Lyra glanced back at her mother, seeking reassurance.
Her mother gave a firm, supportive nod.
“Go ahead.”
Taking a slow, stabilizing breath, Lyra slipped her finger beneath the edge and carefully broke the wax seal.
The exact moment the violet wax cracked, a gentle, silent pulse of light spread across the dark paper before vanishing instantly, as though nothing had happened.
Lyra reached inside and pulled out a single sheet of deep black parchment.
To their amazement, elegant silver letters slowly began to bloom across its dark surface, appearing one by one as if being written by an invisible hand.
→ To Lyra Vale.
Your presence is requested at Astral Academy.
Failure to attend within seven days shall be considered a rejection of this invitation.
Arrival coordinates are enclosed.
Your entrance examination begins immediately upon arrival.
Prepare accordingly.
There was no signature at the bottom.
There was no official stamp, no department name, nothing.
Only a single sentence slowly materialized beneath the core message after several tense seconds:
‘Survive.
Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the silver letters faded back into the dark.
The black parchment became completely, entirely blank once more.
Lyra stared at the empty paper in disbelief.
“…That’s it?”
The courier looked equally confused, scratching his cap.
“I… I don’t know anything else, Miss. I’ve worked for the Silvercrest Education Council for eighteen years, and I’ve never delivered anything like this.”
Her mother frowned, staring at the blank sheet.
“Astral Academy… I’ve never heard of it in all my years in the city.”
Neither had Lyra.
She lowered her gaze, focusing her thoughts toward her shoulder.
‘…Do you know this academy, Myrmor?’
The tiny ant remained silent for several long moments before his voice finally echoed in her mind.
“I know of the name.”
Lyra waited for him to elaborate, but the silence stretched on.
‘…And?’ she pressed.
“I will tell you when the time is right.”
She let out a soft, frustrated sigh.
‘You really enjoy doing that, don’t you?’
“It builds character,” Myrmor countered calmly.
‘It builds frustration.’
“A similar thing.”
Even after the sound of his footsteps disappeared completely down the narrow street, both mother and daughter remained standing beneath the moonlight.
“Astral Academy…” Lyra whispered the unfamiliar words aloud, testing the sound of them.
Her mother reached out, gently folding the black invitation before handing it back to her daughter.
“Whatever this place is… I think you should go.”
Lyra looked up, surprised by the immediate response.
“Even if it’s dangerous? Even with that last word?”
Her mother smiled sadly, her eyes full of warmth.
“When has life ever waited until we’re ready, sweetheart?”
That night, sleep refused to come easily.
Lyra lay flat on her back, staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling of her bedroom.
The mysterious black invitation rested quietly on the small wooden desk beside her bed, catching the pale shafts of moonlight pouring through the window pane.
‘…You’re awake,’ she thought silently.
“I do not sleep,” Myrmor’s voice replied calmly from nearby.
‘Must be nice.’
“It has its disadvantages.”
‘Like what?’
“I have had ten thousand years to become thoroughly bored, to taste the different flavours of nothing to do but think and wait.”
Lyra let out a quiet, breathless laugh into the silence of her room.
For a while, neither of them spoke, listening to the distant rustle of the wind outside.
Then, she turned her head toward the desk.
“…Myrmor.”
“Yes?”
“…Were you serious?” she hesitated, her voice dropping to a soft whisper.
“When you said… that I’m a queen.”
“I have never lied to you, Lyra.”
“But I don’t understand any of it.”
“You are not meant to,” the Ant’s voice returned smoothly.
“Not yet.”
She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket slightly higher.
“Then tell me something else. Something I can understand.”
“What would you like to know?”
“…How strong are you, really?”
A long silence followed, heavy and unbroken.
“A question without meaning,” Myrmor finally answered.
Lyra blinked in the dark.
“I possess very little physical strength,” the ant stated flatly.
“…Yet there are very few beings alive who would willingly stand before me.”
Lyra’s eyes widened slightly.
“…That’s completely contradictory.”
“It is also entirely true.”
And just as before, he refused to explain any further, leaving her to drift off into a restless sleep.
Far away, inside a magnificent, sprawling estate that overlooked the entire glittering expanse of Silvercrest, Kael Draven stood completely alone upon a sweeping stone balcony.
The high moon reflected brilliantly across the polished marble floor beneath his boots.
Behind his back, the air began to warp.
The enormous, majestic phantom of the Heavenly Dragon Emperor slowly materialized in the midnight air.
“You are distracted,” the dragon’s deep, resonant voice boomed softly in Kael’s mind.
Kael folded his arms tightly across his chest, staring out at the city lights.
“…I keep thinking about what happened today at the ceremony.”
“The girl?”
“Yes,” Kael muttered, his brow furrowing.
“She awakened a common ant. A zero-rank insect. And yet…” He turned his head sharply back toward the phantom.
“…You bowed to it.” Of course he had seen it, but his upbringing doesn’t allow him loose his bearing in public, so he held it in, till they got home.
The dragon’s eyes slowly opened, glowing with an unreadable light.
“I acknowledged something, Kael. Not someone.”
Kael turned fully around, his eyes narrowing.
“What does that mean?”
“It is not yet your place to know, to put it bluntly to you, you are still so weak to know.”
Kael clicked his tongue in clear frustration.
“I hate it when you answer me like that.”
The great dragon remained entirely unmoved by his user’s annoyance, its massive form beginning to fade back into the ether.
“Then become stronger.”
At the exact same time, hundreds of kilometers away from the borders of Silvercrest, deep beneath the roots of an ancient, forgotten mountain, three figures stood in silence.
They were gathered before a massive stone gate, its weathered surface entirely covered in intricate, ancient carvings.
The symbols etched into the rock no longer belonged to any modern language spoken across the continent of Aetheria.
One of the figures slowly raised a long, robed hand toward the center of the structure.
“The Throne has finally moved.”
The second figure gave a slow, solemn nod.
“The invitation has been delivered.”
The oldest among them, sitting cross-legged at the front, quietly opened his ageless eyes.
“So… the game begins once more.”
With a sudden, violent shudder, the enormous stone gate began to tremble.
Then, a single, ancient symbol carved near its very center emitted a faint, unmistakable golden glow, piercing the subterranean darkness.