Blackthorn Estate – Late Morning
The sun filtered through the half-cleaned windows of the Blackthorn manor.
Dust motes floated like gentle sparks in the air.
Somewhere down the hall, a wind rattled a broken shutter.
Aeron stood on the balcony overlooking the southern path, the newly re-hung Blackthorn crest fluttering gently behind him.
A light breeze tugged at the edges of his cloak, as if reminding him that change had already begun.
His eyes opened naturally as the sun’s rays fell on his face through the glass windows.
He woke up completely anew and with a newfound power.
And then he felt it.
Someone’s approaching.
Not danger.
Just… presence.
A moment later, the estate’s rusted gates creaked open, groaning like old bones disturbed from slumber.
A single carriage arrived—more than modest, polished and well-kept.
No royal fanfare.
Just quiet dignity.
The crest on its side bore the sigil of House Everdawn: a golden hawk in flight, wings arched, talons raised.
The door opened, and out stepped a girl.
No—a young woman now.
Light brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, her signature braid still tucked neatly over one side.
She wore a pale blue traveling robe embroidered with silver trim, cinched at the waist with a simple sash that did little to hide her graceful, hourglass figure.
The morning sunlight kissed her skin with a soft glow, illuminating amber eyes that held both warmth and unspoken fire.
She adjusted the hem of her robe and looked up at the manor, blinking with quiet disbelief.
“Still standing…” she murmured, almost to herself.
She walked up the cracked path, steps careful over the weeds and fractured stones, until she stopped near the front steps.
Aeron was already waiting.
“Aira,” he greeted simply.
The name came to his tongue without effort—memories and knowledge from both past and present aligning within him.
A childhood friend.
The only one who had stayed.
Her eyes widened faintly.
“You recognized me right away?”
“You never changed,” Aeron replied.
“Still wear the same braid.”
She blinked, then smiled.
A genuine, radiant smile that reached her eyes.
Her hand instinctively touched the braid draped over her shoulder.
“So do you.
Still sound like a blunt old man.”
A smile flickered at the corner of his lips.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Main Hall
They sat at a small table near the old fireplace—Aeron had cleared the dust here just the night before.
Light from a cracked window spilled across the stone floor, catching the soft shimmer of the tea set Aira had brought from her carriage.
The delicate clink of porcelain broke the silence.
She poured the tea herself, careful and precise, her fingers never trembling.
Her gaze drifted around the room.
“You’ve… really started cleaning this place.”
“I don’t like sitting in ruins.
Not anymore,” Aeron said, sipping.
She paused, studying him quietly.
“Your voice is the same,” she murmured.
“But something’s different.”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned his head slightly toward the corridor.
“So.
What brings you to a ghost manor this early in the day?”
Aira placed her cup down with a soft clink.
“I came about the Academy.”
His gaze shifted slightly.
“What about it?”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
“The enrollment season begins in two weeks.
I came to ask… why you haven’t responded to the Academy’s call.”
Aeron leaned back in his chair, tea in hand.
“There was no call.”
“What?”
He turned toward the hallway and raised his voice slightly.
“Jones.”
A moment later, the old butler emerged—thin, neatly dressed despite age, moving like a shade across the polished floors.
The only servant left.
He had returned only this morning after being ill the past few days.
“Yes, young master?” Jones asked, bowing faintly.
“Any letters from the Academy?”
Jones shook his head.
“None arrived, my lord.
I checked twice during the past moon.
I feared the silence spoke for itself.”
Aira’s jaw tightened.
“That can’t be right.
The Blackthorn name—”
“—Means nothing right now,” Aeron finished calmly.
She looked at him, frustration flickering behind her amber eyes.
“They think you’re still…”
“Magic-less.
Incompetent.” He took another sip.
“I know.”
Aira lowered her gaze to her lap.
Then, slowly, she looked back at him.
“They’re making you go through the entrance trials, aren’t they?”
Aeron gave a small shrug.
“What do you think.”
“That’s unfair,” she said softly.
“You should’ve been accepted by name alone.”
He tilted his head.
“That name’s a ruin now.
I’m just trying to keep it from turning to dust.”
There was a long silence.
Then she leaned forward, her tone earnest.
“Let me speak to my father.
House Everdawn still holds influence.
If I explain the situation—”
“Aira,” he interrupted gently.
“It’s okay.
That’ll only stir more rumors… and might tarnish your family’s name, too.”
She paused.
“…O-okay.”
He smiled faintly.
Not unkindly.
“But I appreciate that you offered.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, a natural warmth blooming on her face.
She looked away, then back—her gaze lingering a little too long before she caught herself and turned toward the window.
There it is, Aeron thought.
That was the third glance.
They finished tea in companionable silence.
The kind that needed no words, only shared memories.
Aira stood first, brushing the front of her robe.
“You’ll really go through with the entrance trials?”
“I don’t have much of a choice,” Aeron said.
Her eyes turning soft again.
“Aeron you know I can— “.
“No.” Aeron cutted her off before she could complete.
Aira laughed, the sound soft and familiar.
“Hmph!
Okay, I got it.”
Aeron laughed softly seeing her reaction, a smile that made Aira’s heart flutter.
She stood abruptly.
“H-hm…
I-i think it’s time.”
Aeron looked outside through the the window.
“Hm, it seems so.”
He stood from his seat too.
At the Gate
The sun had risen fully now.
The skies above Vexin were clear.
The carriage stood ready by the old gate.
Aira hesitated, one hand on the open door.
“I’ll still… mention you to Father,” she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.
“Even if you said not to.”
“I figured,” Aeron replied.
“You won’t hate me for it?”
He shook his head.
“No.
But I won’t rely on it, either.”
Aira looked up—and this time, she didn’t look away.
Her eyes, a shade of warm honey, held something beneath the surface.
It’s still there, he realized.
Buried.
Quiet.
But real.
“I’m glad you’re… still here, Aeron.”
“I am.”
She climbed into the carriage—but before disappearing inside, she turned and stole one last glance through the open door.
Long enough to get caught.
And for once, Aeron didn’t look away.
[Ding]
[Relationship Insight – Aira Everdawn]
Status: Longtime Friend
Emotional Shift: Concern → Admiration (Hidden)
Trait Discovered: [Steady Flame] – Burns slow, but fiercely.
Aeron watched the carriage disappear over the hill, its wheels crunching the gravel path, fading into distance.
A breeze brushed through the courtyard.
“Well… she’s definitely the sweetest one I’ve ever met,” he murmured to himself.
He turned and walked back inside, his footsteps echoing across newly cleaned stone.
He had a trial to prepare for.
Inside the Carriage
Aira sat still on the plush velvet seat, hands folded on her lap, but her thoughts were far from still.
He remembers me…!
Her heart fluttered.
I knew it… even though Father said he wouldn’t.
Said he might be changed, hollow, left with nothingness after his engagement nullment with the Princess.
But he remembered.
And not just her face.
Her braid.
Her voice.
Her warmth.
He remembered her.
Her cheeks turned pink.
Her lips parted, breathing in softly as warmth bloomed in her chest like spring sunlight.
Does he remember the promise too…?
A scene surfaced in her mind.
Distant, but vivid.
A little boy and a girl, hand in hand beneath a moonlit terrace.
The faint noise of banquet music drifted through the open windows behind them.
Their shadows, small and brave, stretched across the garden stones.
“Promise me after we become adults, you will— ,” the girl had said.
The boy a little stunned but replied with honesty.
“I promise.”
Her fingers curled slightly against her skirt.
She smiled faintly to herself.
The road ahead was long.
But for the first time in years—
Hope felt real.