Another Way Forward

Kai walked the corridor in silence. This wing of the academy, lined with staff quarters and restricted archives, rarely saw student footsteps. The emptiness wasn’t just peaceful; it was protection. No stares. No whispers.

His gaze stayed forward, shoulders tucked in, every step small and careful. Blending in was easier here. Safer.

It had been a month since he last bumped into Rose.

Literally.

The memory lingered as he adjusted the scroll under his arm. That day—the tumble of books, her quiet, amused smile, the undeserved kindness in her voice—stayed with him more than the rumors that followed.

Rumors he never asked for. That he’d tried something vile. That he’d defiled the white cloak. Lies born of envy.

Neither of them knew of it until much later. Still, Kai changed his route the very next day.

The academy’s main library sat on the public side of campus, where stairwells echoed and eyes followed him. So he began taking the longer path—through the faculty wing, past abandoned classrooms and cobbled annex halls—just to retrieve his readings in peace.

Today was no different.

Except, instead of his usual armful of tomes, he carried only one scroll.

It was odd. Thin, almost brittle. Inside were illustrations—sketches not of spells or sigils but of cells, strands, something biological. It looked like medical research. Numbers filled the margins, repeating symbols scrawled near the bottom. Only one word in the corner was legible: Doc…

Doctor? Doctrine? Documented?

He wasn’t sure. Only that it felt… different. And that was reason enough to hold onto it.

As he turned into the arched hall by the administrative wing, voices reached him. Male. One older, measured. Another younger, yet strangely familiar. Kai slowed.

He stopped beside a polished plaque of gold set into the wall:

Dean Roderic.

“Have you managed to find anyone that interests you?” the older voice asked.

A pause. Then a girl’s voice—careful, uncertain.
“…No.”

“That’s all right. We have time. You’ve only been here a month.”

“Yeah…”

“As you know, we at Caelera Academy—along with your parents’ full support—are here at your disposal.”

Silence.

Kai instinctively stepped back, preparing to retreat.

Footsteps. Quick. Approaching.

The doors burst open. He turned just as the scroll nearly slipped from his hand.

And there she was.

Rose.

She froze, her ocean eyes widening in recognition.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Kai dipped his head. “I—I’m sorry. I was only passing through. I didn’t hear anything.” His voice cracked.

She tilted her head, unfazed. “That? I don’t care. How are you? Kai, right?”

“…Yes.”

A grin. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Thought you might’ve fallen into a ditch.” She laughed softly.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Her gaze drifted to the scroll.
“What’s that?”

He nearly hugged it to his chest. “Just… a scroll I found. Odd contents. I was going to look it over by the—”

“The willow tree?” she finished for him.

His eyes shot up, then back down.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked. Light tone. Sincere.

Kai hesitated. "...Sure.”

The word sounded less certain than it was.

“I’m glad,” Rose said, smiling.

Her white cloak gleamed as she stepped to his side. Up close, he realized she was his height. Her long black hair framed her face, and her eyes studied him with quiet anticipation—as if she was just as curious about him as she was about the scroll.

“Shall we?” she asked.

He nodded, turning toward the path ahead. Together, they walked toward the willow.

The courtyard opened before them.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you could get here this way. Through the teacher’s quarters, no less. Seems a little… inefficient.”

Kai said nothing, only lifted a hand to point across the field.

Beneath swaying branches, the willow tree came into view.

Walking across the courtyard’s freshly cut grass, they came to the willow’s base. The shade offered little against the midday sun, but Kai lowered himself to his usual spot, balancing the scroll across his crossed legs. Rose remained standing for a moment, careful of her robes, before leaning closer behind him.

For a time, neither spoke. Only parchment crackled as Kai unrolled the scroll. Strange diagrams sprawled across the surface — threads and cells, looping symbols repeating with no clear pattern.

Rose leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Not magical theory,” she murmured. “At least, not the kind they teach us. This looks like… deterioration studies. Decay. Maybe even—” She stopped, tapping a sketched outline of a figure, strands branching from its chest. “Stabilizers?”

Kai’s shoulders stiffened.

“You know how it goes,” she added lightly, though her tone held weight. “First year, the signs start creeping in. Sluggish strength. Dulled reflexes. Fatigue that clings no matter how much you rest. By the second half…” She trailed off, smiling faintly. “Well. You’ve heard the warnings.”

Kai swallowed. “…I’ve heard.”

Her gaze lingered on him. “You don’t have a tether, do you?”

He shook his head. “No one would tether with me. I’m weak. Even for a stabilizer. I’m on nobody’s radar.” He tried to sound calm, but the words cracked at the end.

For an instant, her smile slipped. Then it returned, too quick, too bright. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” Her finger reached for the face of the scroll. It brushed across the symbols slowly. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Kai glanced at her, uncertain.

Rose straightened herself, pulling herself back a step. “Maybe there’s another way forward. Until I find it, I’ll bear the search myself.”

The words drifted strangely between them — light in tone, heavy in meaning. She reached for a hanging leaf, her voice quieter. “I… I don’t think it’s fair.”

Kai gripped the parchment tighter. She was right. In this world, both stabilizers and casters lost if they failed to tether by sixteen. That was what every lecture drilled in, what every book confirmed. The academy itself existed for that one purpose.

Rose spun back toward him suddenly, cloak flaring. “Anyway, Kai, enough of that. Shame the scroll didn’t give us much.” She leaned closer with a half-smile.

“I’m searching for a way!” Kai suddenly blurted.

Rose’s eyes widened. His timidness had vanished in a flash, replaced with raw determination, or desperation.

“I don’t want to die…” His voice broke softer now, his gaze dropping — a reminder of who she was. A white cloak.

“You can talk to me, Kai.” Her response was firm, almost commanding.

“I believe we share the same goal,” she continued, pausing only a heartbeat before finishing. “Except… I want to do it for everyone.”

The words stunned him. To succeed would mean standing against the world itself.

Her expression was unwavering, her voice carrying the full weight of that claim. She would bear the burden alone. But could she?

“Try not to drop anything else, Kai.” She turned and walked away, a hand in the air waving as her robes caught the sun in a sweep of white.

From across the courtyard, half-hidden in the colonnade, Jade watched. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Rose beneath the willow with that same boy.

That boy again?

Her hands clenched at her sides. She stayed silent, watching as Rose walked away from the tree — the image settling like a splinter she could not shake.