Third Person POV
"Hehh~ you noticed me? Quite impressive for a kid," the figure said, their voice honeyed with amusement.
Alaric didn't respond right away. His grip on Faelux shifted slightly as he slowly began inching toward the arbour's steps, never taking his eyes off the figure.
"What's your name?" the stranger asked, taking a casual step forward.
Alaric's reply came immediately, with a lopsided shrug and the light tone of someone who didn't plan to cooperate. "Not telling," he said breezily, cocking his head. "I asked first, didn't I? So answer m—"
"I'm Faelux!" the boy in his arms shouted with bright, unfiltered energy, completely unaware of the tension in the air. He hadn't even looked at the speaker—he just assumed the question was his to answer.
Alaric sighed softly through his nose. "Of course you are…"
Still facing the figure, he took another step back, his heel brushing the edge of the first stair.
The masked figure let out a low chuckle at the boy's outburst.
Alaric's gaze remained fixed on the two glowing gold eyes that pierced through the dark hood and pale mask. No features were visible, but those eyes… they lingered.
The figure stepped forward.
But Alaric didn't move.
Not yet.
"So you must be Alaric Athran, rig—"
A sharp crack cut through the sentence.
A stone whistled through the air, slicing straight toward the intruder's face.
The golden eyes widened—for a fraction of a second—before narrowing, cold and focused. The figure's hand blurred, a fluid motion snatching the projectile out of the air like plucking fruit from a tree.
There was silence.
Then, dryly, "...What was that for?"
A smirk tugged at the edge of Alaric's lips.
Behind him, the step had crumbled—dust cloud swirling and rising just high enough to veil his lower half in a cloud.
"That was," he said quietly, "for a test."
The figure tilted their head. Even with the mask on, the confusion was visible. There was a faint sound of grinding.
Alaric called out again, tone far too light for the atmosphere, "We were playing catch. You seem good at it... So, why not join us?"
The words seemed to disarm more than provoke. But there was no time for explanations.
Alaric took one step back. Then another. His foot touched the dirt, leaving the final stair behind.
"Catch these."
The dust cloud from before dispersed with the breeze.
Stones—dozens of them—spinning, on the step. The grinding was from the stones.
"Wai—" the masked figure began.
But the moment was gone.
The stones fired in unison.
They screamed through the air and flew towards the figure. The ones that flew past the intruder hit the beams.
With the beams getting damaged, the shade gave way.
A thunder of impact followed, a larger dust cloud rising. But Alaric wasn't there.
"Alrighty, Lux. Here we are," Alaric murmured, breathless as he stopped to bend down and set Faelux on the ground. "Go. Run."
But Faelux didn't move.
"Lux?" Urgency crept into his voice.
Faelux blinked up at him. "Count?"
Alaric's heart sank.
Of course. He'd said it was a race.
"Sure. 3... 2... 1," Alaric rushed through the numbers so fast they barely existed.
Faelux crouched like a spring ready to pop—his tiny legs trembling with the excitement of a countdown, not the danger that loomed.
"Go!"
But Alaric's luck didn't hold.
There was no time to react.
Just a blur.
Then, a palm slammed into his chest.
He was airborne before his mind caught up, his body flung like a ragdoll. The sky spun. Dirt met him hard. He tumbled until gravity saw fit to stop him.
"Alaric, right?" The intruder's voice broke the silence.
"You see more than your face lets on."
Alaric coughed. Pain rippled through his ribs. He turned his head—
Faelux.
The boy had been caught in his fall, knocked over like a toy by Alaric's body. He was sitting on the ground now, frozen, sniffling, trying not to cry but failing miserably.
Alaric reached toward him.
But the figure stepped between them.
The masked figure stood just ahead, towering over Alaric, golden eyes gleaming beneath the hood. For a moment, they didn't speak. Then they tilted their head again, thoughtfully.
"So," they murmured, gaze flicking toward Faelux, "you knew you couldn't escape. You chose to act as bait instead."
Alaric didn't answer. His hand remained outstretched.
"You knew that the guards swap shifts at this hour." The figure's eyes narrowed, just slightly. "So you have no backups. Just you and a child. So you decided to make a chance for him to run away."
Faelux let out a sob. He tried to crawl away, but his knees wobbled.
The masked figure took a single step forward.
"What now?" the figure mocked, voice dry with amusement. "Want to try something else?"
Alaric didn't answer. He could tell—he was being toyed with.
"Or..." The figure lifted one leg slowly, deliberately, and held it above Faelux, who was still trembling. "Do you need me to fire you up?"
Their gaze flicked toward Alaric. "This should do."
The foot came down like a hammer.
"Stay away from him."
Alaric surged forward. He hurled himself like a bullet, aiming to headbutt the figure with reckless abandon.
But the figure shifted, and Alaric missed.
"Tch."
Alaric skidded forward, but didn't stop. He twisted, spun, drove his fist toward the figure. Then another. Anything that would land.
Nothing did.
The figure moved without a sound, weaving through every strike with effortlessness.
Then, a wall of water, a translucent veil rippling between them, was formed.
"Hmm." The figure almost sounded curious. "You're not bad at casting. I'll give you that."
The figure stood there, silently watching.
Through the walls of water, rocks were shot again, but the figure simply lifted their arms and caught two of them mid-flight and used the rocks to deflect the rest.
"If you could form projectiles without the support of earth, maybe you could have landed a few hits."
They stepped forward, unhurried.
Then, without warning, their hand plunged through the water wall and seized Alaric by the collar. He was yanked off the ground, his boots kicking helplessly in the air.
A sharp point pressed just under his chin—one of the same stones he'd conjured, now gripped tightly in their hand.
"Done?" the figure asked, tilting their head.
Alaric didn't respond, but the rock crumbled to dust.
"Almost," he muttered and raised his hand toward their mask.
His palm flared.
A ball of flame burst to life with a roar, casting light and heat in a flash. The figure's eyes narrowed.
"What the—"
They dropped him instantly, stepping back. Alaric landed hard but didn't waste time—he hurled the fireball straight at them.
It was large.
Dangerous.
And absolutely pointless.
The figure swung their arm and, with the back of their hand, smacked the searing orb aside with no resistance.
The fireball sailed past, landing several meters away and detonating in a fiery burst behind them.
Faelux was far enough to be safe.
But Alaric wasn't.
He had barely pushed himself upright when he felt the hand again.
This time around his neck.
He was lifted once more, gasping, feet dangling.
"No more tricks," the figure said softly.
Alaric stared at them.
His strongest attack hadn't even made her flinch.
Still—
"From me? Yes," his lips curled. "That was loud enough."
For the first time, Alaric saw it—those golden eyes trembled.
They were wide.
Afraid.
Before he could process it, the figure dropped him. He hit the ground with a dull thud just as the cloaked stranger crouched and wrapped her arms tightly around herself like a scared animal.
"Wait—stop, stop, STOP! It's me!" the voice cracked with panic.
"Huh?" Alaric blinked at his father, who had appeared like a shadow. His arm was raised, fingers stiff, hovering just inches from the stranger.
Novius stopped and stared at the cloaked figure for a moment. His face was unreadable then with swift motion, he punched the figure's head.
"Ow!" the figure cried out, clutching her skull and wobbling slightly.
Novius's brows twitched. Even Alaric had flinched from the sound.
"That really hurt…"
For a moment, he looked… annoyed. He let out a sharp breath before grabbing the cloak and pulling it off.
Vibrant red hair fell out of the hood, revealing a woman.
She sat and groaned while rubbing her head before slowly standing up and patting dust off of her white top and black tights that she was pairing with her shorts.
Her eyes moved to glance at Novius, but looking at him still glaring at her, she groaned again, exaggerated this time, before finally meeting Alaric's stunned gaze.
She stared back for a moment before a low, mischievous chuckle escaped her lips as she raised a hand and peeled away the mask to reveal her face.
She smiled brightly at Alaric, "Hello~"
"...What?"
While Alaric was still stuck wondering what was happening, just like Novius, Xironia appeared, and it didn't even take a second before she was clutching the redhead's ear and twisting it.
"Owww~ I am sorry!"
"How many times do I have to tell you to act like a normal human when you meet someone new?"
Xironia wasn't the only one who appeared. The guards and Aurelia were on the grounds too, the maids were peeking from inside along with the butlers, and all of them were making similar expressions. One that was not surprised at all, but it was surely full of visible exhaustion.
No one approached Xironia until she was done with the girl's ear, leaving it bright red.
The red-headed girl looked up with a pained expression. "It hurts."
"It better do."
"Eek," in Alaric's eyes, the girl's form was just turning smaller and smaller like a cornered cat while Xironia looked at her with Faelux still sniffing in her arms.
"Don't mind her. That girl… is a blockhead," Novius kept a hand on Alaric's shoulder and sighed.
"Who even is she?"
"Her name is Sabrina Scarlet. One of the geniuses in this generation from the Avalon academy… and my only student."