Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris  Date: Year 873 / Pegasus Cycle (1) / Sage's Day (19)

The murmurs swelled like a wave, refusing to die down. Despite Leo's calm demeanor and Professor Aldulfin's repeated efforts to bring order, the news had stirred something deep within the class, something too turbulent to settle so easily.

Then, cutting clean through the noise, a sharp voice rang out.

"I see you're finally showing your true colors..." Perseus stood from his seat, eyes burning with intensity as he faced Leo and the professor. "Let's not pretend, shall we? This year's winner has already been chosen, hasn't it?"

A collective hush swept through the room.

With a pointed finger, Perseus directed everyone's gaze toward Hector.

"There's no need to drag this out, not when the academy clearly has its golden boy. Why bother with a trial when you've already decided who'll wield the sword? You're just afraid someone might outshine him if given enough time."

A few gasps followed. Some students shifted awkwardly in their seats, unsure where to look. Hector, seated calmly, didn't flinch.

Leo met Perseus's glare with a strange mix of calm and empathy. He didn't look offended. If anything, he seemed to understand, perhaps even relate. But before he could say anything, Professor Aldulfin stepped forward, voice firm yet not unkind.

"Perseus, I won't deny your frustrations," he said evenly. "And I won't deny that Hector is this year's favorite, many people believe in his potential. But the reason behind the change in schedule is tied to events far greater than this academy. You may not understand now, but one day, you will."

Perseus held the professor's gaze, jaw clenched as if biting back another argument. Then, after a tense pause, he let out a slow, bitter breath.

"...It's not worth it," he muttered under his breath.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. His voice, low and defiant, echoed one last time as he disappeared down the hallway.

"I'll prove them all wrong."

And with that, the door closed behind him, leaving the classroom in a thick, uneasy silence.

Leo turned uncertainly toward Professor Aldulfin, clearly unsure of how to respond. But the professor, already grasping the mood of the room, stepped forward to speak.

“I understand many of you are feeling uneasy,” he began, his voice calm and measured, “and perhaps believe that shortening the preparation period is unfair, that it limits your chance to stand out.”

A few students exchanged glances, some nodding in silent agreement.

“But as I've said before,” the professor continued, “the Hero's Trial is not meant to be a spectacle, nor a contest of popularity. Its true purpose is singular: to identify a knight worthy of wielding the divine sword Celestin. That is the council's only concern, finding the one chosen by the sword.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the room.

“The current situation in the empire demands that both Celestial Swords be ready for battle... as soon as possible.”

That last remark sent a ripple of unease through the classroom. The students whispered among themselves, uncertain of what the professor meant. Even Orin felt a chill run down his spine.

What situation? he wondered. Does it have anything to do with what Professor Velorum said about the Church of Luminia?

But Aldulfin offered no further explanation. With a short bow and a few parting words of thanks, he and Leo exited the room, leaving behind a sea of murmuring students, all speculating about what might be unfolding behind the scenes.

Orin remained in his seat, brows furrowed, his mind spinning with questions.

But before he could get too lost in thought, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Still overthinking everything?” Came Sirius's familiar voice.

Orin turned to his friend, and just seeing his ever-carefree expression helped ease the knot in his chest.

“I was just thinking about what the professor said at the end,” Orin murmured, trying not to sound as troubled as he actually felt. “It's like... something's happening in Solaris, but for some reason, no one wants to say it out loud.”

“I get what you mean,” Sirius replied, folding his hands behind his head. “But honestly, there's no point in getting worked up over something we don't know. If something is going on, I'm sure the professors will tell us... eventually.”

“You're right,” Orin said with a sigh, trying to push the thought aside. He already had more than enough on his mind. For instance... Hector.

As if summoned by the thought, Hector appeared at the far end of the room, walking toward them with purposeful strides. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by something else, an intense, almost unshakable determination in his eyes.

When he reached them, he stopped directly in front of Orin.

“There's something I need to confirm,” Hector said flatly. “Come with me. To the training grounds, outside the academy.”

Sirius, still nearby, raised an eyebrow in confusion. Orin gave him a reassuring nod.

Now's my chance, Orin thought. I might finally get the answers I've been looking for... about Huxley, about Andromeda... about everything.

Orin met Hector's gaze. “All right. Lead the way.”

The two boys left the lecture hall and began making their way through the academy's long corridors, heading toward the exit. Orin trailed slightly behind, his gaze fixed on Hector's back. The silence between them stretched, thick and uncertain, until Orin, acting on impulse, broke it.

“...Why was Professor Aldulfin so worried about what's happening in the Solaris Empire? Does he know something we don't?”

Hector slowed his pace and cast a glance over his shoulder before replying.

“There are rumors,” he said, his voice calm but low. “Whispers that the Minoris Empire has started mobilizing sorcerers again. Considering their past, back when they were still known as the Alchemical City, it's not surprising that people are uneasy. But that's not all...”

He came to a full stop and turned to face Orin, eyes narrowing slightly.

“There've also been reports coming from the Dhamarr Desert. They say the nomadic tribes, the ones they call the Star Children, are stirring. If they decide to march, the only viable route takes them through the West Gate... straight to Solaris Academy.”

Orin blinked. The Star Children? He'd heard of them, but never thought of them as a real threat.

Hector turned and continued walking, and after a pause, Orin silently followed.

This time, he didn't speak. He was too focused on sorting through everything: rumors of war, political unrest... and, more pressingly, the tangled web surrounding the princess and Hector's role in it. How do I even bring it up?

Deep in thought, Orin barely noticed the passage of time. Before he realized it, they had exited the academy grounds and arrived at the training fields, an open space lined with weapon racks and marked with faded battle lines. 

As soon as they stepped onto the training grounds, Hector walked straight toward one of the equipment shelves. Without saying a word, he picked up a training sword and shield, then turned toward Orin.

"Grab a sword and shield, Orin," he said flatly, offering no further explanation.

Orin hesitated for a moment, eyeing Hector warily. He had no idea what Hector was planning, but if this was the only way to get answers, then so be it.

He took a step forward, not toward the weapons, but toward the truth he'd been chasing for years.

"Hector..." Orin's voice was steady now, his resolve clear. "What exactly is your connection to Huxley?"

Hector, still adjusting his grip on the shield, froze for a split second. That clearly hadn't been the question he was expecting.

"I saw you two talking," Orin continued. "A few days ago. In one of the old rooms. You were talking about Andromeda... about the princess."

There was a long pause. Then Hector let out a quiet sigh, lowering his eyes as though weighing his next words.

"I should've known you'd follow me," he said calmly. "Yes, I met with Huxley. He was my instructor during my first year... but beyond that, I don't know him any more than you do."

"Is that really true?" Orin pressed, his voice tinged with frustration. "Because five years ago, when I begged you to help me find her... the Princess Andromeda, you said you didn't even know who she was. You said you didn't know her, or Huxley. But now, five years later, I find you speaking with Huxley about the princess... people you supposedly have no memory of."

Hector didn't flinch, but his gaze turned distant, as if he were searching his memory for a truth buried too deep to grasp.

"I know how it sounds," he replied slowly. "But I've never lied to you, Orin. Not once. I meant it when I said I don't remember a princess. I don't remember Huxley before he showed up as a professor. Whatever happened back then... whatever you think we shared... I have no memory of it."

"That’s impossible!" Orin's voice rose, unable to contain the storm building inside him. "You were there! With me and the princess... Andromeda! Huxley too. We were all together, day after day! How could you forget something like that?!"

His words echoed through the open air of the training grounds. Hector remained still, quietly absorbing Orin's outburst. Then, with a deep breath, he finally spoke.

"Five years ago..." he began, his tone measured and calm. "...you came to me out of the blue. You asked for help finding a lost princess named Andromeda. What made it strange wasn't just that you knew her, but that you insisted I did too. That we'd spent time together... with her and Huxley."

He paused, gazing down at the training sword in his hands.

"At first, I thought you were confused. I told myself maybe you were dreaming up pieces of a story... but the more details you gave: the palace gardens, the secret hideout, Huxley being a royal guard... it stopped feeling like imagination. And that scared me."

Orin clenched his fists. He didn't want to hear this. He couldn't accept it.

"I thought something had happened to you," Hector continued. "Hypnosis, trauma... delusion. So I refused to help. I thought ignoring the fantasy would bring you back to reality. But all it did was drive a wedge between us. I still remember how angry you were... how that moment shattered our friendship."

Orin's heart thudded painfully. His throat tightened. So Hector really... hadn't remembered anything?

"But I never stopped worrying about you," Hector admitted softly. "You were so committed. So convinced. Watching you throw yourself into a ghost chase... I couldn't just ignore it. I figured, if I could prove the princess never existed, you'd finally let it go. So I started my own investigation into the royal family."

His voice dropped lower now.

"And that search... led me to someone. Someone who gave me all the answers... on one condition."

Orin raised his head, eyes wide.

"What condition...?"

"That I wouldn't tell you anything until you were ready to hear the truth." Hector's expression hardened, resolute. 

He took a step forward and looked Orin directly in the eyes.

"So tell me now, Orin. Do you really want to know?" he asked, voice calm but heavy with weight. "Do you want to know what truly happened five years ago? The truth about you, me... and the princess called Andromeda?"