiny shards of broken gems, and blackened scraps of failed medallions sprawled across Caden’s side, while Zoelle’s corner was a neat fortress of stacked tomes, half-scribbled notes, and carefully labeled quills. Every so often, the hiss of soldering or the crackle of static would punctuate the quiet hum of the library annex, followed by Caden’s inevitable curse when something fried.

“Another one dead,” he muttered, shaking the still-smoking medallion between his fingers. “That’s number fifteen in two days. I swear, I’ve killed more batteries with less input than Abelard has killed brain cells trying to sabotage me.”

Zoelle looked up from her book with a faint smirk. “Don’t be so harsh. If only the prince were to lose brain cells when he sees you. But apparently, he despises the Duchess even more; it’s a… selective reaction.”

“Selective homicide, you mean,” Caden shot back, setting the ruined trinket aside. “I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

Zoelle laughed softly, tapping her quill against the margin of her book. “You know, during my Caperonu Spring, the upperclassmen kept us running into swarms of horned wolves just to see who would panic first. Half the first-years cried, the other half tried to show off.” She gave him a sly glance. “You’d fit perfectly in both categories.”

Caden groaned. “Thanks for the confidence.”

“I mean it,” Zoelle said, still smiling as she turned a page. “Back then, no one dared to push back against the seniors. Everyone just… swallowed their pride and went along. You, though? You’ve got the prince himself foaming at the mouth, and that’s only in sparring. Honestly, I’m impressed you’re still alive.”

Zoelle’s eyes flicked toward him, half amused, half proud. “That’s why we’re here. You keep blowing things up, and I keep finding ways to stop you from blowing yourself up. Division of labor.”

"But... you're the one who's investigating magic release from items," Caden said.

"R-right you are!" Zoelle said, gently smiling at him, "I wasn't talking about magical items, though."

Caden considered her for a moment before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you meant... yes, heh, I suppose I'm still a ticking bomb... am I not?"

"A ticking bomb?"

"It's a timed explosion controlled by a device..."

"I've never heard of that before."

"R-right!" Caden said nervously, "Well, um, it's what I know at least, you know..."

"Okay."

"I'm going to blow up sooner or later, or not..."

"Blow up?"

"I mean, not if I can defuse the bomb first..."

"Why would it blow up? Seriously, you're a walking delusion at times," she said, turning back to her book.

He chuckled, though his gaze lingered on her smile far longer than he intended. Clearing his throat, he bent over his notes again, but his focus wavered. No matter how hard he tried to trace the lines of his circuits, his eyes kept sliding back to her — to the curtain of silver hair with its lazy bang covering one eye, to the sharp flick of her other eye dancing between book and page, to the curve of her lips, fuller on the bottom, always pursed as though weighing an answer only she knew.

ZAP.

A crackle erupted from the medallion in his hand, and before he could even swear, the surge punched him square in the chest. His body jolted backward like a ragdoll, slamming into the far wall with a spectacular thud that rattled the shelves.

“Caden!” Zoelle gasped, leaping from her seat. She hurried to his side, her hands sliding under his arm as she hoisted his dead weight upright. He winced but allowed himself to lean against her as she half-dragged him toward the couch, muttering under her breath about idiots who don’t respect raw current.

Propped up at last, still catching his breath, Caden gave her a crooked grin. “You know… with the way Valery keeps feeding me ideas for improving these batteries, they might actually work for your own experiments too. A portable little zap-pack to trigger all that stored mana you’re always fussing about.”

Her lips curved in a quick laugh, but the brightness faded almost instantly. Her eyes darkened, the weight of her thoughts breaking through the moment. “It’s not enough,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Caden noticed that as she gave him a tonic, which he drank like a shot of water, and returned to her station.

There was a moment of awkward silence until he tilted his head against the couch, still catching his breath from the blast, and studied her profile. “Zoelle… I don't know why I've never asked, but... do you actually have a goal with all this?” he asked softly. “I mean, the storage and release—why push yourself so hard for it?”

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her notes before she set them aside. For a moment, she didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on some far corner of the room, as if dredging up something she’d rather keep buried.

“During my first year,” she said at last, her voice quieter than he’d ever heard it, “I lost everyone. My family, my hometown… gone in a single night. A rampant dragon tore through, and the news reached me just hours after the entrance ceremony.” Her lips quivered, though her tone stayed steady. “I sat here, in this academy full of strangers, and felt like I’d been hollowed out. Alone. Abandoned.”

Caden swallowed, suddenly aware of how small she seemed despite her usual sharpness.

“But someone helped me,” she continued, her eyes softening as she returned to the couch like a tired co-worker having a break. “Someone reached out and gave me the strength to stand again. I promised myself I’d give back—that I’d find a way to help them in return. That’s why I’m here, why I push forward with this insane idea of storing magic, no matter how dangerous.”

She shifted closer, her silver hair brushing his shoulder, and laid her hand gently over his. The touch was featherlight, but it set his heart racing as though his circuits had been overloaded again.

“When you sat on that bench at the entrance ceremony, Caden… looking so lost, so out of place—I wanted to be that person for you too.”

His chest tightened, and for a moment, the hum of mana around them felt very far away.

"And... well," he said, nervously, "here I am, repeating the cycle, heh, ironic, right?"

"That's what I thought the first time you ended in the infirmary, fifteen incidents ago," Zoelle smiled.

"They were not fifteen." 

"Sixteen, counting this one," she said, lifting her finger.

"Why would this one count?!"

"My lab, my rules," she took her finger to her lips.

He immediately looked away, thinking on how flirtatious she was, "B-but still..."

The words still lingered in the air when a sharp crack split the silence.

BOOM!

The table in the corner belched smoke and sparks, throwing both of them back against the couch. Glass clinked onto the floor as the room filled with a choking haze.

“Not again!” Zoelle coughed, stumbling toward the windows.

Caden, still dizzy, pushed himself up and staggered after her. Together they flung open shutters and doors until the dusk's breeze chased the smoke away. They walked out of the lab, laughing between coughs, hair and robes powdered gray with soot. 

As they waited for the last of the smoke to curl out the window, Caden glanced back at Zoelle. She was brushing soot from her notes, her silver hair a mess, streaks of gray dust smeared across her cheek.

His throat tightened. Before he could stop himself, he stepped closer and reached out, his fingers trembling just a little. “Hold still,” he muttered.

Zoelle blinked at him as his hand brushed lightly across her face, sweeping the ash away from the curve of her cheek. The warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips made his heart stumble in his chest.

“There,” he said quickly, pulling his hand back as if it had burned him. “Taking care of you for once.”

Her lips curved into a small, startled smile, softer than her usual grin. “Thank you, Caden.”

"16 to 1," he said with a grin.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"16 times you took care of me, now it's one for me."

"Is that so?" Zoelle said, her eyes joining her smile.

"I'm claiming it," he wheezed, brushing ash from his sleeve to hide his blushedness. “Seriously, I don’t know who’s more dangerous,”  

“Probably me,” Zoelle chuckled, touching her cheek right where he had touched. “But you’re catching up fast. Good thing we have each other, huh?”

The laugh faded as she straightened, her expression softening. “I’ll miss this, you know. With Abelard’s new schedule and the Caperonu Spring coming, you’ll be stuck in those joint exercises every afternoon. It won’t be the same.”

Caden looked at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Then I’ll just come at night. I’ll keep coming, Zoelle. I’m not giving up.”

Her silver eye glinted in the lamplight as she studied him. “You really mean that, don’t you?" 

"I don't have a choice," he said, his eyes saddening before the pressure only he carried.

"But... why?" Zoelle said, leaning closer to him, "Why press yourself with the crazy routine with Gael if it gives you a morning nosebleed from the exertion? Why chase the Duchess’s favor if it brings you close to the Prince's ire? Why hoard every coin you earn? What’s all this survival feeling I'm getting from you for?”

For a moment, he hesitated, caught off guard. The weight of his truth pressed against his chest like a stone. He couldn't tell her. Of all the things he knew would happen less than three months from now, he could not risk the life of someone he... cared.

“I need the money to get out,” he said finally, his voice low. “To survive.”

"No kidding," she said, "but what?"

"Something's... happening... to me... soon."

Zoelle blinked, confused. “Caden…?”

He looked away, fists tightening. “Time’s running out for me. But even if it is… I won’t stop. Not until I’ve given everything... I won't—”

He stopped, relaxed, and turned back with a faint smile, "The smoke's already faded, we can come back now and see what we need to clean."

He came back in, but Zoelle lingered for a moment before following him.

"Caden..." she uttered lowly, worried, as a whisper not meant to be heard.

But he heard it, and his eyes furrowed in pain. 

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of dying sparks in the ruined experiment. It remained quiet for a couple of hours more they worked. 

A tear flowed from Caden's cheek as he worked with his back turned on Zoelle.

Of all the things that had transpired, he thought, I just had a nice, sweet moment with her, and I messed it all up... This game... this hellish game... why? I can't even like someone properly because I'm just... surviving! And now I won't have moments with her

"I-I'm going to the infirmary to grab some things and then... maybe sleep a bit," she said out of the blue, stretching her arms, "W-will you be okay?"

"Y-yeah! Don't you worry!" he said, dodging her eyes, "I'll work some more on this battery to see if I can make it store the input of one of Valery's spells and then—"

"Gotcha," she said, "Just don't... overstretch yourself or it'll be... You know, 18-1."

His eyes widened as he was about to turn and see her off, but a soft blanket fell on his shoulders as Zoelle covered him with it, catching him by surprise.

"You may have learned how to regenerate your body, but you haven't healed from a cold as far as I know..." she said as her arms stretched around his back to cover him. 

An unnecessary move, for sure. 

Caden blushed and tensed, "That's... thank you, I can cover myself—" 

"If you won't give up, then I won't either," she said to his ear, softly.

Her voice, her words, electrified him more than a thousand batteries. The shock of her breath stunned his body and sent his heart flying around the Earth in a blast more than a lab accident could. It burned him with an intensity brighter than a thousand of Abelard's spells or a hundred drills from Gael's regime.

By the time he turned, Zoelle was gone. He scanned the empty lab as he tightened the blanket around him and closed his eyes; the tear had dried up. His sense of time had been put off by the mark of her warmth. 

Caden smiled gently, his eyes narrowing down to this powerful, soothing feeling.

"Well, crap," he sighed, then laughed while running his hand across his face, forehead, and messy hair, "Is this possible?"

It felt like one of those moments when a game offered you a choice.

A choice so important that if you were going a certain direction, you would now go in a completely different one, no matter what.

"I-I just met her... and yet...," he smiled out of how dumb he was being at that moment, "I've fallen in love with Zoelle Meinhart."