Chapter 14: Answers

The courtyard buzzed with nervous energy.

Students milled about in scattered groups—some pacing, others whispering, a few sitting alone on the stone benches with blank stares and bouncing knees. I couldn’t tell whether they were praying, panicking, or just too exhausted to care.

Rias stood beside me, arms crossed, chin tilted upward as if she were listening to the breeze.

“You nervous?” I asked.

She smirked faintly. “Not particularly. But you’re bouncing your leg.”

I glanced down. Damn. I hadn’t even noticed.

Before I could reply, a boy and girl stepped into our corner of the courtyard—two very distinct figures, both about our age.

The boy had short, jet-black hair streaked with crimson. His eyes, strange and shimmering, shifted subtly through the colors of the rainbow like oil on water. He wore the standard testing robes, but his sleeves were slightly frayed, and his hands remained buried in his pockets. His posture was slightly hunched, like he wanted to disappear entirely.

Beside him walked a girl with soft golden hair that fell in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were a striking amber-yellow, focused and sharp, like they saw more than she ever said. She moved with purpose—graceful, measured, as if even standing still was part of a choreographed dance.

Rias turned her head slightly toward them. “Someone’s coming.”

The girl offered a polite bow, refined but not forced. “Pardon the interruption. You two wouldn’t happen to be Arthur and Rias, would you?”

I blinked. “Uh, yeah. That’s us.”

The boy stayed silent, but gave a curt nod.

“I’m Seraphine Elandor,” the girl continued, her voice clear and smooth like running water. “And this is Caelan Morvain. We were near the front of the testing queue earlier. After what you did to the boulder… well, word spreads fast.”

Rias tilted her head. “Did I pass?”

Seraphine chuckled lightly. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t, and you, Arthur—your spellwork was elegant. Unusual, but elegant.”

“Thanks,” I said, still trying to gauge them.

Caelan finally spoke, his voice low and dry. “They broke the boulder. You saw it too?”

Seraphine smiled faintly. “Yes. And you muttered about how inefficient the reinforcement runes were.”

“They were,” Caelan muttered, arms still crossed. “The boulder wasn’t calibrated to withstand enhanced strikes. Poor enchantment work if you ask me.”

“I take it you two are already friends?” I asked.

“Since childhood,” Seraphine said without hesitation. “He handles the brooding. I handle the talking.”

That got a slight grunt from Caelan, which I assumed was his version of agreement.

“Our noble houses go way back,” Caelan said tiredly.

Just then, a bell rang somewhere in the courtyard, and students began to move toward a tall bulletin board near the edge of the stone steps. Sheets of parchment had been nailed to the board in organized rows.

“Results,” Caelan murmured, already walking.

We followed.

Sure enough, dozens of names were listed in fine script—some crossed out, others stamped with a wax seal of acceptance. I scanned the list quickly until I found it:

Arthur Fenrir – Passed

Rias Fenrir – Passed

Caelan Morvain – Passed

Seraphine Elandor – Passed

A surge of relief hit me like warm water. I turned to Rias, and she gave the faintest smile—subtle, but proud.

Seraphine looked toward a nearby professor waving slips of parchment. “Those are for our school uniforms,” she said. “Come. We’ll need one to get fitted.”

The four of us made our way over. The professor handed each of us a signed slip with our name and year on it.

“One-time issue,” he said. “Take it to Eryndale’s Tailoring just off the third ring. They’ll take your measurements and be done by the evening.”

With our slips in hand, we left the academy grounds and followed the polished road toward the city.

For the first time, I noticed how vibrant this part of Wolfhiem really was.

Floating lanterns danced in the air above us, glowing with shifting colors. Shops lined the curved streets—bookstores, apothecaries, rune-smiths, and magical cafés where people used bender techniques to serve their food. Plates of food floated on mana-infused wires.

Eryndale’s Tailoring stood at the corner of a quiet plaza. It was a tall, narrow building with silver trim and enchanted mannequins standing in the windows. The sign above the door read “Eryndale’s: Enchantment in Every Stitch.”

Inside, the shop smelled of silk, cedarwood, and flowers. An older elf with silver thread woven into his braid greeted us with a nod.

“Slips?” he asked crisply.

We handed over the slips. He looked them over, muttered something to a hovering quill, and sent us into separate fitting rooms. Within moments, floating measuring ribbons wrapped around my arms and legs, taking notes in a hovering book nearby.

“I feel like a prize pig,” I muttered as the ribbons tugged at my sleeves.

When we stepped back outside, the sun had shifted slightly westward.

“Clothes’ll be ready in a few hours,” Caelan said, clearly quoting the tailor.

Seraphine glanced at the sky. “Plenty of time. Shall we take a walk?”

We wandered through the city, passing magical musicians, crystal vendors, and students from other academies showing off magic. I couldn’t help but glance up at the towering spires of the noble districts. Somewhere, beyond them… the palace waited.

And then—

Movement.

Out of the corner of my eye, a familiar shape caught my attention.

There.

Black clothes. Pale hands. A gliding presence slipping into a nearby alley.

My heart skipped a beat.

“…I’ll catch up,” I said, already stepping away from the group.

Rias turned slightly. “Arthur?”

“I’ll be right back.”

And with that, I followed her—into the shadows.

“We meet again, boy,” she said with a faint smile.

I took a cautious step forward, my voice low. “Why is it that only I can see you?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well,” she paused, “it could be a couple of reasons.”

“Like what?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

She raised a single pale finger. “One—you are marked for death. Two—you are favored by a god. Or three… your death is near.”

My throat tightened. “How near?”

She gave a shrug that felt both graceful and cruel. “Could be years. Could be months. Heed my words carefully, boy—if it’s the second one, if you’re favored by a god… then you’ll be seeing more of us.”

“Us?” I echoed, confused.

“Us gods,” she said, her tone laced with certainty—as if the word should carry weight enough to shatter mountains.

I stared at her. “If you’re really a god… then what’s your name?”

Her eyes gleamed, and for a moment, the alley seemed to grow colder.

“You could say,” she whispered, “that I am the god of death.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “So you’re saying… you’re death. And two of the three reasons I can see you… mean I’m going to die?”

She looked at me—not cruelly, but with something worse: pity.

“If you are marked,” she said, “then a god… or a curse… will end your life someday. And if it’s the third reason—well, that can still be avoided. But only if you’re strong enough to overcome whatever’s coming.”

Her voice was calm, distant—like someone reciting fate from memory.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she raised a hand.

“I don’t have time to explain more,” she said softly. “But we will see each other again.”

And just like that—she vanished.

No sound. No flash of light. Just gone.

I stood there, my heart pounding, the weight of her words pressing down on my chest like stone.

Three paths. One truth.

Marked for death? Unlikely… right?

Which left the other two—but which one was real?

Why would a god favor me?

Or worse… who would want me dead?

The thoughts spiraled, faster and faster, until—

“Arthur, what are you doing?”

Rias’s voice cut through the fog. I turned to see her standing at the edge of the alley, worry etched across her face.

Before I could find the right words to explain what just happened, Henry’s voice broke the silence behind me.

“Sir, it should be about time to head back and collect your uniforms.”

“Right,” I said, shaking off the lingering tension. I followed him out of the alley, where we quickly found Caelan and Seraphine waiting near the tailor shop’s entrance.

“Arthur,” Seraphine called with a bright smile. “Where did you run off to?”

Caelan gave me a tired look. “You vanished.”

“Oh—uh, I thought I recognized someone, but it turned out to be no one,” I replied with a smile I hoped looked casual. I prayed they wouldn’t press further.

Seraphine tilted her head but let it go. “I see.”

“I guess we should get our uniforms now,” Rias added, sounding slightly impatient.

We stepped inside. The elf behind the counter simply pointed toward a shelf where neatly folded uniforms sat beneath small slips of paper—each labeled with our names.

As I reached for mine, Seraphine’s gaze caught on the tag above it.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Wait… Fenrir?” She looked between Rias and me, then back again. “Are you two… related to the royal family?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess you could say that,” I said, laughing nervously.

She stared at us a moment longer, as if trying to spot some hidden royal resemblance. “Huh. The more you know. Honestly, I assumed you were just… rich commoners or something.”

She said it so bluntly I nearly choked.

“I guess it makes sense now,” she continued, “why Caelan over here was quietly losing his mind about how much mana you both had.”

“I was not losing my mind,” Caelan muttered, cheeks turning a distinct shade of red. “I was… surprised. That’s all.”

Seraphine gave him a teasing look. “You muttered for ten minutes about every student you saw—saying their mana levels and whether they’d pass.”

“I was analyzing them,” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “I can’t help it. It’s these damn eyes.”

Still flustered, he crossed his arms, clearly trying to bury his embarrassment.

Rias chuckled. “Well, I guess we all have our secrets.”

We stepped out of Eryndale’s Tailoring into the amber light of late afternoon, our new uniforms folded neatly in enchanted wrapping to keep them fresh and clean. The air carried the scent of warm bread and something sweet—berries maybe—as the marketplace nearby bustled with students, travelers, and vendors.

“Well,” Seraphine said with a small smile, adjusting her package under one arm. “I suppose we should head back too.”

“Yeah,” Caelan muttered, already looking like he wanted to vanish into a shadow.

“I guess this is goodbye for now,” Rias said.

Seraphine tilted her head. “For now. We’ll see you tomorrow, won’t we?”

I nodded. “Yeah. School starts in the morning. We’ll meet you both there.”

Caelan raised a hand lazily in parting, and Seraphine gave a final wave as they turned down a different street, their silhouettes disappearing into the crowd.

“Are you ready?” Henry asked as he stepped up beside us.

I looked down at the uniform in my hands. “As I’ll ever be.”

We walked back to the school, where our carriage was waiting.

We climbed back into the waiting carriage, the city slowly fading behind us as we rolled toward the black stone gates of the palace. The guards bowed as we passed, and the doors were already open by the time we stepped out onto the main terrace.

Inside, the halls were quiet again. Gilded light streamed through the tall windows, casting gold across the obsidian floor.

A servant met us at the entrance. “His Majesty is expecting you.”

We followed him back to the great hall, where King Oscar sat on a cushioned bench near the window, wrapped in a dark velvet cloak, his cane resting beside him.

He looked up and smiled. “I take it things went well?”

“We passed,” I said simply.

Rias gave a soft nod beside me. “They said our class placements will be posted tomorrow morning.”

The King’s smile widened. “Excellent. I never had any doubt.”

He tapped his cane lightly against the floor. “Then tomorrow shall be a day of beginnings. Not only for your education… but for the kingdom.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward. “The world will know what I’ve already accepted—that you are Orpheus’s son. That the crown now has a rightful heir.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I will send word to the major press houses tonight,” he continued, voice calm but firm. “By tomorrow morning, every newspaper across the kingdom will bear the news. The Crown Prince of Dival has been named.”

I swallowed, unsure what to say.

Rias reached for my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re ready.”

The King nodded with approval. “Good. Then the people will be ready too.”

He gestured for Henry. “Please help them prepare their things. They’ll be moving into the academy dorms at first light.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Henry said with a small bow.

Oscar leaned back, a far-off look in his eyes. “Rest well tonight, both of you. Tomorrow… your new lives begin.”