POV: Nitsuo
Date: 16 days After Narshia Trial
Location: Academy Dorms — Backyard Fire Pit
---
The fire crackled.
Not the fire of spells or explosions — just wood, warmth, and comfort.
Someone had brought drinks. No one asked who.
Elric said it was "for victory."
Leander said it was "for survival."
Anna said it was "because I deserve it."
I didn't say anything.
But I drank too.
---
Leander and Elric were first to fall.
Their laughter echoed through the dark, a strange duet of chaos.
> "Did you see that guy's face?!" Elric shouted, barely able to sit upright.
"Which one?! The one Anna hit with a book or the one who tripped over his own sword?!"
They fell into each other like they were back in the Academy's first weeks. No pain. No ghosts. Just joy.
---
Anna spun in circles, arms wide.
> "I could illusion the moon if I wanted to! I am magic itself!"
She nearly fell into the fire pit, but Leander caught her, laughing too hard to scold.
> "Moon Queen Anna, I bow to thee."
He bowed dramatically, then burped. Then laughed.
---
Riya had one sip. One.
And was immediately asleep in Lily's lap, murmuring nonsense about "sunflowers in the sky."
---
Gideon drank two cups.
Said nothing.
Got up.
Walked inside.
Never came back out.
Elric later whispered:
> "He's probably in bed sharpening his dignity."
---
Lily surprised us all.
Three sips in, her voice broke.
> "You— You can't just disappear for seven days and come back like it's fine!"
She grabbed me by the sleeve. Eyes glassy, cheeks red.
Then she cried.
Openly.
Ugly, beautiful crying.
> "I was scared. You were gone, and I didn't know if—if I—"
I wiped her cheek with my thumb.
> "I'm sorry."
She smiled through her tears, then leaned up and kissed me.
Not on the lips — not like that.
Just the cheek.
Warm.
Honest.
Then she passed out beside Riya, her head against my shoulder.
---
After everyone else passed out…
Only two remained by the fire.
Me and Alice.
She sat across from me, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as she watched Elric and Leander snore in chorus.
> "And these are the people we stake our lives on."
> "Worse. These are the people who trust me with theirs."
She chuckled. It was rare — a quiet, elegant sound.
Then she reached for one of the untouched bottles.
> "Still want to forget some of it?"
> "No. I want to remember how this feels."
We clinked glasses.
Drank.
And again.
And again.
Just two silent drinkers, beneath the moonlight, pretending the world had never burned.
---
A little while later, I slumped back against the wooden post of the porch.
Alice sat beside me, her cheeks faintly flushed.
> "You're drunk," I muttered.
> "Impossible. Vampiric resistance. I'm merely… relaxed."
> "Oh. Great. So I'm the only one spinning."
She tilted her head toward me.
Her crimson eyes narrowed. Then widened—hungry.
> "I am hungry, though."
I blinked.
> "We have stew inside—"
> "No. You know what I mean."
She didn't wait for permission.
She pounced.
> "Gah—! Alice, neck, seriously?!"
> "You taste better there."
> "You sound like a villain!"
> "I am half a vampire."
> "You could at least—oh Moon, warn me next time!"
She pulled away a moment later, wiping her lips like it was nothing.
> "You're dramatic when you're tipsy."
> "I've died 187 times, and that still freaks me out more than any death."
She smirked.
> "Don't tempt me. We've got a week left before training starts again."
> "Let me finish this drink before you start planning my funeral."
We both laughed — real, raw laughter.
And it felt so damn good.
---
That night, we didn't say goodbye to the past.
We didn't promise anything to the future.
We just existed. Two scars breathing in the same room. After that we get to my room.
She fell asleep first, curled at the edge of the bed like a cat with claws hidden.
I stared at the ceiling a long time.
Then—
> "Hey, Alice…" I whispered, unsure if she could hear.
> "You're the first person I've let bite me without trying to stab back."
A pause.
> "I'll cherish that," she mumbled into her pillow.
And with that...
I slept.
Really, truly slept.
---
> "There is no peace like the kind earned with fire, blood, and laughter." "And no better reminder of being alive than bad alcohol and worse friends."
— From the Journal of the Silent Tactician