The Unknown is Frightening

 It had been a few days since I’d started adjusting to this world, and the weight of it all felt heavier than I liked to admit. Being around Darren and Historia wasn’t exactly helping. Ever since those subtle shifts in their expressions and the little passive-aggressive comments from day one as Rosaria, things had been… tense. Nothing explosive, but nothing I could ignore either. Historia seemed to have occasional side glances at me that I noticed more and more, like she was sensing something was off, I couldn’t lie, my doubt in playing as Rosaria felt like it cracked under her gaze.

What had changed was Estel. His silence wasn’t as suffocating as it used to be. He’d begun to participate more in class, adding opinions and even challenging questions. It made my heart swell. Seeing my favorite character refusing to be the doormat Amor had written… It felt like hope. If it kept up, maybe , just maybe… I could save him from his tragic fate.

I placed a book down on the dark oak table, before sitting down. Estel has been sitting down opposite of where I sat, studying today's lecture topic. We had come to the old library Nightfall Academy to find anything, but I couldn't lie, it was completely my aesthetic.

The ceilings were high and ribbed with ancient stones, painting with dragons, previous headmasters, and important figures adorning the wall as if to watch over the student to make sure they didn’t make a peep. The scent of wood and old parchment lingered in the air, along with a subtle woodsy, eucalyptus, musk scent from the magical lights to keep people concentrated. The wooden bookshelves tower over the aisles, carvings and other intricate embellishments that made them all the more unique.

I was about to sit down and focus on studying when I heard some people behind the bookshelf next to me groan.

“Seriously? Another lecture about dragons? Who even cares anymore? They’re just old bedtime stories.” a guy said.

“No kidding. I’m sure they’re only talking about it since the increase in magical creatures have been increasing the last 27 years or so. They said that's a sign that a black dragon has awakened in the world.” a girl said.

“I still don’t see why include that as a lecture for magic class…”

My movements faltered. Dragons… The word alone yanked me into the memory of this morning’s lecture.

The classroom had been dim since class was in the inner parts of the academy that was more part wall than window. Tall gothic windows casting pale light across the ivy stone, shelves of books, and old relics. Chalk scratched against the board on its own, outlining two massive dragons.

“Today’s lesson,” Professor Magio said, his voice carrying through the vaulted chamber, “is on the legends of the White Dragon and the Black Dragon.”

Groans spread across the room. A few students muttered about how pointless it was. But Magio pressed on, eyes sharp behind his spectacles.

“Their last battle was centuries ago. Records are fragmented, but all agree on one truth. The Black Dragon brought calamity, and the White Dragon rose as its counterforce. Chaos and balance, destruction and salvation. Their clash reshaped continents.”

I had gripped the edge of my desk then, pulse quickening. I don’t remember Amor ever adding a plotline related to dragons… In fact, all that was ever mentioned was just Historia occasionally going into dungeons and fighting monsters, and her being the blessed one of Krono. Dragons weren't even a thing at all… Worry hit me. Was this really nothing like the books at all? It’s always been a lingering feeling in my mind that perhaps, just as ‘His Amour’ had been some other universe to ‘Historia’s ever After’, this world might be an alternate universe as well…

“As far as it’s been recorded, The Dragon of Darkness was made in order to plot against the goddess who made our world. A seed of evil that awakens its slumber ever so often. The goddess quickly recognized the problem however, and was able to make it lose connection to the evil that fed it. However, the seed of evil remained, and the goddess made her own dragon to combat it, The Dragon of Light. When the Dragon of Darkness would be defeated, the Dragon of Light would slumber, until it would need to be summoned once again.”

By the time Magio explained how they simply went into slumber, my thoughts were spiraling. None of this had been in Amor’s novel. Not a word. So why was it here? And then, Historia, her calm, lilting voice at the end of class. “The White Dragon’s light lingers longer after battle,” she had said to a classmate. “That is why the land still prospers, even now.”

A detail not in the lecture. Not in the books. Something she spoke as though she remembered it herself. And that made a chill run down my spine. I still had a lot left to learn about this world, and I needed to be soon.

I blinked back to the present, sitting at one of the long library tables. Now that I thought about it, the special sprayed-edged version of ‘His Amour’ I had gotten had a white dragon curled up next to a Rose… But then my question lingered, why was there no mention of dragons in either book?

The book I had picked out was still closed as I had zoned out. I slowly looked up, feeling eyes on me. Estel was across from me, head tilted slightly, silver and blue eyes catching mine.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

I stiffened, realizing I had been staring at nothing. “Nothing,” I lied quickly, massaging the skin between my eyes. “Just… tired from all the lectures coming back from a long break is all.”

He didn’t press, which I was thankful for, though the concern in his gaze lingered. I huffed, flipping a page a little harder than necessary. “Not that it matters.”

“Are you worried about Darren and Historia going to the small town from here to deal with the magical creatures that have been spawning lately?” he asked.

“No, it's probably a breath of fresh air without them.” I said, shutting myself up as I realized what I had said was out of Rosaria’s character. Shoot…

That got the smallest twitch of amusement from him. “You dislike them.”

“...Is it that obvious?” I muttered. God, I hope he isn’t suspicious about it...

“Yes,” he said, lips tugging into a faint smile. A small sadness to it. “Since you got back from the boat accident, You and Historia have been exchanging… interesting glances at one another. I think Historia isn’t even aware of it either.”

His words made my chest ache. “I apologized to Historia, I really felt bad for accusing her about pushing me off the boat when we were getting sea slugs. But… she said it was fine, but… she replied almost backhandedly.”

Estel’s browns knit together. His elegant finger to his lip as he pondered. “Historia… I’ve felt she has changed a lot since we’ve grown up. She’s not the same as we all used to play together. I wonder if meeting Darren had anything to do with it..”

That piques my interest. Rosaria, Estel and Historia all childhood friends before? There wasn’t anything like that in any version of the novel. Rosaria was always an outsider to Estel and Historia’s relationship until they got into the academy… odd…

I tapped the open book between us. “Anyway, if we’re stuck here, we might as well use the time to catch up on this dragon nonsense. What do you think? Chaos and salvation, two forces clashing forever? Sounds like a myth to you?”

He leaned forward, fingers brushing the page as his expression grew thoughtful. “Even if people dismiss them as myths, there is always truth buried in them. Chaos and order… One cannot exist without the other.”

The way he said it made me pause. It wasn’t just a passing thought. His voice carried weight, like he was speaking from somewhere deeper than theory. But before I could pry, his expression closed off again, smooth and unreadable, and he turned back to the book as if he hadn’t said anything unusual at all.

I bit my lip. Estel always had this way of pulling me in. The novel had never let him shine like this, but here, in the dim library light, I saw him differently. The quiet fire behind his words, the depth he carried but never showed. It made me adore him all the more than how I did back when he was only a character on some page.

“You know,” I said, careful to keep my tone light hearted, “you think about things differently than most people. Not like Darren, who always talks like he already has the answer to everything. And not like Historia either, who… well, everyone already sees her as perfect. You’re…” I hesitated, heat creeping into my cheeks. “You’re thoughtful in a way they’re not.”

His mismatched gaze flicked back to me, startled, as if no one had ever said such a thing before. “Thoughtful,” he echoed softly, almost tasting the word.

I nodded quickly, regretting nothing and everything all at once. “I mean it. I’ve always admired that about you.” Even if our worlds were different, you were always a person I cared and loved for, real or not…

The silence that followed stretched, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Maybe that was too bold of me to say. Maybe that was way out of character for Rosaria. But, before I could say anything to dismiss my words, slowly, his lips curved into something faint and fragile…. a smile.

“Admired… me?” His voice was quiet, like he was afraid saying it too loudly would break the moment.

My throat tightened. This was dangerous, but I couldn’t stop. “Yes. More than Darren, more than Historia. You always had this silent way about you... I wish you showed more often, Estel.”

His blue and silver eyes softened, and almost seemed to shine brighter under the lamplight. Color rose faintly to his cheeks before he looked away, embarrassed by his own reaction. “…You are the first to ever say such a thing.”

My chest squeezed, a bittersweet ache. I wanted to hold onto this moment, to carve it into stone so it could never fade. But it also scared me… because this wasn’t how the story was supposed to go. I was changing things, and I didn’t know what consequences that would bring. This world was already vastly different that any of the versions I had read, and the worry still ate at me, wondering what would happen this time around. What tragedy would befall Estel this time.

I was more than afraid, I was more than terrified. I was petrified. There were days I even got nightmares, remembering the horrors from ‘His Amour’, gasping for air as panic struck me, only to have me crying hours before school. Thankfully all students had their own student apartment, similar to my college in my old world. The last thing I would need is roommates thinking I was possessed or even corrupted by the darkness, considering the time period.

For the rest of the evening, the books between us became only half the reason we stayed. I asked questions I didn’t need to, just to keep him talking. He leaned in closer when he explained things, mismatched eyes flicking back to me every so often as though still puzzling over my words.

And somewhere between the flutter of pages and the glow of magical lamps, I realized just how easy it was to imagine a different story. One where Estel wasn’t Historia’s shadow. One where his smile wasn’t so rare. One where he was alive, living, breathing, like he was at this moment…

… And perhaps…

If I dare even dream…

…

…

…

One where he could be mine, instead of Historia’s.