Journal of the Silent Tactician
Date: Final Month of the Spring
Location: Academy Grounds – Observation Tower, Dormitory Courtyard
---
The sky was cloudless tonight.
Winter winds brushed the dorm walls, and the stars shimmered so bright I could see them through the glass of the tower.
It's been nearly a year.
They say we'll move into second-year status soon — mission-ready, allowed to take official quests.
But for once, no one talks about exams, monsters, or traitors.
Just snow, food, and the festival fireworks.
And my hair.
---
Leander said I look like a walking frost spirit.
Anna said I aged fifty years overnight.
Gideon only nodded once and muttered, "Better than bald."
Elric tried to dye it back with tea. (Failed.)
Even Riya stopped mid-training, blinked, and said, "...Did you evolve?"
I looked in the mirror yesterday.
They're not wrong. My hair's turned pale — almost white. Not silver. Not grey. White.
Like snow before footsteps.
I don't know if it's from the spirit crystal, the magic burn, or something else entirely. But I'm not changing it.
It feels… honest.
---
This week was calm.
Mornings, I sat by the training yard — watching them spar and stumble.
Riya's control over fire and ice is tighter now.
Gideon's stance is nearly flawless.
Anna's illusions are trickier — she tricked Alice into thinking she'd broken her fangs.
They laugh more now.
I laugh, too.
---
Tonight, Lily joined me by the observatory steps.
She brought two cups of warm duskberry tea. The kind that glows faintly if brewed right.
We talked about constellations — the old myths, the ones where lovers were turned into stars to meet each other across the sky.
She said the Moon always made her feel calm.
I said the Moon never looked lonely, because the stars always followed.
She stared at me.
Smiled.
> "You always say things like that without realizing, don't you?"
Maybe I do.
But I meant it.
---
Alice visited just after midnight.
She didn't knock.
She never does.
> "It's time again," she said, fingers cold from the snow outside.
She sat beside me without a word, brushed her silver hair back, and tilted my chin.
Her fangs pierced skin softly. A sting — then warmth.
But this time, it was different.
She drank longer than usual. Her breath got shallow. Her hands shook. When I tried to pull back, she refused.
> "I need this," she whispered. "Your blood… calms the storm. I don't know why."
> "Don't rely on it unless you must," I told her. "I'm not a well you can draw endlessly from."
She didn't answer.
Instead, she hugged me from behind, wrapped her arms around my waist like I might disappear.
And then she fell asleep. Just like that.
So I sat there, heart hammering, unable to move.
Eventually, I leaned back into her shoulder and fell asleep too.
I woke up at dawn.
She was still there, wrapped around me, breathing softly.
I'm never telling the others.
They'd never let me live it down.
---
This week… was embarrassing.
And beautiful.
Maybe that's what peace feels like when you've forgotten it exists.
Even if it's fleeting, I'll hold onto it.
For as long as I can.
---
> "Snow falls. Hair turns white.
But laughter still rises.
So I must still be alive."