Morning came quietly.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, pale and gentle, filling the room with a soft glow.
Kael was already awake.
Sleep had come, but not deeply. His mind had stayed restless, circling the same thoughts again and again.
He sat at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely clasped.
His gaze fell to his right hand.
The faint thread was still there.
Half-visible. Soft. Silent.
Stretching somewhere far beyond the walls.
He didn't try to touch it.
He just watched it quietly.
As if touching it might break something fragile…
Or make things too real, too fast.
Kael let out a slow breath.
"Focus…"
Today wasn't the time to get lost in feelings.
There were things he needed to figure out.
He stood up and got ready without wasting time.
The mansion was slowly waking — footsteps in the halls, doors opening, servants moving about their morning work.
But Kael's thoughts were already far away.
Old records. Hidden places. Answers people avoided giving.
If the truth was hidden, he would find it.
If memories were incomplete, he would piece them together.
And if danger stood in the way—
He would face it.
Because not knowing felt worse than fear.
Kael stepped into the study on the first floor.
Tall shelves lined the walls, and the morning light filtered quietly through the curtains.
He rang the bell once.
Moments later, the butler entered and bowed respectfully.
"Good morning, Young Master. Is there anything I can assist you with?"
Butler Ren's voice was calm and steady.
Kael gave a small nod.
"Mm… I need your help with something."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"But this must stay between us. My parents must not know. Not a word should reach them. No one else either."
Ren straightened slightly.
"…Understood."
Kael continued, his voice calm but firm.
"When I went to the northern mountains, we encountered two dangerous incidents. I want you to find out who was behind them."
Ren's expression changed instantly.
"Dangerous… incidents?"
"I need a quiet investigation," Kael went on. "Hire private knights. An investigation team. But everything must be done discreetly. No outside attention."
Ren frowned with concern.
"Young Master… you were in danger? Are you hurt?"
Kael shook his head lightly. "I'm fine."
"But why would anyone attack you?" Ren pressed.
"If the Old Master learns of this and realizes we hid it—he will be furious. And the Old Lady… she will be heartbroken."
Kael's voice softened.
"That's exactly why they mustn't know. I don't want them to worry. I can handle this."
He met Ren's eyes.
"So I'm trusting you to handle it carefully."
Ren fell silent.
He had served Kael since childhood.
Watched him grow.
Protected him.
Cared for him like family.
Refusing him was never easy.
"…Very well," he said at last. "I will arrange everything quietly."
Then he added, more firmly,
"But this time, I will assign private bodyguards to follow you."
Kael frowned. "That's not necessary—"
"It is," Ren interrupted gently but firmly.
"You said you've already faced two dangers. This is not something to take lightly. They will remain unseen. They will not interfere. But they will protect you."
Kael sighed.
He knew that tone.
Stubborn. Protective. Unshakable.
And… familiar.
To him, Ren was more like an uncle than a servant.
Someone he trusted without question.
After a moment, Kael gave in.
"…Alright."
Ren bowed slightly, relieved.
"Thank you, Young Master."
The butler bowed once more and quietly left the study.
The door clicked shut.
Kael exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair.
"…Now we wait for the results."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then he glanced at the clock.
It was time for the academy.
Outside the estate, a carriage waited near the gates.
Butler Ren stood beside it, hands folded neatly behind his back.
A few retainers stood nearby, alert and disciplined.
Ren inspected the carriage, then asked calmly,
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, Butler Ren," one retainer replied.
He hesitated, then added,
"But… may I ask something?"
Ren gave a small nod. "Speak."
The retainer glanced at the carriage.
"Why does the young master use this carriage?"
Ren adjusted his spectacles slightly. "Go on."
"There are many finer carriages in the estate. Larger. More stable. More suitable for his status. Yet he uses this one every day… especially when picking up that friend."
He continued carefully,
"This carriage isn't the most comfortable. The rides are less steady. If he's accompanying someone, shouldn't we prepare the best?"
Ren paused.
"Ahem…"
Then he said lightly,
"This carriage serves its purpose."
The retainer looked puzzled. "Purpose?"
Ren's lips curved faintly.
"It brings people closer."
"…Closer?"
"And helps the young master obtain what he wants."
The retainer blinked. "What does he want?"
Ren looked at him for a long second — half amused, half helpless.
"He was the one who chose this carriage," Ren said calmly.
"Said it felt… right."
A subtle pause.
"It brings them luck. And closeness. That is reason enough."
The retainer still looked confused.
Ren clapped his shoulder gently.
"That's enough questions."
His tone turned firm.
"The young master will arrive soon. Stay alert. Watch the surroundings. There may be hidden threats."
"We must ensure his safety at all times. Understood?"
"Yes, Butler Ren!"
"Good. Positions."
The retainers dispersed.
Footsteps approached.
Kael walked toward the gates.
"Is the carriage ready?" he asked.
"Yes, Young Master," Ren replied.
Kael stepped closer, then smirked faintly.
"You always know what I want… and make sure I get it. Hm?"
Ren adjusted his spectacles.
"Understanding the young master's wishes is a servant's duty. I simply fulfill it."
Kael gave a quiet huff of amusement.
"…Mm."
He entered the carriage.
Soon, it rolled forward through the estate gates.
The carriage stopped near the elite dormitory.
Kael stepped out and waited.
Students passed by in small groups, their chatter filling the morning air.
Then he saw him.
Elior.
Walking slowly. Calm. Looking better than yesterday.
At least he's fine… Kael thought, relief softening his gaze.
But Elior didn't look toward the carriage.
Didn't look at Kael.
He simply walked past—
as if Kael wasn't even there.
Kael blinked.
Surprised.
Before he could think twice, he stepped forward and grabbed Elior's arm.
Elior jolted. "—!"
Kael frowned.
"What? It's just one night and you've already forgotten me?"
He said it louder than he meant to.
A few nearby students turned.
Whispers. Suppressed smiles.
Elior's face turned red instantly.
He quickly covered Kael's mouth and whispered,
"What are you saying?! Everyone can hear!"
Kael pulled his hand away, still sulking.
Without another word, he guided Elior toward the carriage and helped him inside.
Once the door shut, the noise outside faded.
Kael crossed his arms."Why didn't you notice me?" he muttered."You walked right past like I was invisible."
He looked genuinely offended."You really didn't see me?"
Elior blinked, still flustered."I—I didn't mean that… I just didn't know you'd come to pick me up. I thought I'd walk on my own…"
Kael stared at him.
"When have I ever let you walk alone?"
His voice softened, but the pout remained.
"I drop you. I pick you up. I make sure you're safe."
Then he added quietly,"And you say you didn't expect me to come…"
He looked away slightly.
"That hurts more than you think."
Elior fell silent.
The teasing tone was gone.So was the drama.
What remained… was something honest.
He slowly lowered his gaze.
"…I'm sorry," he said softly.
His fingers tightened over his sleeve again — a small habit when he didn't know what to say.
"I just… didn't want to trouble you."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"And I didn't think… you'd always be there."
Kael looked at him.
Elior's cheeks were still faintly pink, but this time it wasn't embarrassment.
It was sincerity.
He gathered a little courage and looked up.
"…Thank you. For coming."
The words were simple.
But they settled gently between them.
Warm. Real.
Kael's expression eased.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward anymore.
It was comfortable.
Like something unspoken had finally been understood.
The carriage rocked gently along the stone road.
The space inside was narrow — close enough that distance felt unnecessary.
Their knees brushed once.
Neither moved.
Another turn.
Elior's balance slipped slightly.
Kael reached out on instinct and caught his wrist.
Warm skin under his palm.
"I've got you," he murmured.
His voice was low. Closer than before.
He didn't let go.
Not immediately.
His thumb shifted slightly —
resting where Elior's pulse fluttered.
Fast.
Kael felt it.
A faint smile touched his lips.
The carriage jolted again.
Elior leaned forward—
and Kael's hand settled at his waist to steady him.
Firm. Careful.
Like he was holding something precious.
For a breath-long moment, Elior stayed there.
Close enough to hear Kael breathe.
Close enough to feel warmth through layers of fabric.
Kael didn't move. Didn't speak.
If he did, the moment might break.
So he just stayed…
holding him gently,
as if this quiet closeness
was exactly why he had chosen this carriage.
Private guards followed at a distance, careful and unseen.
The carriage rolled through the academy gates and came to a gentle stop.
Kael stepped out first. Elior followed.
It had been a week since they last came here.
Yet nothing felt different.
Students moved along the paths, chatting quietly, pretending not to notice them.
No one greeted. No one stared too long.
Everyone knew Kael.
And most preferred to keep their distance.
Kael didn't mind. He was used to it.
The two walked toward their classroom together.
The room was already half full.
They went to their usual place — last row, last bench.
Kael took the right seat.
Elior sat on his left.
Elior's eyes drifted across the room.
Searching.
Front rows. Windowside seats. Doorway.
Not there.
Aevrin's seat was empty.
Elior's fingers tightened slightly around his sleeve.
His wounds… are they still not healed?
Did something happen…?
A quiet worry settled in his expression.
Kael noticed.
He didn't speak.
He just watched the way Elior kept glancing at the door…
as if waiting for someone who wasn't coming.
Something tugged softly in his chest.
Before he could think too much—
His hand moved.
It brushed lightly against Elior's waist.
Not firm.
Not rushed.
Just a gentle, lingering warmth through the fabric.
Close enough to feel.
Soft enough to pretend it meant nothing.
Elior stilled.
The touch was brief—
but it sent a faint shiver up his spine, like a quiet spark.
Kael felt it too.
That tiny moment of closeness.
That shared warmth.
That silent I'm here.
He withdrew his hand quickly.
"Ah— sorry," he said casually.
"My hand slipped. Didn't mean to."
Like it was nothing.
Like he hadn't chosen the moment.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes forward.
Calm and Composed.
But his fingers curled slightly against his sleeve.
Because he had meant it.
Not to tease.
Not to fluster.
Just to pull Elior out of his worry.
To ground him.
To remind him he wasn't alone.
Beside him, Elior blinked.
His thoughts scattered.
The tightness in his chest loosened.
The worry didn't vanish—
but it softened.
And Kael, quietly relieved, kept his gaze ahead.
The classroom door opened, and the professor walked in.
Everyone stood and greeted him respectfully.
He nodded, placing his materials on the desk.
"So, how did your assignments go? How is the progress with your partners?"
Students answered one by one.
Some spoke confidently, others shyly, but most shared that things were going well — practice sessions, mistakes, improvements, small victories.
The professor listened patiently.
"Good. Effort matters more than perfection."
Soon, the practical session began.
Each team stepped forward to perform their combat exercises.
Some showed clear improvement.
Some were still struggling.
But the professor praised them all.
"You've improved more than expected in such a short time," he said.
"And even if the results aren't perfect yet — you tried. That's important."
Encouragement softened the tense atmosphere.
Then—
"Our next team—"
He paused, checking the list.
"Aevrin is absent today…"
The class grew quieter.
"Alright," the professor continued, "Elior's team will perform tomorrow."
Kael and Elior exchanged a brief glance but said nothing.
Classes continued, and the day passed without incident.
By evening, the academy grounds slowly emptied.
Kael escorted Elior to the dormitory as usual.
Once Elior went inside, Kael returned to the carriage.
The wheels began to roll.
And he headed back to the mansion.
Night settled quietly.
Aevrin stood near a tall window, silver moonlight falling across his shoulders.
The room was calm, but his mind wasn't.
His body still hurt.
His strength hadn't fully returned.
Bandages were wrapped around his side beneath his shirt.
He could have gone to the academy today.
But he chose not to.
One reason was recovery.
The other… he didn't want to admit.
If he stayed away,
would Elior notice?
Would he glance at their usual seat and pause?
Would he wonder, "Why isn't Aevrin here today?"
Aevrin lowered his eyes.
It felt childish.
But feelings don't always listen to logic.
On the table nearby, several sealed letters rested.
Quiet orders had already been sent.
An investigation was moving in secret.
The people who hurt Elior—
Aevrin would find them.
And when he did,
they would pay.
He took a slow breath.
"…I need to clear my head."
His thoughts had been messy lately.
His ocran magic felt unstable.
Emotions kept distracting him.
He needed focus.
Calm.
Control.
Against the wall rested a long sword case.
Inside lay his spirit sword.
He hadn't used it in years.
Not since he was eleven.
There had been a small swordsmanship tournament.
At first, he didn't even want to join.
It felt minor. Not worth his time.
Then he heard—
Elior was attending.
He had come as a guest with his father,
one of the chief judges.
That was enough.
Aevrin entered the tournament with one quiet goal:
Win.
His opponents were strong.
Many were trained by famous sword masters.
Some came from warrior families with real battle experience.
But Aevrin had prepared in his own way.
He had personally chosen his master—
Master Caelum Verin, highest-ranking swordmaster of the Royal Knights.
A respected man. Calm. Humble. Extremely skilled.
Training under him was harsh.
It broke Aevrin's pride.
Then rebuilt his strength.
On the day of the match,
Aevrin stepped into the arena with steady breath and a clear mind.
Every strike was precise.
Every step controlled.
Every movement carried quiet determination.
He didn't fight for fame.
He didn't fight for applause.
He fought for one reason.
When the final strike landed,
silence filled the arena.
Dust drifted through the air.
The crowd slowly came back into focus.
Aevrin lifted his eyes toward the royal seats.
Searching.
Just one pair of familiar eyes.
Just one moment of recognition.
Just one sign that he had been seen.
Back in the present, moonlight reflected in the window.
Aevrin closed his eyes slowly.
That memory still had no answer.
And tonight,
the silence felt the same.
—by Aurea;"Some hearts ask to be seen.
Others stay away, hoping to be missed.
And love lives quietly between those two wishes."