EMERGENCY STATUS UPDATE – SUBJECT THIELLE
Emergency Evaluation Center N-4, Sideral District, Seravenn
Designated Name: THIELLE
Active Emotional Identifier: RUMINATION
Manifestation Status: Critical Instability / Phase Shift / Partial Disassociation
Time Since Spontaneous Awakening: 5 days, 2 hours, 31 minutes
Public Detection Level: 0% — Undetected by civilian surveillance
Structural Compatibility: 68.4% (declining)
? Clinical Observation Log – Transcription Excerpt:
Subject remains suspended in partial restraint harness. Observable decline in autonomic coordination: blinking irregular, breath rate uneven, muscle spasms in left leg and clavicular region. Body temperature oscillating ±3.7°C without clear cause.
Audio capture reveals degraded speech pattern. Phrases are incomplete, cyclic, or appear to mimic external voices:
—“I didn’t mean to… it wasn’t… it wasn’t me…”
—“…she was laughing, I think… why was she laughing?”
—“…no more reflections, no more… no more… no…”
Emotional activity reaches critical levels during sleep cycles. Cubicle sensors recorded two instances of full magical discharge without cognitive triggers. One burst erased all external sound inside a five-meter radius for 4.8 seconds.
? Commentary by Dr. Cirelle Thaynn (5th Veil):
“She’s absorbing emotional residues from our staff. One nurse cried outside the containment hall, and Thielle repeated her exact words three hours later, in perfect tone. This is no longer rumination. It’s cross-emotional imprinting. The subject is dissolving.”
? Supplementary Note:
Following the last outburst, mirror surfaces within the evaluation chamber were found warped. Not broken—warped. Reflective materials no longer show accurate images, but fragmented duplications of Thielle’s face in various states of distress.
Subject was placed under partial sedation. No effect.
? Field Prognosis:
Synchronization no longer recommended. Identity disintegration probable. Emotional contamination risk increasing. Immediate reassessment of Protocol 12-Delta required.
Subject began repeating a new phrase upon exposure to dim lighting:
“I don’t know who I am…
but I think I’m remembering wrong…”
End of log.
Seravenn Night time
The walk back was quiet. Seravenn’s artificial lights bathed the buildings in a bluish glow—cold, almost ethereal. Velka and I walked without speaking. Far in the distance, we could still hear the sirens echoing, announcing the arrival of the containment squad.
We didn’t say Neyra’s name.
Maybe because we didn’t want to worry just yet.
We reached the apartment complex and took the elevator. Velka walked straight to Neyra’s door and knocked gently.
Nothing.
She knocked again, a little louder this time.
—Maybe she’s already asleep —she said, shrugging—. Sometimes she just shuts herself away. I know how she gets.
—Yeah… I guess so —I replied, forcing a smile.
It wasn’t unheard of, but it didn’t feel right either.
We said our goodnights there—just a tired gesture and a few quiet words. I walked to my apartment, opened the door, and dropped onto the couch. The room was dim. The air smelled like old tea and clean laundry. For a moment, it almost felt like everything had been a bad dream.
But it wasn’t.
There had been a spy.
A house with drawings painted in dirt and dried blood.
An Eiswacht agent waiting exactly where he needed to be.
Too perfect.
Too easy.
I closed my eyes for a few seconds, thinking about what it all meant. If the infiltrator was already in custody… would we be returning to the academy soon?
Would I see Silas again?
That last thought caught me off guard. Not because it was absurd—but because it was persistent. It was there, tucked into me like a soft thorn. I didn’t want to stop seeing him. I didn’t want this to be over just yet.
When had I started thinking about him this much?
I sighed. Rested my head back on the couch. And for some reason… I smiled.
—What if I bring him something?
The thought planted itself.
Small. Silly. Warm.
I stood up. Turned on a light. Opened the pantry.
Flour. Sugar. Butter. Chocolate.
I had everything I needed. I always did. Baking calmed me. Grounded me. Pastry had logic, precision, beauty. As if the chaos of the day could be measured in grams and corrected with just the right amount of heat.
And so, in the middle of the night, I started making chocolate cookies.
I worked in silence, steady hands, no rush. As if each mix and shape were a quiet offering.
By the time the last tray came out of the oven, the clock read some absurd hour.
But I felt good.
Small. Composed. Ridiculously happy.
I washed my hands. Placed the cookies in an improvised box.
And finally, I went to sleep.
With the smell of chocolate on my fingers—
and my heart just a little lighter.
The sound of the alarm barely pulled me from sleep. I’d slept deeply—unusually so. Maybe the lingering scent of chocolate still hanging in the air had something to do with it.
I got dressed slowly, tied my hair back, and picked up the little cookie box. I stared at it for a second. Hesitated. But no... it was done.
When I stepped into the hallway, Velka was already waiting, leaning against the wall like she hadn’t slept at all.
—Morning —I said, closing my door behind me.
—Morning... is that a recycled cardboard box with... notes of butter and chocolate? —she asked, raising an eyebrow and not even trying to hide her grin.
—It’s nothing —I said quickly, trying to tuck it behind my back.
Velka clicked her tongue and fell into step beside me.
—Nothing? Sure. Because you just whip up gourmet pastries at midnight for no one.
—I just like baking to relax —I insisted, weakly.
—Right. And I write field reports for fun. —She gave me a look that sliced right through me—. Are those for Silas?
I didn’t answer.
Velka didn’t need one.
—Oh my god —she muttered, amused—. You’re gonna give him a heart attack.
—It’s not that serious...
—Are you gonna give him one shaped like a heart? With a little note inside? Or just slide them across the desk with a sigh?
—Velka...
—Should we pack him a lunch too? Maybe embroider a tablecloth?
I elbowed her in the ribs. She laughed softly.
But her laughter faded as we approached Neyra’s door.
She stopped. So did I.
She knocked gently.
Nothing.
She knocked again. Louder.
Silence.
—Still not down —she said, trying to sound casual.
—Think she left early?
Velka shook her head.
—I doubt it. Then again… it’s Neyra. When she shuts herself in, she goes all in.
I stared at the closed door. There was something off about the silence. Not just that she wasn’t there—something was missing.
But we didn’t say anything else.
We took the elevator down. Parted ways at the station. Velka had a minor field errand. I was heading to the academy.
The cookie box still sat in my lap.
Lighter than yesterday—but heavier than ever.
The campus didn’t smell the same.
Even the light seemed off. There was something in the air—soft static, industrial perfume, a kind of expectation I didn’t know how to name.
The moment I passed the first gate, I nearly collided with three students rushing by, carrying a roll of white fabric. They tripped over themselves, arguing about which side was the front. A supervisor barked orders through a portable loudspeaker. Boxes were stacked in every corner, and the central fountain had been shut off and covered with a gray tarp.
I had to move quickly just to avoid getting shoved.
—What’s going on? —I asked one of the archive assistants as I finally slipped into the main building.
She looked at me like I’d just woken up from a coma.
—Didn’t they tell you? It’s tomorrow. The big event.
She didn’t elaborate. And I didn’t have time to press further. In under three minutes, I’d been handed a list of tasks that had nothing to do with my position in the archive. A handwritten note, full of cross-outs, names I didn’t recognize, and places I barely remembered.
“Wing D.” “Entry platform 2.” “Ceremonial scan module.”
Everything sounded official—yet completely improvised.
At first, I thought it might be some political drill. Maybe the surprise visit of a colonel or a senior commander inspection. But as the day went on, I began to notice the details.
The banners being ironed with urgency didn’t bear military insignias… but floral patterns. People talked about walkways and lighting rigs, not tactics or status reports. On one of the envelopes I sorted with Silas, I spotted the name of a civilian district—nowhere near campus.
And the word that kept popping up—in whispers, as if saying it too loud would break something—was:
“Hope.”
But no one would say anything clear.
No one dared name her directly.
I couldn’t concentrate.
The file was right there, on my desk, waiting like a secret about to spill over… but I wasn’t given a single free minute to open it.
They assigned me the most random tasks: moving boxes of ceremonial shields, sorting institutional blankets embroidered with phrases like “Emotional Unity Above All,” “Order Is Resilience,” “Every Light Has Direction.”
I had to label names on plastic tags. Prep desks for a delegation that wouldn’t even be coming to campus. Polish ID plaques for people I’d never met.
And the strangest thing? No one seemed to question it. Everyone moved like something monumental was about to happen—something bigger than our routines. As if they knew… and chose to pretend they didn’t.
I tried to read between the lines. To catch fragments of whispered conversations.
—They say it’s the real ones… —I heard one assistant mutter near the registry room.
—The what? —asked another.
—The magical girls. Active ones. Not just trainees.
—And why all the commotion?
—Because she’s coming.
They didn’t say her name. They didn’t need to.
I didn’t understand half of what was going on, but something deep inside told me this wasn’t just a parade. It was something more. Something tied to symbols I hadn’t learned to read.
And the more the banners and tense voices surrounded me, the more that hidden file burned beneath my belongings.
That file about the creation of Seravenn.
The origin of it all.
And something no one wanted me to see.
Every now and then, I’d spot Silas darting through hallways with envelopes, boxes, or blueprint tubes. Always in a rush, always carrying something. But whenever we crossed paths, the chaos paused—just for a heartbeat.
We’d catch each other’s eye. Smile. Share a few words no one else seemed to notice.
One of those moments came while we were folding white blankets with golden trim. Out of nowhere, he asked:
—Do you like cooking?
—A lot —I replied instinctively—. Especially baking. Tarts, cookies… it relaxes me. Makes me feel human.
Silas smiled, like he’d just confirmed something he already suspected.
—I paint, when I can. I like using real pigments… even if everything’s digital now —he said with a half-smile—. I like getting my hands messy. Makes me feel like something’s actually worth it.
He paused for a second, then lowered his voice—just enough that only I could hear:
—Sometimes it feels like the world’s so full of darkness, the only way to survive is by making something beautiful.
It caught me off guard. Not just what he said… but how he said it. Like it wasn’t a thought, but a wound—no longer bleeding, but still sore.
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I looked at him. There was something fractured in his eyes, yet he didn’t complain. He just kept folding blankets.
I didn’t know what to say.
But I felt… seen. Not as Lyria. As me.
All day, I carried the cookie box in my backpack. I’d made a small batch of my best: dark chocolate with almond.
I’d wanted to give them to him more than once, but there was always someone nearby. A glance. A superior. A summons. I felt ridiculous.
A stupid little box. Small. Almost childish.
But it was the only thing I’d made while thinking of him.
And that was enough to make it tremble in my hands.
The entire day had been a whirlwind of voices, orders, and banners.
No one mentioned her name directly.
They just said “her,” “the guest,” “the main figure of the event.” Some whispered in the hallways. Others changed the subject the moment someone new approached.
But I didn’t need more.
I knew.
I knew who they meant.
Reia.
The only positive emotion left in the world.
Hope, made flesh.
It made no sense for her to appear at a public event. Nor that her visit was being prepared in such haste. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I understood the obvious: her mere presence was a message. A symbol. A way to remind everyone that Seravenn still had something worth fighting for.
I wondered if I would see her.
Not as an admirer. Not as someone seeking answers.
But as a magical girl.
One… like her.
And for the first time, the idea felt so immense I had to stay still, fingers tightening against the edge of the table.
What would it feel like to stand before someone like that?
What would she see… if she looked at me?
Near the end of the day, exhausted, I wanted to return to the file. I was finally going to read it. But just then, Silas showed up again.
And for some reason… I didn’t mind.
—Heading out? —he asked in that calm voice of his.
I nodded.
—Want me to walk you to the station again?
I didn’t hesitate.
—Sure.
We walked without hurry. After a few seconds, Silas broke the silence.
—I know I talk a lot… but sometimes it’s hard for me to share personal things. Today… I don’t know, I felt like I could.
I looked at him.
I didn’t say anything. I just listened. The same way he does with me.
He told me about his family. How he lives alone. That he’s far from them. That sometimes he wonders whether he should stay in Seravenn or move to New Althameria, but something keeps him here… like his story isn’t finished yet.
When we reached the station, he confirmed where we’d meet tomorrow.
—The central station, right?
—I live near the center —I blurted out, without thinking.
He looked thoughtful for a second.
—I don’t know where you live.
—You could walk me home —I said quickly, trying to sound casual—. If it’s not too far out of your way, of course.
He smiled.
—If you live near the center, there’s a line that drops me right at my stop. It’s no trouble.
My chest did a tiny leap.
I had to remind myself:
“Calm down. He’s just your coworker. It’s normal to know where each other lives, right?”
Then, before I could back out, I reached into my bag.
I pulled out the small, neatly sealed box. Held it in my hands, unsure. He was still looking out toward the street when I placed it in front of him.
—This… is for you —I said, not looking directly at him—. I made them last night. Cookies. I just… thought you might like them.
Silas blinked, as if he hadn’t expected the gesture. He took the box gently, as if afraid it might break.
—You made these?
I nodded. My cheeks burned.
—Thank you, Lyria —he whispered.
He didn’t say it like someone thanking a polite gesture. He said it like he’d just received something he never dared ask for.
He tucked the box into his bag. Didn’t say anything else. And he didn’t have to.
The transport arrived.
We got on.
And I… said nothing more.
I just glanced at him from the corner of my eye while he looked out the window.
As if he didn’t know that right now… he was being etched into my memory.
The return trip felt different.
The streets, which usually seemed cold, empty, threatening at night… now felt almost welcoming.
Not because they had changed.
But because I wasn’t alone.
He was there.
Silas.
We sat side by side on the transport, and even though we both stared out the window, pretending the ride meant nothing, the closeness was undeniable.
There was something in the air. Something that had shifted.
We didn’t need to speak to feel it.
For a brief moment, I even forgot about the unopened file. The day's anomalies. The pressure of tomorrow's event.
Only the faint warmth of his shoulder near mine remained.
We got off together at the stop near my place. We walked slowly, as if time had thickened around us. Silas looked around with a hint of wonder.
—You live around here? —he asked, curious—. I wouldn’t have guessed… It’s such a quiet area.
I nodded with a soft smile.
—Perfect for staying away from the noise.
And just as we turned the corner toward the complex, I saw her.
Velka.
Leaning against the wall, waiting for us like she knew exactly what time we’d arrive.
—Well, well —she said, crossing her arms with a feline grin.
My legs stopped before my thoughts caught up.
—And who’s this one? —she glanced at me with a mischievous spark, then stepped toward Silas confidently—. Mirelle Faeron. Lyria’s childhood friend. From way before she turned all mysterious.
She offered her hand, very formal… and then winked at him.
Silas, visibly nervous, adjusted his collar before answering.
—Silas. I work with… Lyria —he used my alias, as he should, though clearly unsure what to do with himself.
—Aha. Knew it —Velka turned to me, grinning from ear to ear—. You’ve never introduced me to such a handsome guy. What, has he held your hand yet? Maybe a kiss on the cheek? Or could it be… something more…?
—Mirelle! —I hissed under my breath, heat flooding my face. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
—Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing. Just wanted to say I’ll be upstairs waiting. We have some very, very important girl things to discuss.
And she disappeared, leaving us in silence.
Silas let out a small laugh.
—Don’t worry. I thought she was… charming. In her own way.
I laughed too—for the first time during the entire walk.
A real laugh.
—So… tomorrow at two? Meet you here? —he said, already getting ready to leave.
—I’ll be ready —I replied without hesitation.
He said goodbye, boarded his transport… and was gone.
I stood there, watching the vehicle vanish down the avenue.
My chest felt a little lighter. A little… strange.
Maybe it was excitement.
Maybe it was just that all of this was so new.
I entered the building and went upstairs.
Velka was already waiting outside, wearing a smile that looked slightly forced. When she saw me, she tried to lighten the mood with a teasing tone.
—If you’d told me your handsome guy was coming, I would’ve worn something less tragic —she said, raising a brow playfully.
—He’s not my guy —I replied with a sigh.
—Yet —she added with a wink, though her voice didn’t carry the same usual mischief.
I barely smiled. Something in my face made her drop the act immediately.
—Let’s go to my place —she said more seriously—. But first, let’s check on Neyra.
We climbed in silence and knocked on Neyra’s door.
Nothing.
We knocked again. Waited. Total silence.
—Do you think…? —I started, a knot tightening in my stomach.
—She’s probably doing her thing —Velka muttered, like she was trying to convince herself—. If she was following that trail she mentioned yesterday, she’s likely deep in it. You know how she gets when something grabs her attention. Everything else vanishes.
I nodded, but something inside me twisted sharply. I thought about her face that night, the way she looked at me before leaving… and I couldn’t stop the thought:
Was this my fault?
We went into Velka’s apartment. She tossed her jacket on the coat rack without a glance and headed straight for her desk.
—I felt something strange today —she muttered as she turned on her terminal—. Subtle, but real. Like a magical pulse. I want to log a quick report before it fades. Could be interference. But if it’s not…
She didn’t finish the sentence. I knew what she meant.
I shifted uncomfortably. Then said it.
—I saw a woman —I said. My voice was softer than I expected—. Yesterday. First on the street… then she came looking for me at the academy.
Velka looked up instantly.
—A visitor?
—No… —I shook my head—. There was something about her. A strange presence. The smell of wilted lilies. Movements too perfect. She looked at me like she knew something. I can’t explain it, but she wasn’t normal.
Velka was already taking notes.
—Describe her.
I told her everything: the white hair, pale skin, that unnatural smile. She didn’t say anything for a moment.
—I’ll add her to the report. Just in case.
Then she looked at me for a second too long. Something in her gaze I couldn’t quite read.
—Go on. Get some sleep, Lyria. You’ve got more important things to deal with tomorrow than weird magical flickers and creepy women. I’ll finish up here and join you later.
—Are you sure?
—Yeah. Go.
I nodded and stepped out, but the silence in the hallway clung to me like static.
I returned to my apartment alone.
But the feeling of unease didn’t fade.
Nor the memory of Silas.
Nor that woman.
Nor the cold emptiness left behind by Neyra’s unopened door.
That night… sleep wasn’t really an option.
Far from there in an abandoned building...
The darkness was thick. Not from lack of light, but from the absence of meaning.
Neyra’s first awakening was abrupt, sharp, brutal. A slap across her face cracked her neck to the side. It wasn’t extreme, but it was exact—just enough to jolt her out of the numbness, to remind her that her body no longer belonged to her.
Her head buzzed, but her trained mind clung to protocol.
She was shackled to a metal chair. Ankles immobilized. Wrists locked at unnatural angles. The air around her was damp, devoid of identity. No clocks. No ambient sound. Nothing to anchor her to reality.
In front of her, a woman stood tall—angular face, surgical eyes—studying her like a specimen.
Elainne Voss.
Neyra didn’t flinch. Recognition had no place here.
—Full name, Elainne ordered, without raising her voice.
Neyra blinked slowly, as if struggling to understand.
—W-Where…? What’s happening?
Another slap. This time on the other cheek.
—Name.
—Synnara Heldewyn —Neyra said with a trembling voice. The alias was memorized weeks ago.
—Occupation?
—Logistics analyst. Contracted. Nothing important.
Elainne placed a small bag on the table. Inside: fragments of magical equipment.
—And this?
—Part of a field kit they handed out at the base. Environmental sensors, a radio—nothing special.
A nearby terminal was activated. The data showed a valid registration.
But not for this region.
A sudden blow to the abdomen cut her breath. Neyra doubled over slightly, gritting her teeth to hold back a groan.
—Try again —Elainne said coldly.
Neyra paused. Calculated. Shifted her answer slightly.
—I’m a remote systems technician. Subcontracted to calibrate magical weapons in the field. That’s what the equipment is for.
Elainne leaned in. Two fingers lifted Neyra’s chin.
—Your pupils don’t lie —she murmured—. I believe you… just a little.
She let go of her face like something unclean.
From the shadows, Silke chuckled. Violeta remained silent.
—Why were you in that area?
—I was meeting someone. A friend. He never showed.
—Name?
—Simon Derka. From an app. I don’t know if that was his real name.
Elainne sighed in annoyance.
Another slap. Mechanical.
—You had no valid reason to be there. But you don’t look like a spy. Just a civilian… with luck.
She turned her head slightly toward the shadows.
—Do it.
Silke smiled like she’d been offered dessert. She stepped forward gracefully, feline. Behind Neyra now, she gently brushed two pale fingers against her temple.
—This won’t hurt… much.
The magic slid in.
Cold.
Invasive.
An invisible torrent stabbed into Neyra’s mind like venom searching for roots. Her body trembled. She wanted to resist—but not too much. She had to let it in… just enough.
Then the memory came.
A lonely street. A thief with a knife. A struggle. A fall. Blood. Confusion.
False. All of it.
Her mind knew it was fake. But her body began to accept it.
The invasion burned.
Not like fire. Like claws digging through living memory.
Neyra clenched her teeth. A low cry slipped out. A restrained moan. Her eyes stung. Her temples pounded like war drums.
—Shhh… easy —Silke whispered—. It’s almost over.
Neyra said nothing. She let the image carve its place without fully absorbing it. She couldn’t reject it. But she would not surrender.
When the pressure lifted, her body dropped backward like a ragdoll.
Silke licked her lips.
—Such an interesting mind.
Elainne folded her arms.
—Good. Get rid of her.
Violeta finally spoke:
—Everything’s still on track. No one suspects a thing.
Elainne picked Neyra up without difficulty. Carried her out. Dropped her in a dim, damp alley.
The ground was cold.
The air, still.
Neyra was still breathing.
Still awake.
And above all…
She still remembered.
Seravenn, morning
Breath came back before control.
A spasm surged through her spine, and her lungs gasped for air like someone dragged out of drowning.
The ground was damp. Cold. It reeked of stale urine and ash.
Neyra opened her eyes slowly. The world hadn't stopped. Only she had.
She tried to move. Her hands trembled, but her legs... her legs were a different story. Pain settled deep at the base of her spine, as if each vertebra had been weighed down by something invisible.
She crawled first. Thin, shaky arms scraping against the concrete. Until she could sit. And breathe.
"Remember. You have to remember."
And she did.
Every word. Every strike. Every implanted lie. It was all still there, sealed like a splinter beneath the skin. She hadn’t forgotten.
She hadn’t allowed it.
Silke.
The white-haired woman.
The anomaly.
It wasn’t a theory anymore. Not a vague gut feeling. It was real. And she wasn’t alone.
She had to warn them. Velka. Lyss.
She had to go back.
Neyra braced one hand against the nearest wall. Then the other. And with a gasp barely louder than a breath, she forced herself upright.
Her body swayed like a newborn fawn. She limped, dragging her left foot. Every step was a pact with pain. But she didn’t stop.
The street stretched on like an eternity. Asphalt echoed her uneven footsteps.
A couple of people glanced at her. One man stepped forward.
—Are you okay? Should I call someone?
Neyra turned her face slightly. The eyes of something that had stepped past a threshold. No fear. No thanks. Only resolve.
—I’m fine —she murmured, lips cracked.
She kept walking.
Each block was an ocean. Each corner, a battlefield.
But she kept going.
The memory of Silke’s eyes—that inhuman calm—pushed her. The whisper of Violeta’s voice still burned at her nape.
She had to tell them.
Before it was too late.
Before someone else fell.
The sky began to lighten. The city stirred. And Neyra, though broken, kept walking.
With only one thought pounding through her skull:
"I’m not alone. Neither are they. They have to know."
Early morning apartement complex
I woke up at 5:03 a.m.
A little later than usual… but enough to feel that something wasn’t right.
My body felt heavy, as if I hadn’t really slept. As if I had just closed my eyes to lie to the world.
I got up without making a sound. It wasn’t a day off. Even if it was Saturday, I still had to show up at the academy in the morning.
Especially after yesterday’s chaos.
And with Neyra still… missing.
I showered. The hot water ran down my back with a mix of relief and punishment. I had to stay focused. I couldn’t let my thoughts drag me down into useless spirals. But the silence weighed more than any word.
When I got out, I dried off quickly and slipped into the institutional uniform, all required accessories in place. Before closing the wardrobe, I reached for a small black bag with a hidden compartment. Inside, I packed the blue dress —the one I had chosen with hesitation, but that somehow made me feel different—, the modest heels, and the last of the chocolate cookies I had baked. I wrapped them carefully in wax paper and tucked them into a small box. I hoped Silas like them.
Everything was ready… or almost.
I stepped out into the hallway. It felt colder than usual. When I reached the elevator, the door at the far end of the hall opened without warning.
Velka.
She looked disheveled, holding a thermal mug, with an expression that danced between surprise and mischief.
—What are you doing up this early, looking like you're heading to a funeral? —she blinked, then narrowed her eyes at the bag I was carrying—. Don’t tell me that bag has what I think it has.
I tried not to answer. Just swallowed hard.
—You’re going to the academy in uniform… and bringing a change of clothes? On this day?
—Just in case —I replied quickly—. I might change later, after work, if there's time.
Velka raised an eyebrow. Then stepped closer.
—Are those cookies too? did you bake them in the middle of the night again? —her tone softened—. Is it… for him again?
I didn’t know what to say. I tightened the zipper on the bag.
—Come on. At least let me fix your hair a little. You need to look like someone who's not falling apart today —she grabbed my wrist before I could object—. Also… we need to talk about Neyra.
We went into her apartment. It looked messy, like she hadn’t really slept. While she searched for her brush and a bit of light makeup, she said:
—Still nothing. No word from Neyra. Her room is untouched. Not a single sign that she's been back.
I nodded. I sat in front of the mirror in silence. Velka started brushing my hair with more gentleness than I expected.
—You know if she were okay, she’d be back by now —she finally said—. I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t normal anymore.
—I know —I whispered.
Neither of us added anything else. Only the sound of the brush gliding through my hair filled the air.
When she finished, she gave me a smile with a different kind of tenderness. Like she knew that faking stability was the only thing we could do right now.
I went down alone a few minutes later. Silas wasn’t there yet. It was still early. We weren’t supposed to meet for a while.
I sat on the bench in the lobby, bag resting on my lap, cookie box inside.
I looked toward the entrance.
Two people I wanted to see today… and neither had arrived yet.
I arrived at the academy at 7:30.
The city was barely waking up, but inside, it was already a controlled chaos. Staff rushing around with papers, overloaded terminals, orders being shouted across offices.
I waited.
I knew Silas would be there early too, even if only for a short while.
And he didn’t take long to appear.
He was carrying a file box under one arm, his hair slightly tousled, like he hadn’t had much time to get ready.
—Good morning —he said, smiling the moment he saw me.
—Hey —I replied, more shyly than I expected. I felt the heat rise up my neck almost instantly.
—I’ve been told I’m allowed to leave early. I’m heading home to change, and I’ll meet you at the station.
—Two o’clock, right?
—Yeah. Don’t be too punctual —he teased, then added in a lower voice—. But don’t make me wait too long either… I’m kind of looking forward to seeing you without the uniform.
I laughed. I didn’t know what to say. I just nodded with a smile and watched him disappear into the noise of the building.
A little later, one of the coordinators passed by and informed me that due to protocol and staff shortages, I was also allowed to leave early. I could clock out at ten.
I nodded, thanked her.
And didn’t wait another minute.
I went straight home without looking at anyone. My heart was tight, but for once, it wasn’t anxiety. It was something else. A blend of nerves and longing.
I took a second shower that morning. Washed my hair. Shaved. Put on perfume.
Then I opened the bag where I had carefully stored the blue dress.
I put it on slowly.
The heels.
The small hair clip.
And then… I sat down in front of the mirror.
I picked up the makeup kit Velka had left me the night before. I hesitated. Took a breath.
And started applying it. Nothing flashy. Just enough. A soft liner. Barely-there blush. A gloss for my lips.
I wanted to look nice.
But more than that, I wanted to feel nice.
When I finished, I looked at the reflection—
And for the first time in a long time, I smiled without holding back.
I grabbed the little box of cookies. Slipped it into my bag.
And stepped outside.
I didn’t think of anything else. Not the event.
Not the academy.
Not the city preparing itself for celebration.
Even Neyra, wich still linger in my mind became a blur, athough I was still worried. But today I was preocupied with him...
Only of him.
At that station.
At two.
1:45 PM Seravenn
I boarded the transport with slightly trembling hands.
I carried the bag with my change of clothes on one side… and the cookies in a small box wrapped in golden paper.
I couldn’t stop looking at it.
As if I didn’t know the exact moment to give them to him.
As if I feared they wouldn’t be enough.
The ride was short.
Shorter than I would’ve liked.
As if time itself had turned against me.
I got off at the central station and the air hit me with a soft breeze, almost teasing.
I walked slowly.
Not because of the heels—though they certainly didn’t help—but because my heart was pounding so hard I was afraid it would show on my face.
The station was already full of movement, but I didn’t see any of it.
I was only looking for him.
Only him.
I leaned for a moment against one of the stone pillars. Checked the clock.
Just a few minutes left.
And still, my breathing was already a mess, like I was late.
Was this really happening?
I fixed my hair, checked the cookie box again, made sure my makeup was still in place.
And just as I was about to take a step forward…
There he was.
Silas.
Standing by the side gate of the station, wearing a perfectly fitted shirt, an elegant jacket, and jeans. He had that effortless look that made him somehow even more attractive.
He turned when he heard my steps, and for a second, he was speechless.
—W-wow… —he murmured, scratching the back of his neck—. You look… incredible, Lyria.
Part of me blushed more than I wanted to.
I noticed how he looked at me, but it wasn’t with lust.
It was… like he was truly seeing me.
I looked at him, too.
He looked good. Really good.
And not just physically.
There was something genuine in the way he looked at me, something that made everything else fade away.
—Ready to go? —he asked, offering me his arm like some old-fashioned gentleman.
—Yes —I said, taking his arm.
And we walked together toward the library, as if, for a little while, the world belonged only to us.