The whispers and murmurs fell silent, replaced by a charged anticipation as the Headmaster made her way onto the stage.

"Detention! For the two of you," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. Her gaze was like a laser, pinpointing both Lyra and Monday as she leveled her fingers at them.

Lyra blinked in surprise, her heart still pounding from the confrontation. Detention? She hadn't expected that. But before she could protest or even react, the Headmaster continued.

"Interfering with an arcane duel is strictly forbidden," the Headmaster said sternly, her violet eyes narrowing as they locked onto Lyra's. "And as for you, Monday—you know better than to let a duel escalate to that level. This is an academy, not a battlefield."

Monday shrugged, their earlier smugness replaced by a more subdued expression. "What did I do?," they said, attempting to deflect the blame. "Besides, I thought a bit of spectacle would liven things up."

The Headmaster's lips tightened, clearly unimpressed. "This is not a game, Monday. You're supposed to be setting an example, not indulging in power plays. Both of you will report to my office after classes. We will discuss the consequences of your actions in detail."

Lyra felt the weight of the Headmaster's words settling over her, but all she could do was nod. There was no point in arguing, not when she had so clearly broken the rules. She just hoped Rain would be okay, and that this incident wouldn't draw too much attention to the secrets she was so desperate to keep hidden.

"You're dismissed," the Headmaster said curtly, turning on her heel and striding away, leaving the arena in an uneasy silence.

Kloud approached Lyra, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. "Don't worry Lyra, let me talk to the Headmaster. I feel like it's my fault I didn't warn you about the rules here. You didn't know any better."

Lyra forced a small, rueful smile. "It's alright Kloud, I did something I wasn't suppose to do and I deserve whatever the Headmaster has in store for me." 

Rain, still trying to process everything that had happened, finally managed to find her voice. "Who... who are you?" she asked the mysterious elf, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear.

The elf turned to face her, a gentle smile softening her features. "My name is Lyra," she said simply, though Rain couldn't shake the feeling that there was so much more to her than that.

Rain swallowed hard, trying to gather her thoughts. "Why... why did you help me?"

Lyra's smile grew just a little bit sad. "Because no one deserves to face something like that alone," she replied, her voice carrying a quiet strength that belied her youthful appearance.

Rain didn't know what to say. She felt a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite place. But there was no time to dwell on it. The duel was over, and for now, all that mattered was that she was still standing, thanks to this mysterious new girl who had appeared out of nowhere.

"So your name is Lyra?" Monday asked, cutting into their conversation with a tone laced with haughty amusement. They flicked a perfectly curled bang out of their face, the strand bouncing back into place as they dramatically tossed it aside. Their walk was deliberate, each step accentuating the sway of their hips, as if every movement was part of a calculated performance.

Monday stood slightly taller than Lyra, which struck her as odd. Archangels were said to be towering figures, yet Monday was close to her height. Their frosty blue eyes bore into her, scrutinizing every detail as they eyed her up and down with a piercing gaze. 

"You know," Monday drawled, their voice dripping with mock curiosity, "the two of you look like you could be related." They pointed between Lyra and Rain, a mischievous smirk tugging at their lips.

Lyra felt the color drain from her face, her heart pounding in her chest.

Rain's eyes narrowed at Monday's comment, the tension in the air shifting as her initial shock turned into simmering anger. "Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?" she snapped, her voice edged with irritation. "Just because we have the same skin tone doesn't mean we're related. You think that's funny?"

Monday's smirk only widened, clearly enjoying the reaction they'd provoked. "Oh, don't be so sensitive, darling. I was just making an observation. But now that you mention it, maybe it is the skin tone, don't you think?"

Rain took a step closer, fists clenched at her sides. "Keep talking, and I'll give you something to observe up close."

Monday chuckled, unbothered by Rain's threat. "Temper, temper. You're already ruffled after our little duel, and now this? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to pick another fight."

Before Rain could retort, the sound of heavy boots on the arena floor caught everyone's attention. Urian made his way over to them. His expression softened as he reached Monday, who immediately dropped their sassy demeanor, their entire posture shifting.

"Urian, darling!" Monday cooed, their voice sweet and affectionate as they practically melted into his side. All traces of their earlier smugness vanished as they snuggled up to him, their arms wrapping around his waist.

Urian glanced at Monday, then at the tense scene in front of him. "Everything alright here?" His tone was calm but carried an underlying note of authority.

"Of course, my love," Monday purred, looking up at him with adoration. "Just a little misunderstanding, nothing to worry about."

Urian's gaze lingered on Rain and Lyra for a moment before nodding, satisfied. "Good. Let's go." He turned, leading Monday away from the arena. As they walked off, Monday's earlier sweetness faded as they shot a cold, warning glare at Lyra over their shoulder.

Rain, still fuming, stuck her tongue out at Monday, her frustration evident. Kloud chuckled, patting her on the back. "That's enough bantering with your bestie for today, yeah? Let's get you cleaned up before the old man shows up."

As their group crowded around Rain with compliments and questions about the fight, Kloud glanced over at Lyra. "Do you know where the Headmaster's office is? I can walk you there after our class," he offered, his eyes filled with concern.

Lyra smiled softly, trying to ease his worry. "Thank you, Kloud, but I've passed it a few times. I'll be alright."

Kloud returned her smile, though he still looked a bit uneasy. "Alright. But if you change your mind, I can have a word with the Headmaster. Detention didn't seem fair to me at all."

"You got detention?" Luka blurted out in disbelief, with Jae-Sun by his side. "Dude, what the hell? That attack from Monday was intense—I could feel it from where we were!"

"Oh, Lyra, I'm sorry to hear that," Jae-Sun chimed in, his tone genuinely concerned. "If you want, we can talk to the Headmaster or our dad. You shouldn't have gotten in trouble, especially if the Headmaster thought Monday's attack was over the line."

Lyra felt a swell of emotion at their kindness. She shook her head. "It's okay. I'd like to talk to her myself and apologize. And anyway, it's not like Monday didn’t get detention too." She winked and stuck out her tongue playfully.

_________

After class, Lyra walked out of the room alone. Kloud had been called to the Headmaster's office earlier, and though she didn't know why, she couldn't shake the image of how tense and serious he looked as he left. It made her wonder what he knew that she didn't, but it wasn't her place to pry. She had her own problems to deal with.

As she made her way to the Headmaster's office, her adrenaline began to spike, each step feeling heavier than the last. Anxiety churned in her stomach, twisting tighter with every passing second. Detention? Lyra had never even come close to getting in trouble before. What would it be like? Her mind raced with possibilities—would she be locked in a cell? Forced to endure some public humiliation? The fear gnawed at her, making her feel queasy. Maybe she should've listened to Kloud and Jae-Sun's advice.

No. Lyra straightened her spine, taking a deep breath. She would face this alone, with her head held high. But as soon as she entered the building where the Headmaster and higher staff's offices were, her resolve faltered. Her chest tightened as a powerful, almost suffocating aura enveloped her. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, and it radiated one overwhelming emotion: anger. The intensity of it made her feel light-headed, as if she might pass out at any moment. Who could be the source of this?

It was clear the staff felt it too. They kept their heads low, some even pressing napkins to their mouths as if they were on the verge of being sick. It was a miracle that Lyra's legs kept moving steadily—until she realized they weren't moving on their own. Someone was using magic on her. Just as quickly as the aura had appeared, it vanished, leaving her feeling an immense sense of relief. When she regained her bearings, she found herself standing outside the Headmaster's office. A gold plaque on the door caught her eye:

Headmaster  

Samara Bakyi

Before Lyra could fully register the Headmaster's name, the door swung open. The sight that greeted her was shocking.