With her arms stretched behind her, hands gripping the edge of the stone bench, Arimélia extended her legs, hoping to ease the pain that tugged at her muscles. Her draconic form always brought undesirable side effects whenever she pushed her limits beyond what she could handle.
"I was really useless today… Professor Ezekiel is so strict, he tolerates no mistakes… I wonder how the princess managed… Elwyn and Loyd seem to get along well, despite their differences… Elwyn… There's something special about his gaze… That look that says nothing in this world can shake him… Actually, he has the same look as him… Why am I thinking about him now? That’s in the past… I need to move on… I must…"
— Hey, Ari, are you alright? asked Princess Syria, freshly out of her magic css.
Arimélia snapped out of her thoughts and turned her head toward Syria, who had stopped beside her.
— Princess Syria… Did your css go well? she asked, still a bit dazed.
— Yes, the st one wasn’t too difficult, but the one before… I really would have liked to skip that, replied the princess in a compining tone.
— You never really liked exercising back at the castle…
— That’s true. I hate ending up covered in sweat. It smells bad, and the clothes stick to your skin, Syria retorted.
— That may be, but it’s good for your health. And besides, you can always take a bath and change afterward. A strong body will help you if you ever find yourself in trouble, Arimélia replied.
— Hihihi, in case of trouble, you’ll always be there to help me, right?
The half-dragon sighed in exasperation.
— You’re truly unbelievable, princess…
— Well, I’ll have to leave you, Ari. I’m going to take a shower and change. See you ter, Syria said, waving.
— See you ter, princess…
Left alone, Arimélia lifted her eyes to the sky, watching the clouds drift with the wind.
A few minutes ter, footsteps echoed nearby, and she turned her head to see Elwyn approaching, holding a wooden cup. He extended it toward her.
— I just came from the infirmary; the healer gave me a remedy for you. Professor Ezekiel requested its preparation.
Arimélia looked at both the young boy’s face and the cup before finally taking it.
— Thank you… she said hesitantly, before taking a sip. The bitterness made her grimace.
— I suppose it’s not to your liking, Elwyn noted, seeing her expression distort after just one sip.
— You could say that… They often say effective remedies rarely taste good, she replied.
Elwyn’s gaze quickly scanned Arimélia’s body. He realized she was suffering from muscle pain caused by her training.
— Is your training going well? Given your condition, you should probably take it easy for the next few days, he suggested.
— I’m fine, it’s just… it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything this intense…
— I see. In that case, good luck with your training and… remember to return your cup to the infirmary. I’m going to go wash up and change. See you ter.
— See you ter, she replied, her gaze fixed on the bottom of her cup.
_________________________
Meanwhile, Loyd was in the office of the Divinity Ogme, alongside Professor Ezekiel, who had already been present when he arrived.
— Now that you’re both here, I’d like your opinions on your disciples, Ogme stated.
At this request, Ezekiel sighed in exasperation.
— Well, Arimélia… She’s quite mediocre. She has immense destructive potential, but she fears it more than anything. And her ck of confidence isn’t helping her. I’m willing to help her control her strength and draconic power, but she first needs to work on herself if she wants to improve.
Ogme nodded slowly.
— I see what you mean, Professor Ezekiel. Unfortunately, the situation isn’t that simple. She was given as a political hostage to Hercor by her people from Valmuldrak. She grew up in a hostile environment, and things didn’t improve after the Hérathis incident. I hope that here, things will change for her.
— Ogme, how did you manage to take her in if she was a political hostage? Ezekiel asked, seeking crification.
— The conflict between Valmuldrak and Hercor has gone on for too long. With Bahamut’s awakening, Erzissa decided to intervene, and Arimélia was sent as a hostage to the humans, under the condition that her life wouldn’t be endangered. That was no longer the case after the Hérathis attack three years ago. I then offered my assistance to the royal family and Erzissa.
— Alright, that makes sense… but given what happened today, I doubt this pce will be peaceful for her.
— I’m aware of the situation, but Prince Lorian is also informed, so he shouldn’t cause too many problems.
— I hope for your sake that’s true. I don’t want to see the Divinity of Peace show up if there’s an incident involving Arimélia.
— Neither do I. Fortunately for us, if any problem arises in the next four years, we have Elwyn avaible to mitigate the damage. Speaking of which, Loyd, how is he doing?
Loyd, who had remained silent until then, finally focused on Ogme’s question.
— Well… for a vilger, he’s not bad. He wasn’t trained by a soldier, he’s not built to kill, but he knows how to move and adapt. He’s technically weaker without his powers, but he takes hits well and always sees attacks coming, Loyd answered.
— Very well, I have no more concerns about him then. You’re free to leave unless you have a particur request?
Loyd then turned to Ezekiel.
— Professor Ezekiel, I’d like to train with you, the Nephilim of War requested.
— What do you hope to gain from fighting me, runt? Ezekiel asked with an arrogant air.
— I want… I want to make my father pay for all the harm he has caused, Loyd replied, his fists clenched, his silver eyes filled with determination.
— I see… You hope to reach the peak of your Domain to take his pce?
— No, I just want him to pay for everything he did to me, for everything he caused, Loyd answered.
A wicked smile spread across the dhampir’s face.
— Very well, I’ll train you, but don’t disappoint me.
Ogme observed Loyd and Ezekiel in turn before concluding the conversation.
— If you both agree on this training, then I ask that you do it outside the academy. You are dismissed, the Divinity decred.
Loyd and Ezekiel bowed before leaving, heading toward the clearing where the two nephilims had trained earlier.
_________________________
After washing up and getting dressed, Elwyn found Arimélia already sitting with Princess Syria on a stone bench.
— How was your training, princess? Elwyn asked.
Syria turned to him with a compining look.
— I could have done without the physical exercises, but maniputing ether was quite rexing. Everyone progressed at their own pace.
— I see. That’s actually a good thing, being able to train at your own rhythm. I have to keep up with Loyd’s pace, and that’s not easy at all.
As he spoke, he spotted Loyd and Professor Ezekiel walking toward the Great Library.
— Elwyn, I’m going to train with Professor Ezekiel. See you ter, Loyd called as he passed by.
— Alright, good luck, Elwyn replied with a wave.
— Well, that one sure has energy, Syria remarked.
— It’s because regur training increases endurance, allowing longer sessions, Arimélia expined.
— I know that, but I don’t want to end up as muscur as him. I still want to wear elegant dresses after the academy, Syria retorted.
— Princess Syria, please don’t exaggerate. A little exercise will maintain your figure and even tone certain parts of your body. Unless, of course, you’d rather become as soft and fbby as a slime? Elwyn added.
— No, never! I’d rather die than resemble those disgusting things! the princess excimed.
— Then push through, princess. Like everything else, it’s hard at first and easy to give up, but perseverance is rewarding, Arimélia said with a smile.
— Ugh… Alright, I’ll do my best then… Syria finally conceded, giving up on any hope of an easy way out.
Elwyn’s gaze was suddenly drawn to the west side of the Great Library, precisely where Nalinaya’s office was located. Intrigued by strange movements in the ether, he activated his etheric vision. He then distinguished numerous etheric messengers, taking the form of various animals, entering the office, while others, transformed into butterflies, gracefully flew off in all directions.
This shift in Elwyn’s attention did not go unnoticed by Princess Syria.
— Is something wrong? she asked.
— No, nothing to worry about. I just noticed there’s a lot of communication between the academy and the outside world.
— What do you mean? I don’t see anything… Oh, wait, yes! There’s a little red thing that just entered the office. You really have good eyesight, Elwyn.
— Etheric messengers? Arimélia interjected.
— Yes, there are many. They’re going in and out of Vice-Director Nalinaya’s office. I wonder how they’re created, Elwyn replied, intrigued.
Arimélia smiled at the question and straightened slightly to look in the same direction as him.
— It’s an advanced form of ether control. You take a certain amount of ether and shape it into a messenger, sculpting it around a pre-written message or leaving it empty. Then, you visualize the recipient as precisely as possible. This technique is reserved for those with excellent ether control because it comes with risks.
Syria crossed her arms, looking perplexed.
— So, these little red things are made of ether? And you can entrust them with any message?
Arimélia nodded.
— Exactly. But they only deliver what they are given, and their creation requires absolute precision and concentration. Otherwise…
— Otherwise what? Syria asked, curiosity shining in her cerulean eyes.
Arimélia hesitated for a moment before answering.
— Otherwise, the messenger can become unstable and disintegrate mid-route, meaning its message could be intercepted by anyone.
— Oh… I see. That would be really problematic, Syria mused.
After learning this information, Elwyn had an idea. He picked up a small stone from the ground and tried to replicate what the Divinity Ogme had done the previous day to summon Loyd to his office. He drew in the surrounding ether and completely enveloped the stone with it before shaping it into a messenger.
"What shape should I give it? I suppose it has to be something perfectly clear and precise, a form I know by heart… Something functional… Something I am completely familiar with… A dragon… A mechanical dragon."
Elwyn then shaped the stone into the form of his wooden mechanical dragon, which he had owned for many years and knew every detail of. Every piece, every joint, every possible movement, every spine along its back and head was taken into account. It formed, took shape, and his advanced knowledge of dragons helped refine the final details.
A small dragonet then came to life in the palm of his hand, an entity without consciousness or intelligence, a mere puppet mimicking a dragon, awaiting only its orders.
Princess Syria and Arimélia’s eyes widened in unison as they beheld the small being that had just materialized in Elwyn’s hand.
— But… how? Syria stammered.
Arimélia observed the dragonet with fascination, mixed with perplexity.
— You actually managed to create a messenger? And you made it a dragon…
Elwyn examined the tiny creature that moved slowly in his palm, spreading its wings and appearing to attempt a silent roar.
— I think… Yes. But I’m not sure if it works properly. This is the first time I’ve done this. I don’t know yet if it can reach a destination.
Syria leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with admiration and a hint of envy.
— So, it’s a real dragon! Well… in a way. That’s incredible. But… it won’t bite me, will it?
Elwyn shook his head.
— No, don’t worry. It’s harmless. It’s just an ether projection, a mindless puppet.
Arimélia nodded, her gaze shifting between the dragonet and Elwyn.
— This level of precision is impressive. Creating a messenger that looks exactly like a dragon requires fine ether control and near-perfect visualization of a real dragon.
Elwyn shrugged.
— I didn’t do anything amazing. Ether is much easier to manipute and shape for Entities, and I just used my wooden mechanical dragon as a model. I’ve had it since childhood, I know every detail, and my knowledge of dragons helped with the finishing touches.
Arimélia thought for a moment before responding.
— That probably expins why you succeeded. Familiarity and execution precision strengthened your intent. It’s fascinating.
Meanwhile, Syria watched the dragonet in silence, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
— What if you tested it from the dining hall? That would show if it really works, she suggested.
Elwyn nodded and quickly headed toward the grand entrance, framed by its two imposing columns. He focused on the dragonet in his hand, concentrating on Arimélia as the recipient, using his physiognomist skills, linked to his Domain, for precise visualization.
The dragonet then lifted its head as if it understood, spread its wings, and gracefully leaped into the air. It twirled briefly around Elwyn before disappearing into the sky via an interpnar shift.
Meanwhile, sitting on the bench, Princess Syria raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
— If this works, he’ll have to teach me. I’ve always wanted a pet this cute.
Arimélia chuckled softly.
— It’s not a pet, princess. But if he masters the technique, he might be able to show you someday. After all, that’s part of what the special css students are for.
— Perfect. I’ll ask him to teach me as soon as possible.
— Slow down, princess. Maybe we should first wait for Elwyn to confirm whether his dragonet actually delivered its message before thinking about making more.
A few minutes ter, the dragonet reappeared from the Etheric Pne. It circled around Arimélia before nding in the palm of her right hand. There, it dissipated into a cloud of crimson mist, quickly vanishing, leaving behind only a small stone.
Arimélia smiled as she held the object.
— Mission accomplished, it seems.
Returning to the bench, Elwyn noticed his small stone now in Arimélia’s possession.
— At least now I know it works.
Syria grinned with satisfaction.
— Which means… she began.
— Which means I need to conduct another test, this time on a rger scale. Since I’d like to send letters home, I’ll write one to see if it truly works.
— You’re going to write a letter now? Syria asked, curious.
— No, I’ll do it tonight in my room. I have everything I need to write there, Elwyn replied.
— Oh… I see, murmured the princess, visibly a little disappointed.
Arimélia then stood up from the bench and turned her gaze toward the Great Library.
— Well, if this is settled for now, I’ll head to the library. There’s so much I want to learn.
Syria, suddenly enthusiastic, grabbed Arimélia’s arm.
— In that case, I’m coming with you! she excimed.
Elwyn, meanwhile, ran a hand through his hair and took a step back.
— And I’ll leave you to it, dies. I still have things to take care of on my end, he expined before shifting pnes.
The sudden disappearance of the young boy startled both girls, who exchanged surprised gnces.
— He could at least warn us before doing that, Syria grumbled, crossing her arms.
— He’s still learning, Arimélia replied with an indulgent smile. Come on, let’s go.
They set off, chatting cheerfully, while Elwyn, now alone, found a quiet and open space, perfect for training.
He clenched his fists, determined, and let the ether flow around him.
"If that sprite could move so nimbly at great heights, I can do it too. Mastering ether to travel like that would be incredibly useful, whether in combat, for escaping, or simply for exploration."
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of ether circuting around him, then slowly brought back the memory of the mischievous sprite from the previous day. Taking a deep breath, Elwyn used that image as inspiration, his gaze filled with determination, and began his exercises, fully committed to mastering this technique, no matter how long it took.
Hours passed, and everyone remained absorbed in their respective activities. Elwyn continued his solitary training, while Loyd trained with Professor Ezekiel. Meanwhile, Arimélia and Syria were engrossed in their readings, comfortably settled in the library.
Little by little, dusk enveloped the academy, signaling the time for the evening meal. One by one, the students prepared to head to the dining hall, some stopping first for a well-deserved shower.
The evening meal was much livelier and more rexed than the previous ones. The warm atmosphere seemed to break down the usual barriers between professors and students. Everyone mingled in a joyous cacophony, chatting about anything and everything, as if they were simply individuals sharing a convivial moment rather than members of a strict academy. Laughter echoed, conversations overpped, and for a while, the rigid hierarchy and discipline that governed the academy seemed to vanish.
Elwyn was surprised to see how well-regarded and appreciated Professor Ezekiel was among the older students. All of the academy’s professors were present, except for the Divinity Ogme, who much preferred the silence of his office. Throughout the evening, Vice-Director Nalinaya managed to avoid making eye contact with Elwyn, while he, for his part, had the opportunity to meet other older students alongside his three companions.
Even among the older students, the usual barriers of age, species, or origin seemed almost nonexistent to most of them.
The Nephilim of Life met individuals from the southern continent, who had notably darker skin, simir to Arimélia’s, and others from the north, whose skin was even fairer than his own.
"So, members of the same species can be vastly different physically, simply due to the climate of their homend… An adaptive evolution, in a way… I wonder how different they can be and what those differences truly mean."
The meal continued in a rexed atmosphere, but an odd sensation gradually crept over Elwyn. His thoughts swirled, preoccupied with the diversity of individuals he had encountered and his reflections on adaptive evolution. The world around him suddenly seemed rger and more complex than he had previously imagined.
As the evening wore on, conversations intensified around him. Syria was deep in discussion with students from her kingdom, occasionally drawing amused smiles. The same was true for her cousin Lorian and his two companions, although from time to time, they would throw murderous gres toward either Elwyn or Arimélia. The tter, far more reserved, listened attentively to the conversations around her while remaining somewhat lost in thought.
Loyd, meanwhile, was engaged in discussions about military tactics and strategy with anyone interested in his Domain. As for Elwyn, he was lost in his reflections, his gaze drifting into the warm, dim lighting of the grand hall.
The discussions continued for quite some time until fatigue began to set in among them. Finally, as the st diners stood to leave the hall, Elwyn rose as well, feeling the weight of the day settling on his shoulders. It was time to retire. The day had been eventful, but there were still many unanswered questions.
As he left the great hall, he crossed paths with Vice-Director Nalinaya. She looked at him for a brief moment before quickly averting her eyes.
— Good evening, Elwyn, she said, somewhat awkwardly.
— Good evening to you as well, Vice-Director, he replied with a small nod before making his way toward his dormitory.
After bidding Loyd goodnight, he settled at his desk, drafted his test letter, and sent it to Ophélia before finally colpsing into bed, exhausted from the long day.
Dear Mother-Ophélia,
This letter serves as a test to verify that I am able to use my etheric messenger correctly. Please confirm the receipt of this message so that I may send my letters properly.
Elwyn

