Morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting golden and blue reflections on the polished stone walls. Arata opened his eyes slowly, wrapped in the fresh scent of wood and parchment, while the first murmurs of the day drifted in through the window. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. The room wasn't large, but it had everything he needed. A carved wooden bed, a chest at its foot, a desk with a quill and ink, and a full-length mirror with a wrought iron frame.
His new home.
He sat up slowly, his head still a bit clouded from sleep. Outside, he could hear songs—some from birds, others not so much—and young voices crossing paths in the gardens. Laughter, hurried footsteps, instructions echoing down the stone corridors.
It was his first official day as a student at the Belgrán Academy of Harmonists.
His uniform rested over the chair's backrest. This time, it wasn't the borrowed clothes he'd worn upon arrival. It was his. A dark blue linen tunic with silver-threaded edges, a white shirt buttoned at the neck underneath, riding trousers, and tall leather boots. A belt held a brooch with the insignia of his course: a tree whose roots embraced a crystal.
It took him a bit to get dressed—he still wasn't used to such formal clothing—but when he looked at himself in the mirror, for the first time, he felt like maybe he did belong in this place.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Arata? May I come in?"
"Come in..." he replied, a little uncertain.
The door opened gently. A young woman with short, moon-silver hair peeked her head in. She wore round glasses, a short cape over her shoulders, and traveling boots. Her demeanor was calm, almost maternal.
"Good morning. I'm Elinne, Captain Akiharu's assistant. He asked me to accompany you today. He was urgently summoned to a royal council meeting this morning."
Arata nodded, relieved to see a kind face.
"Did you sleep well? Are you ready?"
"Yes… I think so."
She smiled.
"Good. Today is a special day, so we'll have a quick breakfast and then head to your classroom. From there, you'll go to the Grand Garden. The fourth-year students' pact ceremony will be held today."
The mention of a "pact" triggered something in his memory, an empty word he felt he should understand.
"Pact ceremony?"
"You'll understand soon," she replied, starting to walk. "But if you want some advice, don't miss it. It only happens once a year, and it marks the true beginning for every Harmonist."
Arata followed her in silence, a mix of nerves and curiosity pounding in his chest.
Elinne walked with steady steps through the academy's curved hallways. Her boots echoed softly on the marble, and her short cape floated with each turn. Arata followed closely, still adjusting the gloves of his uniform. Though he tried not to show it, he felt everything around him was bigger than he could comprehend. The tall, stained-glass-decorated walls seemed to be watching him.
"Is it always this noisy?" he asked, seeing some students running with books under their arms.
"Today more than ever," she replied, smiling over her shoulder. "The pact ceremony is the most anticipated event of the year. Everyone wants a good spot in the Grand Garden."
As they crossed a particularly crowded hallway, Arata saw a group of young people. Among them, three stood out. First, two identical twin girls, petite and full of life; the only difference was their hair color—one white as snow, the other black as night. Their eyes, however, sparkled with the same challenging gleam. Near them, a boy with brown hair and piercing eyes listened with a faint smile, his posture radiating an unusual calm for his age. For a moment, their eyes met, but Elinne turned down a gallery where the shadows were denser and the noise began to fade.
Instead of following the carved signs that led toward the garden, Elinne turned to a side staircase that descended. Arata didn't protest; he trusted she knew faster routes.
"A shortcut?" he asked with a nervous smile.
"Exactly. We'll avoid the chaos." Her tone was kind.
They descended through an older gallery, where the walls had no stained glass, only stone pillars marked by moss and time. The torches flickered with a bluish-green flame that gave no warmth. A shiver ran down Arata's spine. The air felt heavy, as if something invisible were watching him.
"Is this area still used for classes?"
"Not anymore. It's part of the old east wing. Closed years ago, although…" she paused briefly, as if choosing her words, "some use it as a passage if they have permission."
Arata swallowed hard. The corridor seemed to narrow, the ceiling growing lower. Dampness brushed the back of his neck. He quickened his pace to avoid falling behind. Finally, Elinne stopped before a half-rusted iron door.
"Here?" he asked, frowning.
She turned slowly. For the first time, she wasn't smiling.
"Yes."
She opened the door with a key she took from a small box on her belt. The creak of the hinges broke the silence. Inside, the room was circular, windowless, with a single opening in the ceiling through which a pale ray of light descended. In the center, an ancient rune was carved into the floor. It reminded Arata of something. He didn't know what. Just… something.
"Are you sure this is the way to the garden?"
"No." Elinne's voice was no longer kind. Nor maternal. Not even human.
Arata took a step back. Elinne stepped forward twice.
"What...?"
Then he saw it. Where he had expected a notebook in her right hand, there now shone a thin, curved dagger, marked with spiraling symbols that seemed to move on their own. The blade was black, with no reflection. A cold chill ran up his back.
"The garden was never the destination," she whispered, stepping closer. "You were never meant to get this far."
Arata didn't understand what was happening. To him, she was a friend of the one who had saved his life. In that instant, Elinne blurred in the air and reappeared beside him.
The pain was immediate.
The dagger went in just below his left rib. He didn't scream. Just a choked groan, eyes wide open, as searing pain ignited his side. His breath escaped him. The world began to blur.
He fell to his knees. Warm blood soaked his white shirt.
"You don't understand, do you?" she murmured, kneeling in front of him, gazing at his face with a mix of pity and disdain. "You don't even remember who you were. What you did. How deeply you betrayed him."
Arata trembled. His vision blurred. He could barely move his lips.
"Wh… who…?"
Elinne cupped his face with a gentle hand. The other still held the bloodstained dagger.
"Nivhan does not forget. He does not forgive. And you, ungrateful creature, turned your back on him. You defied him. You chose to live free… when you were born to serve him."
She stood.
"This life was an act of mercy. A second chance… that I shall close."
From the floor, the blood began to stir. A Blood-type familiar with no defined shape, made of pulsing veins and twisted muscle, emerged, faceless. It rose like a living curtain behind Elinne, extending its arms.
"We'll take you far away. Somewhere no one can find you. Not even him," she said, looking up at the ceiling, as if invoking Akiharu. "It was a mistake for him to save you. One that won't be repeated."
The circle on the floor began to spin. The runes glowed red and purple. The familiar extended its arms, and Arata's barely conscious body began to be dragged into the darkness. Elinne turned her back, not looking behind her.
The room fell silent.
And then, nothing remained.