INSIDE one of the private rooms within the Celestial Academy, a heavy atmosphere hung in the air. The usually bright chamber felt dim and quiet, as though even the walls were holding their breath.
Seated on one side of the room were Theo and Theara, huddled together on a velvet couch, their expressions tense and filled with questions. Raon sat on another couch beside them, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers tightly interlocked. Louisa, one of Hierra's younger sisters, sat gracefully on a couch across from them. In contrast to the others, her demeanor was calm and unreadable. With a porcelain cup of steaming coffee in her hand, she sipped slowly, her eyes silently studying each of them, as though she were observing a game about to unfold.
Pierro, on the other hand, was by the window. He hadn't spoken a word since they all gathered. His arms were crossed over his chest, gaze distant, as if searching for something beyond the clouds. His stance was rigid, like a soldier waiting for war.
The silence stretched for minutes, broken only by the occasional clink of Louisa's cup meeting its saucer.
Louisa tilted her head and raised a brow. With a small amused smirk, she broke the silence. "Why do all of you look so nervous? It's just a meeting." Her voice was teasing, but beneath it was a subtle challenge — like she enjoyed watching them squirm.
Theara shot her a cold glare, one that would've made a lesser girl falter. She knew Louisa too well — her cunning smile, her watchful eyes. Louisa was a predator, waiting for Hierra to slip so she could pounce and take everything her sister held dear.
"You're not helping, Louisa," Raon said firmly, though his tone remained calm. Still, there was weight in his voice, a quiet command that couldn't be ignored.
Louisa only chuckled and took another sip of her coffee, clearly unaffected.
"I didn't come here to help."
Theara's fingers curled into her sleeves. Her brother Theo noticed immediately. He turned his head slightly toward Raon, as if he were about to ask a question, but his eyes narrowed subtly when he saw Raon looking at Theara with an unreadable expression.
Raon immediately looked away, avoiding Theo's gaze. Theo frowned. There was something strange in the way Raon had been acting lately — especially around his sister.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the loud creak of the wooden door swinging open.
Hierra entered the room.
Her steps were quick, her shoulders tense, her jaw set. Her olive green eyes were stormy, and her whole presence pulsed with frustration. The door shut behind her with a solid thud. No one dared to speak at first. Even Louisa straightened a little.
Pierro was the one who took a step forward.
"What is it?" he asked, his tone calm but direct. His ruby-red eyes held hers steadily.
Hierra glanced at everyone. Theo, Theara, Raon, Louisa — all watching her, waiting. She hesitated. The words sat on the edge of her tongue, burning.
And then she dropped the truth like a dagger.
"They want Professor Clint expelled from Celestial Castle."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Then Raon stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floor.
"What? Why?" he demanded, shocked.
Theara gasped beside him, and Theo furrowed his brows.
All three of them now stood, facing Hierra.
She walked to the table and slowly sat down, pressing her palms together as if trying to keep herself from trembling.
"Because he told us about the Ninth Elites," she said. Her voice was low, controlled. "He signed an oath… a royal agreement. He promised he would never speak of what happened to them in the Cursed Forest."
Pierro turned away, fists clenched. Theara moved closer to Theo, her mind racing.
"But…" Theara began, confused, "he's been talking about the Cursed Forest for years. He's told us many things. Why now?"
Hierra sighed heavily and ran her fingers down her face in frustration.
"Because the four kingdoms didn't know he was teaching again," she said, the bitterness clear in her tone. "Not until recently."
Raon frowned. "Then why let him teach in the first place?"
"Because High Enchantress Ramieya allowed him," Hierra answered. "She gave him permission to speak about the forest — but only the basics. Only what's already known to the public. Not… that." Her voice faltered.
"Not the Ninth Elites," Pierro finished for her, still facing the window.
No one spoke for a moment. The weight of that revelation settled thick in the air like fog.
Raon slowly sat down again, his brows furrowed deeply.
"They're hiding something," he muttered. "High Enchantress Ramieya. The kingdoms. All of them."
Theo nodded slowly. "They've been hiding the truth for years."
"And now they want to silence the one man brave enough to speak it," Pierro added, finally turning to face them.
Louisa let out a short laugh, almost bitter.
"Well, isn't this academy just full of secrets?" she said, raising her cup once more.
But no one laughed with her.
Each of them was already drawing the same conclusion in their minds.
The Ninth Elites had been sacrificed for something bigger. Something the kingdoms and the High Enchantress were still trying to keep buried.
***
THEY were deep in thought when a knight entered, bowing slightly as he delivered the message.
"Your families are requesting your presence."
One by one, they stepped out of the room in silence, each carrying their own swirling emotions.
Theo and Theara followed their assigned knight through the grand hallway, hearts pounding with unease.
They didn't know exactly how to feel—but one thing was certain.
They needed answers and more than that they wanted to protect Professor Clint.
"I'm going to beg Dad to help Professor Clint," Theara said firmly, her fists clenched. Her voice carried determination. "What's happening to him is so unfair."
"Of course," Theo replied with a small nod. Theara smiled. "Don't worry, I'll back you up," he added.
When they reached the chamber where their father was waiting, the large door creaked open.
Their father, King Rydon of Wearo, greeted them with a warm smile. On one side of the room sat Dyton, their eldest brother, silent and composed as always.
As soon as Theara entered, their father stood and embraced her tightly.
They took their seats across from Dyton. The king turned to Theo with a gentle voice, "How have you been, my son?"
"As usual, Dad. Everything's fine," Theo replied politely.
"I'm glad to hear that," their father said, still smiling.
But despite the cheerful greeting, a heavy silence followed. Then their father spoke again, scattering the silence. His smile was soft but knowing. "I can tell you both have questions," he said. He was giving them permission to speak freely.
Theo took a deep breath, "Dad… I don't understand. Why does Professor Clint have to be removed from Celestial Academy?"
"He didn't do anything wrong—he just told us what he experienced," Theara quickly added.
Their father didn't respond right away. Instead, he exchanged a silent look with Dyton.
Dyton finally broke the silence and answered their questions. "Your Professor Clint… was cursed," he said seriously. "He may have escaped the Cursed Forest, but he didn't escape what it left behind."
The twins froze, their mouths slightly open. That was something neither of them knew—and clearly, none of the Elites—Raon, Hierra, and Pierro—did either.
Their father sighed deeply, leaning back. "Clint made an oath to us," he said slowly, "that he would never speak of the Ninth Elites to anyone—not a word, not even the smallest detail." He stared off into the distance, lost in thought. "In return," he continued, "the High Enchantress agreed to help him remove the curse that clung to him."
Theara was about to protest, but Dyton cut her off. "But he broke that oath, Theara. By telling you about the Ninth Elites… he violated the agreement."
Theo leaned forward, his voice firm with meaning. "But all he shared was what they went through… Are you hiding something from us, Dad?"
There was a pause. Their father's expression didn't change.
"I'm not hiding anything, my children," he said calmly. "But an oath is still an oath. No matter the reason, breaking it has consequences."
"But why did he have to take that oath in the first place?" Theara snapped, her voice laced with frustration. "He has every right to tell us what happened to him."
The king's tone lowered, but it carried weight. "Because of the curse, Theara." Theo and Theara were still puzzled; they were confused and didn't understand—not even a little. "That's all you need to know for now. Please… don't try to dig further into this." His eyes were pleading now—not with anger, but with a father's fear—fear that his children might uncover truths too heavy to carry.
What Theara had planned—to ask for her father's help—was lost in that moment.
Instead of support, they were asked to let go… to stay silent.
"You understand me, don't you?" their father asked, voice calm but final.
Theo and Theara wanted to press further—but something in their father's face told them the conversation was over.
"Yes," Theo finally said, voice low.
"Me too," Theara muttered reluctantly, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in Dyton's direction. Dyton simply returned her glare with an unreadable expression.
Their father smiled softly and began talking with them about other matters—ordinary things, nothing about Professor Clint or the Ninth Elites ever mentioned again.
But the silence left behind by what was unsaid… lingered.
***
RAON walked behind the knights, each step feeling heavier than the last. His heart pounded with quiet dread. He didn't want to face his father—not now, not ever—but he had no choice. What weighed on him most was the thought of his older brother, Aris, who was surely with the king and his younger sister, Lori.
The king was hiding Lori from him, keeping her out of reach, like a hostage chained by silence and obedience. Raon knew the cruel truth—if he refused to obey, the king would once again vent his rage on Aris. And worse, he would hide Lori even deeper in the shadows, out of Raon's grasp.
He clenched his fists tightly.
He had no power to disobey.
At the grand door leading to the royal chamber, the knight who escorted him gave a respectful bow before stepping away in silence. Raon stood alone before the towering doors, his breath catching in his throat. After a long, heavy inhale, he pushed them open and stepped inside
"Greetings, Your Majesty," he said softly, his tone respectful but void of warmth.
The room was steeped in cold silence. By the tall glass window stood his father—King Artu—holding a half-lit cigarette between two fingers. Smoke curled upward, wafting toward the ceiling like a whisper of decay. A few feet away stood Aris, quiet and still. There was no emotion in his eyes, no spark in his presence. A faint bruise marred the corner of his lip.
Raon's chest tightened.
Did Father hurt him again?
His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. But he quickly forced them to relax as the king turned to face him.
King Artu's gaze was sharp, like a hawk watching prey. He was studying Raon's reaction, hungry for any sign of weakness. Raon knew the game. He kept his expression blank, unreadable.
"I've heard you've been spending a lot of time in the Celestial Library," the king said, his voice cool but edged with threat.
Raon swallowed hard.
How did he know that? His mind reeled. Who told him? Who's watching me?
"As I've told you before, Raon," the king continued, flicking ash into a silver tray, "I have eyes in every corner of the Celestial Academy. Every move you make... every breath... is known to me."
There was no mistaking the warning in his voice.
Still, Raon remained standing tall, his spine straight despite the weight pressing down on his shoulders. Inside, a storm of rage, fear, and helplessness churned violently—but on the outside, he was ice.
"You must learn your place, Raon," his father said, his tone turning condescending.
"I understand, Your Majesty," Raon answered in a calm, controlled voice.
But the next words pierced through the silence like a dagger.
"If I find out you've been asking around about the Ninth Elites again… you know exactly what will happen."
Then, with a chilling smirk tugging at the edge of his lips, the king added, "Your sister, Lori, sends her regards."
Raon's eyes widened involuntarily.
The king saw the reaction and smiled wider. He knew he had him.
He's using Lori again… Holding her hostage like a leash around Raon's neck and it worked every time.
The king stubbed out his cigarette with a slow, deliberate motion, the ember hissing out as it met the cool porcelain.
"I'll take my leave," he said casually, walking toward the door. But just before stepping out, he turned his head slightly. "Remember, Raon… I have eyes everywhere."
As the door shut behind him, silence filled the room once more.
Aris, still standing near the window, walked past Raon and gave him a small nod and a soft smile—a silent message.
I'm okay. Don't worry.
But Raon could see through it. He could see the fatigue lining his brother's eyes, the way his body sagged under invisible weight. Aris was breaking and there was nothing Raon could do.
Now alone in the room, Raon clenched his fists again—tighter this time. Rage surged through his veins, bitter and searing. But he couldn't release it. He couldn't scream. Couldn't fight. Couldn't protect the people he loved.
That kingdom is a cage!! he thought bitterly. And our father… is the warden.
He looked toward the window where Aris had stood, and the fury inside him burned brighter.
One day, he promised silently, I will tear down this cage.
***
HIERRA wandered through the dimly lit corridor of the Celestial Academy, her steps slow and unfocused. Her mind was far from the present moment, tangled in the memories of the intense meeting she had just witnessed—one that still felt unreal. The air was heavy with the weight of the decision made by the High Enchantress Ramieya and the gathered council. As one of the royal heirs, Hierra had been summoned to attend the meeting. And though she tried to maintain her composure throughout the gathering, her heart had been pounding against her chest.
She could still remember the cold silence that had blanketed the chamber as the leaders voiced their unanimous decision.
Professor Clint must be expelled.
Everyone was firm. Unshaken. Determined.
Yet, in the middle of that harsh judgment, Professor Clint had stood still, quiet, and unreadable—his expression calm, almost detached, as if he had already known this would be his fate. His silence had unsettled Hierra deeply.
"Did Professor Clint already expect this?" she asked herself again, the question echoing inside her skull like a whisper in a cave.
Her feet moved on their own until a voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.
"We've arrived, Princess."
The knight at her side stood straight, offering her a respectful bow before turning and walking away. She blinked, coming back to her senses, and faced the grand wooden doors before her. She could already feel the storm waiting on the other side. A sigh escaped her lips, slow and weary, as she gathered her courage and gently pushed the door open.
The room beyond was large and austere, lit by soft flames in floating orbs that hovered along the walls. At the far end sat King Kero, her father, with an unreadable expression carved into stone. The chill in the air was immediate.
Not even a heartbeat later, the door behind her opened again, this time with a more confident presence. Louisa walked in like a queen in her own court, wearing a smirk that dripped with mockery. Her long, black hair swayed behind her as she sauntered toward the right-hand seat beside the king and sat without a word, her eyes dancing with silent amusement.
"Take a seat, Hierra," King Kero ordered, his voice like ice breaking over a still lake—cold, commanding, and leaving no room for refusal.
Hierra drew in a slow breath, her posture straightening. Her father had drilled discipline into her since childhood, and she knew better than to show any hint of weakness now. She crossed the room with elegance and precision, her long cloak sweeping behind her, and sat across from him.
"Greetings, Father," she said respectfully, her voice even, rehearsed.
But her words met silence.
King Kero said nothing in return. Instead, he lifted a delicate porcelain teacup to his lips and took a slow sip. His piercing eyes never left hers, filled with a quiet storm she knew too well. Her father didn't need to raise his voice to convey his anger. He was a master of control—and Hierra could feel the fury simmering beneath the surface.
Finally, he set his cup down with a faint clink that sounded louder than thunder in the tension-strained silence.
"What did I tell you before you returned to Celestial Academy?" he asked, his tone calm, devoid of any emotion—yet all the more terrifying because of it.
Hierra hesitated. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
His eyes narrowed.
"I asked you a question, Hierra." His voice echoed across the chamber, sharp and biting. The air grew colder.
"Behave and learn," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down for a moment. She was not just ashamed—she was scared. She had seen firsthand how cold and cruel her father could become when disappointed.
"Then why didn't you follow that?" he snapped, this time laced with unfiltered anger. The restrained fury finally slipped through his iron composure.
"I am training properly, Dad!" she shot back, the words escaping her before she could stop them. Her tone had a note of desperation, of defiance—but it only fanned the flames of his wrath.
"You dare talk back to me?" His tone dropped, low and dangerous. His face remained eerily still, but his voice carried enough menace to make the shadows in the room shift. "This is my final warning, Hierra. If I hear even a whisper of something improper or foolish connected to you again, you are coming back to the palace. No more questions. No more mercy. You will complete your training under my eye, in my kingdom, where you can be watched and molded properly."
His words struck like iron shackles closing around her freedom.
Without another glance, he stood, his cape billowing behind him as he strode toward the door. Louisa followed him with an arrogant sway in her steps but not before pausing beside Hierra.
"Good luck, sis," she sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "You'll need it."
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Hierra alone in the room.
She sat still for a long moment, her fists clenched tightly around the arms of the couch, nails digging into the fabric. Her chest heaved with quiet rage and frustration. Hot tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Why? Why does he always control everything?
She wanted to scream. To fight. But she couldn't. No matter how strong or capable she became, in the eyes of her father, she would always be a daughter meant to obey, to behave and to perfect herself according to his standards.
She hated how powerless she felt. Hated that no matter how far she had come, one meeting with her father was enough to remind her of her place.
Be a good daughter. Cause no commotion. Focus on training. That's all he wants. That's all he'll ever see in me.
But deep inside Hierra… something stirred—quiet but relentless.
She wasn't going to be caged forever.
Not even by her own blood.
***
PIERRO clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his nails digging into his palms. He stood still in front of the heavy double doors leading to his father's private chamber, his chest rising and falling with restrained emotion.
He knew.
His father knew.
He had no doubt that the King of Pyro Kingdom was already aware of what he had done—of how he had encouraged Professor Clint to speak up, how his carefully placed questions had sparked the courage in the professor to unveil the truth during their lesson. Pierro's only intent had been to reveal what was being hidden, especially from the other elites—Hierra, Raon, and Theara. They needed to know the truth.
That it wasn't the Ninth Elites who should've been sent into the Cursed Forest—it should've been them.
They had the power. They had the skill. But someone manipulated the decision and Pierro was determined to expose it.
Taking a deep breath to steady the storm swirling in his chest, he opened the door without knocking and stepped into the dimly lit room.
The silence that greeted him was short-lived.
SMACK!
A sharp, deafening slap landed on the side of Pierro's face before he could even greet his father. The force of it made his head snap sideways, and he tasted blood on his tongue as it dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"This is your fault!" his father thundered.
Pierro's jaw tightened as he straightened his stance, not wiping the blood off his lips. He stood tall, refusing to flinch. He locked eyes with the King—his father—and didn't look away.
The room bore signs of the king's fury. A shattered porcelain vase lay on the floor, pieces scattered like broken trust. A toppled teacup stained the velvet carpet with dark amber liquid. The air was thick with tension and scorched pride.
In the far corner of the room stood Luki, Pierro's older half-brother—the crown prince. A smug smirk played on his lips, barely hidden behind a mask of faux concern. He was enjoying this, basking in the king's wrath as it fell entirely on Pierro.
"I warned you, Pierro!" the king roared, pacing back and forth. His voice echoed off the stone walls. "I told you not to do anything that would bring disgrace to the Pyro Kingdom! And yet—what did you do?!"
Pierro remained silent, his hands still clenched at his sides. His eyes were cold and unreadable.
"What do you think you know? What did you hear that night outside my office, Pierro?" his father snapped, coming closer.
Still, Pierro did not speak. There was no use. He knew that no matter what he said, his father would not listen—he never had. He had always believed what he wanted to believe and anything that did not fit his narrative was dismissed as rebellion.
"Answer me!" the king's voice exploded again. "PIERRO!"
"I heard nothing, father," Pierro said at last, voice flat and empty.
His father narrowed his eyes. "Nothing, huh? Then how come I heard that you asked Clint 'why they didn't escape that day?' Huh?" His tone was low now, but full of weight and menace.
Pierro's brows furrowed slightly.
How does he know that exact question? he thought. That moment wasn't public… only Professor Clint and the class were there.
The king's expression shifted, and for a fleeting second, Pierro saw it—a wicked, knowing grin curling on his father's lips.
"There it is," the king said with venom. "That stupid stubbornness of yours... You never listen!"
The rage that followed was boiling. "This is the last time I'll tolerate your behavior, Pierro!" the king shouted, his face flushed with fury. "One more misstep—one more whisper of defiance—and you will no longer have a place in this family or this kingdom! Do you understand me?!"
Without waiting for an answer, the king turned away, his voice shaking with rage. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! Don't you dare show your face to me again!"
Pierro didn't speak. He bowed deeply—out of formality, not respect—and walked out of the room without looking back.
As the door closed behind him, the silence felt louder than any scream. He exhaled shakily, only then realizing how tightly his jaw had been locked. Pain radiated from the side of his face where the slap had landed, and when he touched his cheek, he winced.
A warm sting bloomed under his fingertips. Blood.
But it wasn't just the pain from the slap that consumed him.
It was something deeper.
Something darker.
There was something his father was hiding—something about that mission, about the Cursed Forest—and his reaction had only confirmed it.
He doesn't want me to uncover it, Pierro realized.
And that only made Pierro more determined than ever.
He would find out the truth.
No matter what it cost him.
To be continued...