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Chapter 11 - Invitation

The next morning came with golden sunlight bleeding through the windows, the smell of bread from the downstairs bakery riding the breeze, and the low hum of mana shielding faintly crackling above the city rooftops.

Lucian stood by the window, his bag half-zipped, boots already on, jacket slung over one shoulder.

He sighed. Again.

"I don't see why I have to stay at the Academy," he muttered, more to the window than anyone else. "I'm literally thirty minutes away. I can just portal in or take the rail line if I really have to."

"You're going."

Lucy's voice came sharp from behind him, followed by the sound of her setting down a folded uniform on the bed.

Lucian turned, narrowing his eyes. "You didn't stay at the Academy."

She crossed her arms immediately, waiting for that line.

"Yeah. Because I had to take care of you. You were barely twelve and still mixing up mana circuits with power sockets. If I left, you'd have probably set the house on fire or adopted a void cat or something."

Lucian blinked. "Okay, first off—void cats are cool—"

"—They eat furniture, Lucian."

He tried not to grin. "Only if you forget to feed them."

She rolled her eyes and walked over to straighten his already folded uniform, smoothing the sleeves like a proper big sister. Her fingers lingered at the collar for a second, quiet.

"I'm serious," she said. "Staying at the Academy's not just about rules or formality. It's about being there. You'll make connections, learn fast, build real skills—"

"I can do all that and still sleep in my own bed."

She looked up at him, then tilted her head. "Yeah, but I won't be there to cover for you when you sneak out and blow something up by accident."

Lucian blinked again. "What makes you think I'd blow something up—"

She raised one eyebrow. Just one.

"…Okay, maybe once," he muttered.

"Twice."

"That second one was technically your fault."

"I was saving a bakery."

They both fell quiet for a second, the tension thinning, replaced by the warmth of familiar arguments and the quiet buzz of a bond that had once been lost.

Lucian looked down, voice softening. "I just… don't like the idea of leaving home again."

Lucy didn't smile, not fully. But her hand came up to ruffle his hair.

"Lucian," she said gently. "You've got to leave sometimes. So you can come back stronger."

"…That a quote from one of your old teachers?"

She smirked. "Nah. I made it up. Pretty good though, huh?"

He chuckled. "Yeah… Not bad."

A beat passed.

Then Lucy stepped back, clapped her hands once. "Alright! No more moping. Gear up. I expect you to be at the Academy gate in full uniform, boots shined, posture noble, and ego slightly inflated—"

"I'm not you."

She pointed at him. "No, but you've got my blood. Try not to embarrass me."

Lucian gave her a small salute, half-serious, half-smiling.

"No promises."

As he slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped toward the door, he glanced back at her once more. Her back was to him, hands already rearranging things like she always did.

And for a moment, just a heartbeat—

He let himself smile.

She was here.

This time, she was still here.

And he was going to make damn sure it stayed that way.

Few Minutes Later

Lucian stood at the edge of the school gate, his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the crowd of students flooding into the Academy courtyard.

Laughter. Chatter. Mana flares.

Everyone looked excited.

Or at least… like they wanted to be here.

He let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping slightly.

"Four years again, huh…" he muttered. "Am I really doing this all over?"

The gate loomed ahead—tall, ornate, edged with enchantments that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The crest of Ashvale Academy pulsed at the center, bright blue against stone.

He took a step forward.

But before his boot even touched the threshold—

"Guess who~?"

A familiar voice rang out behind him, light and playful.

He didn't have to turn to know.

"Eve."

Evelyn spun around him with a grin, her long hair catching the light, her uniform skirt fluttering just slightly as she came to stand beside him.

She folded her hands behind her back and tilted her head, eyes dancing.

"You looked like you were deep in thought. Or was that just your soul trying to escape again?"

Lucian gave a lazy shrug. "Wasn't thinking about anything."

"Oh sure, nothing." She smirked. "The kind of nothing that makes you stare dramatically at gates and question your life choices."

He tried to hold back a grin. Failed.

"You're annoying."

"Thank you," she said brightly.

She reached into her side pouch, pulling out two glossy envelopes—dark blue with gold trim, sealed with an elegant red wax stamp.

Lucian raised an eyebrow.

Evelyn handed them to him with a little flourish.

"Tada~ Official invites."

He looked down at them, brow furrowing. "What's this?"

"My grandmother's throwing a party tomorrow at the Merrin Estate," Evelyn said, still grinning. "Big fancy congratulations thing. Over-the-top as always. And I want you and Lucy to come."

Lucian blinked.

"You're inviting me to a high-society event? Like, willingly?"

She gave a mock gasp. "What? You think I'd go without you? I need someone there who actually understands sarcasm. And who won't try to flirt with every noble heir in sight."

He opened his mouth.

"Also, I already told Grandma you were coming."

He blinked again.

"…Of course you did."

Evelyn leaned forward slightly, eyes locking with his.

"Don't ditch, okay? It's important to me."

Lucian stared at her for a second.

Then nodded.

"Alright."

"Good," she said, stepping back with a satisfied nod. "I'll send a carriage to your dorm just in case you get lazy and pretend to oversleep."

"I don't oversleep."

"Mmhmm. Sure."

She spun on her heel and started walking toward the Academy building with a bounce in her step, waving one hand over her shoulder.

Lucian watched her for a second.

The two envelopes still rested in his hand. Warm from the sun. Neatly sealed.

He looked at the gate again.

Then sighed.

"…And we're really doing this."

He stuffed the envelopes into his coat pocket and followed after her, his footsteps slow—but steady.

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