"I'm late, I'm late!" Carol hissed under her breath, her boots thundering against the polished stone of the corridor.

  "I really shouldn't have stayed up so late last night." She let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. "This stupid habit of min—"

  Before she could finish the thought, she collided with something soft and small.

  "O-ouch..."

  "I-I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!" the other girl exclaimed, her voice pitching up in a panic.

  The girl, small with a mop of messy blonde hair, scrambled to her feet and offered Carol a hand. Carol paused for a moment, staring at the outstretched palm before looking up at the girl’s face.

  "I'm fine, but..." Carol narrowed her eyes slightly. "Who are you?"

  "I'm Sa—" The girl suddenly winced, accidentally biting her own tongue mid-sentence.

  (What a weird girl,) Carol thought, watching with a detached curiosity as the stranger clutched her mouth, trying to soothe the pain. Despite the awkwardness, Carol reached out and accepted the help.

  "Huh?" the girl blinked, looking confused as if she hadn't expected Carol to actually take her hand.

  "I'm Caroline. Caroline Erlikh. You can call me Carol, if you want."

  "N-n-n-n-nice to meet you!" the girl chirped, bowing so low she nearly hit the floor. "I'm Tharia! Tharia Wisp!"

  "Saria Wisp or Tharia Wisp?" Carol teased, a small smirk playing on her lips.

  "It's... Saria, C-Carol," she mumbled, her face flushing a deep crimson.

  Carol let out a short, genuine giggle. "Fine. Saria it is."

  "Uhm, if you don't mind..." Saria started, fidgeting with the hem of her robe.

  "Yeah?"

  "Can we... be friends?!" Saria shouted nervously, braced herself for a moment as if expected to be pushed away.

  The request was so blunt and sudden that Carol felt the world tilt for a second. She blinked in confusion, but before she could answer, the campus clock tower tolled a deafening chime, signaling the start of the next hour.

  Later, in the crowded canteen, the air was thick with the smell of stew and the roar of a hundred conversations. Carol sat slumped at a table, her irritation rising with every second. Revir was leaning back, laughing at her expense, while Rein sat across from them, eyes buried in a thick tome, shrouded in his usual silence.

  "Is that... really why you were late?" Revir wheezed between laughs. "Just because some clumsy girl bumped into you?"

  "You really want to get punched, don't you?" Carol asked, her smile turning sharp and menacing.

  Revir cleared his throat, sensing the danger, and straightened up. "Jokes aside, have you heard the history about the Child of Light?"

  "The Child of Light?" Carol repeated, the title tasting strange on her tongue.

  Rein didn't look up, but he finally spoke, his voice cool and academic. "It is a title bestowed by the Royal Church. Usually, it is given to a specific Margia born with the rare gift of Holy Magic."

  "A title, huh? What, are they supposed to be a savior or something?" Carol asked, leaning forward.

  "Something like that," Rein replied, finally closing his book with a soft thud. "In fact, the first generation of the Child of Light was the one who defeated the Leviathan during the ancient wars. The same story our lecturers keep repeating, the first 'Margia' to conquer the beast."

  "You really know your stuff, don't you, Gloomy?" Revir said with a casual grin, stretching his arms behind his head.

  Rein ignored the nickname, though a small vein throbbed in his temple. "It's called a basic history, Revir."

  Elsewhere, the atmosphere was far less casual. In a quiet classroom, a noble girl with a fiery red ponytail and an air of supreme arrogance cornered Saria.

  "How useless!" the girl spat, her group of followers closing in like wolves.

  "What do you—" Saria started, but the noble girl lunged forward, grabbing Saria’s robe and bunching it in her fist.

  "I asked you nicely to take it, didn't I? How could you fail such a simple, pathetic task!" she hissed, her face inches from Saria’s.

  "I... I'm sorry..! Please, I promise I'll try again—"

  "I don't want to hear your repetitive excuses!" The noble girl shoved Saria back, releasing her grip with a look of pure disgust. "Listen. This is your last chance. You know the consequences of failing me again, don't you?"

  "Y-yes..." Saria whispered, her head bowed.

  Later that evening, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long, orange shadows across the campus. Carol was headed back to her dorm when she spotted Saria standing near the library, looking around with a frantic, hunted expression.

  "What are you doing here, Saria?"

  "C-c-c-c-Carol?!"

  "Why do you look so spooked? It's getting late," Carol noted, her voice flat but her eyes observant.

  "I..." Saria’s gaze darted away. (I can’t tell her. If I do, they'll hurt her too...)

  "Are you okay? You look pale—"

  "Please excuse me!" Saria suddenly blurted out, turning on her heel and sprinting away.

  "Wait!" Carol yelled, but the girl was already gone.

  (I'm sorry, Carol. I don't want you to involved in this. I hope you'll understand,) Saria thought. Her lungs burning as she ran toward the only place she thought she could hide.

  Finally reached on the rooftop, Saria gasping for air, only to realize she was cornered. "This place..?" she sighed, her heart sinking.

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  "Why the long face?"

  Saria froze. The noble girl was already there, leaning against the railing with a cruel smirk.

  "How..?" Saria’s eyes widened in fear, didn't expect the girl would know her location.

  "Let's just say," the girl snapped her fingers, and several students acting as bodyguards stepped out from the shadows of the stairwell, "I have eyes all over this campus. Now then, give me the grimoire."

  Saria clutched the book to her chest, her knuckles white. Yet, her fingers around it tremble so badly that she nearly dropped it.

  "Oh?" The noble girl looked genuinely surprised. "You're actually going to hold onto it?"

  "I... I don't think... this grimoire belongs in your hands," Saria stammered, her voice shaking but her grip firm.

  "And why is that?"

  "This grimoire... it’s dangerous. It should be sealed!" Saria pressed her lips together, forcing the courage to rise. "It’s forbidden for a student... especially someone like you... to have it!"

  "I see." The noble girl’s smile didn't falter, but her eyes grew cold. "That is quite a bold thing for you to say to me."

  "Huh..?"

  "It sounds like... you’re trying to defy me."

  "N-no! I didn't mean to—"

  "Yes, you did!" The girl drew her wand, the tip glowing with a spark of her ender. "I’ve been waiting for you to finally stand your ground! Let's see what you've got against me, the daughter of the Ignis Holder!"

  Saria fell to her knees, the sheer pressure of the girl’s killing intent making her feel nauseous. Through it, a fragmented memory flickered in her mind, a dark flashback she couldn't escape.

  “It’s because of that child we lost everything!”

  “P-please consider it, honey! She doesn't mean to-”

  “Shut your mouth, you pesky woman!” he yelled, pointing his wand against her as few water spikes appeared beside him, ready to be launched anytime soon.

  She sinking to the ground in fear as a result, though still tried her best to begging her husband for forgiveness. "Please... she's just a child. She also deserve her own happiness..."

  He snorted in disbelief. "More like a retribution. That omen... should never be born, you know?"

  "Let this be a lesson, Saria," the Daughter of Ignis said, pointing her wand down at the trembling girl. "I want to see just how strong you really are when you're backed into a corner."

  She unleashed the spell of a fireball, where Saria closed her eyes tightly. However... the spell didn't managed to hit her instead.

  "Is this why you were running away from me?" a voice of a girl rang out, bored yet sharp. She stood in front of Saria, having deflected the spell with an effortless flick of her own power. The impact barely made her arm ache. "I’m a little disappointed, Saria."

  Heard a familiar voice called upon her name, Saria opened her eyes, only to be wildly shocked by the appearance of Carol. "Ca-ca-ca-ca—"

  "Yeah, it’s me. No need to have a heart attack," Carol said, turned her body behind as she offered a hand to Saria.

  "Why... why did you save me? How did you find this place?"

  "First off, I'm your friend. And friends help each other, right?" Carol state, her tone were a light one.

  "A friend..." Saria hesitated, a strange warmth spreading through her chest.

  "Secondly, you weren't exactly quiet. Your shouting led me right here, even if it took a minute to find the right door."

  Saria let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "I... I suppose I was pretty loud." Then, accepted such offer from Carol as she stood up.

  The sound brought a rare, genuine smile to Carol’s face.

  "How touching," the Ignis's daughter interrupted, her voice trembling with rage. She blasted the rooftop door off its hinges with a burst of flame.

  "Oh, you're still here," Carol said with her nonchalant tone, turned her body back in front along the way.

  "Of course I am! You think a kicked door can stop me?" the daughter stated. Her gaze was a contempt against Carol.

  "You... you kicked the door?" Saria asked in disbelief.

  "Relax, Saria. Nobody died."

  Suddenly, the Daughter of Ignis was in Carol's space, the tip of her wand pressed hard against Carol’s throat. "I hope you understand the consequences of your 'little oopsie'," she whispered with pure, concentrated malice. "Caroline Erlikh."

  "How kind of you to know my name. I'm just a common Margia, you know?" Carol replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  In that moment, Carol's own sarcasm was the final straw.

  "That's it!" the Ignis's daughter snarled, pulling her wand away. "We settle this with a duel. A real one!"

  "Heh, now you're talking," Carol said smugly. "Where and when?"

  "The center of Calle Forest. 5:00 P.M. tomorrow," the daughter announced. As she and her entourage swept toward the exit, she looked back over her shoulder. "I'll make you regret the day you were born, Erlikh."

  Once they were gone, Carol clapped Saria on the shoulder with a calm attitude. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

  "R-right..." Saria answered hesitantly. But, within her mind, countless questions lingered.

  On the walk back to the dorms, the silence grew heavy.

  "Why...?" Saria finally whispered, stopped in the middle of walk.

  Heard Saria's words, Carol also stopped, looked out toward the horizon before she turned toward Saria. "I heard she’s related to one of the Holders. Who knows... she might have something I need."

  "You really think so?"

  "I can't answer that yet, Saria," Carol said, turning as they reached the dormitory. "Come to my room. We barely know each other, and if I'm going to fight for you, I should at least know who my friend is."

  "S-sure..." Saria felt a flutter of quiet joy.

  Inside Carol’s room, the air was different. It was calmer, safer than Saria thought.

  "I've never been in a room like this," Saria said softly.

  "Have a seat," Carol gestured to a chair while she sat on the edge of her bed. "So, how did you get mixed up with those people?"

  "Well... it started a few months ago. When the Royal Church transferred me here." Saria began as she walked toward the chair, sat down.

  (The Royal Church?) Carol's thought. Her interest piqued.

  Saria let out a heavy sigh. "The Pope... he chose me. He said I had to learn how the world works. It was against my wishes, but I couldn't say no."

  In Saria’s memory, the Great Hall of the Church was cold and echoing. “This is where you belong, Child of Light,” a voice from a Pope echoed across the hall. “I will transfer you to Verlyn. Do not fail me, and I assure you, there will be no bloodshed in your presence.”

  "The promise of 'no bloodshed' felt like a threat," Saria whispered to Carol. "And that’s how I ended up here."

  "I see. This 'Pope' sounds like he knows exactly how to manipulate people," Carol remarked.

  "You have no idea," Saria agreed.

  "And after you arrived, you met her?"

  "Yeah. I don't know why she hates me so much. Everyone says she’s nice to others. Maybe... she knows who I am? That I’m the Child of Light?" Saria stated, confused at her own situation.

  "Even if she knows, it doesn't explain her attitude," Carol said, glancing at the clock. "It’s getting late. We should get some sleep. We have a duel to prepare for, after all."

  "I-is that so?" Saria stood up from the chair, slightly bow and raised her head with grateful smile draw across her face. "T-thanks for inviting me over!"

  "No worries," Carol stood up from her bed. She walking Saria to the door. "I should be the one who feel grateful, you know? I learn quite a lot." she replied with a smile.

  Heard such compliment from Carol, she chuckled in embarrassed as she brushed the back of her head. "Again, thanks for having me here, Carol. I hope you have a Good sleep this night!"

  Carol snorted out of amusement. "You too, Saria."

  As the door closed, both girls were left with their own thoughts, the weight of the coming duel hanging in the air.