A Journey Unwanted

In the fleeting moment of waning dusk,

A young lad awaits in verdant stillness,

Beneath nature's gentle ebon canopy,

Clad in whispers of a soft zephyr's caress.

His hazel eyes, alight with curiosity,

Fixate on the ethereal scene taking shape,

A stirring revelation before his very gaze,

Where shadows dance and secrets awake,.

There, beneath the love-kissed moon's tender might,

Stands she, the muse of an enigmatic tale,

Bound by a captivating, fair facade,

A celestial portrait of allure does not fail.

Her cascading tresses, spun of lustrous gleam,

Draped in milky strands of delicate white,

Like moonbeams delicately cast upon earth,

Emanate purity, adorned in lunar light.

Her crimson orbs, portals to an unknown world,

Reflect on the depths of some forbidden realm,

Enchanting, swirling, unfathomable mysteries,

Arousing the boy's curiosity overwhelms him.

A porcelain visage, kissed by moonlit dew,

Adorned with a pallor as pale as untouched snow,

The delicate canvas of a celestial deity,

Whose profound essence he yearns to know.

Silent footfalls, an ethereal dance upon petals ,

Through moonbathed gardens, she gracefully glides.

The air trembles with a secret melody,

Tears of stardust gather in the boy's eyes.

Her every movement, a fluid waltz with grace,

Her gestures an enchantment born of dreams,

Her touch, an ethereal whisper in the wind,

Invoking a tempest of thoughts unforeseen.

Beneath a sky adorned with celestial constellations,

The boy remains transfixed, a mere mortal soul.

Entranced by this otherworldly apparition,

Transcending boundaries, traversing dimensions untold.

How does one encapsulate such resplendent beauty?

A flame of artistry within the boy's chest does rise,

Without words to grasp the essence of her being,

He is lost, entrapped in emotion's labyrinthine guise.

For she, the girl with white hair, red eyes, and pale skin,

Is an enigma that defies tangible description,

A tapestry spun from the silk of celestial secrets,

Breathing life into the boy's fervent transcription.

Thus, as the moon's tender glow begins to wane,

And the morning's golden veil delicately unfurls,

The boy clings to the memory, a phantom embraced.

Of the girl whose beauty transcended earthly bounds.

--------------------

"A poem?" Mikoto questioned as he stared at the note in his hands. Although he would have liked to comment about how corny it was, he was currently more focused on the section describing someone with white hair, red eyes, and pale skin. It was the first day back in the academy, and things were just progressing slowly and blandly.

He entered his homeroom and approached his desk, where he had found a poem. It was concerning, seeing as it described his appearance in great detail. Fiona knew he was a spawn of Octavia, but she was not the type to write poems like this. And the poem mentioned a boy witnessing this white-haired individual. But maybe he should not take that literary.

Victoria was, of course, another candidate, but he was pretty sure she was not in the academy today. Seeing as her mother was in full health, she was spending every waking moment with her. Had someone figured out his secret?

There were not many instances where he was without the mask. Then again, this might have ended up on his desk by mistake. Maybe it was really meant for Lucinda.

("It seems a bit far-fetched, but maybe I should take it to her; the writing style might seem familiar to her.")

"Is aught amiss?" He blinked in surprise beneath his mask as he turned to Agatha. She must have taken note on how long he was staring at the note.

"Eh, just a love letter." He mused as he took a seat at his desk. "It's hard being this handsome."

"I see." She did not seem to believe that part, for whatever reason.

"So what have you been up to for the past few days?" He asked as she quirked up an eyebrow at the sudden question.

"Why are you asking?" She questioned him, but she did not really seem to mind his asking.

"Why not?" He countered. She looked as though she wanted to roll her eyes, but she refrained.

"If you must know, I have been busying myself with training." She answered.

"Cause you got beaten by that Chaosmaw?" Her eyes twitched at his casual bluntness as she begrudgingly answered.

"Yes. My father bid me to never suffer such humiliation again." To her confusion, Mikoto just scoffed.

"Your old man is such an ass hat." Funny enough, she did not seem tempted to refute his claim.

"Heh, I suppose you are right." She mused. It seems she shared her distaste for her father with William.

"Course I am." Mikoto stated with a hidden smirk, he opened his mouth to speak but quickly stopped himself when someone entered the classroom with heavy steps. The classroom was immediately silenced, and Mikoto thought Professor Gregory was already here.

"Alright, listen up, maggots!" The booming voice of Professor Fergus traveled through the classroom. Not even murmuring remained, but it was clear that everyone was confused as to why Professor Gregory was not here, and instead it was Professor Fergus. "I hope you brats haven't been getting lazy because there's work to do!" He announced only further confusing everyone.

Though confusion was soon turned into shock when the entire classroom was lit up by a large glyph suddenly forming in the room, In the next instance, everyone's rear suddenly planted on grassy ground as their view of the large classroom was replaced with a lush forest.

Mikoto, who was fortunate enough to land on his feet after the sudden teleportation, frowned beneath his mask. Professor Fergus did not strike him as the type of person who was capable of mass teleportation without even a chant. But for now, he threw that fact at the back of his mind. He wanted to focus on the poem from earlier, but it seems that would have to wait.

But now it was time for him to take note of the forest. The one closest to the academy was destroyed by him. But the mana that engulfed this area was reminiscent of that very same forest. Magic particles were easy to detect as they were everywhere, and some things had a distinct signature.

"This forest, it's..." He murmured lowly as Professor Fergus spoke up once more.

"That's right, brat, the forest has been repaired." The old man stated much of everyone's confusion.

"Repaired?"

"What is he talking about?"

"It was completely eradicated, though."

"Yeah, there is no just 'repairing' it. That is just absurd."

Everyone let their confusion be known, but Professor Fergus did not seem the least bit keen on explaining to the class how the forest that was eradicated was suddenly whole once more. He also did not seem keen on explaining why he was here instead of their class teacher, Professor Gregory.

"Work of other Gregory's." He suddenly heard Agatha to his side inform.

"Seriously? Gregory's are powerful enough to just repair an entire destroyed forest?" Mikoto questioned as Agatha shook her head.

"No, but there was likely more than one. It no doubt was thanks to combined effort." She clarified. "Our family line strives in creation."

"I see, that makes sense." Mikoto murmured thoughtfully.

"Quiet down now, ye brats; it's time for today's lesson!" Professor Fergus announced. "Today is more combat training."

"Hmm, combat training on our first day back?" One student questioned.

"Is that not a bit absurd?" Another questioned.

"You would think professors would be more lenient."

"I won't go and bore you on why it's combat training on your first day back, as I am sure some of you already realized." Professor Fergus started.

("I'm guessing it has to do with the demon invasion. It seems they want their learners to be better prepared in the near future.")

"Maybe for the festival..." He heard Agatha murmur, much to his confusion.

"Festival?" Mikoto questioned, causing Agatha to turn to him.

"Right, you hail from the East. So you are not privy to customs here in the West." She said it thoughtfully. "A festival is to be held in honor of the goddess Octavia. Though it is much too early to train for it," She informed.

"Octavia? Why her?" It was the first time he had heard of this supposed festival. And it was odd that Octavia was the center piece.

"She is a goddess of war and navigation, aspects that are ingrained in our world. Many seek to honor her; hence, this festival was created. Usually kingdoms in the West participate in the festival, seeing as the goddess Octavia is one of the diverse gods." She explained.

"Whole kingdoms? I thought Octavia was a goddess only worshipped in Galadriel." Though he never really looked much into anything truly religious,.

"Nay, many gods are worshipped over the world." She clarified as he hummed in interest. He wanted to ask more about the festival, but Professor Fergus spoke up once more.

"Now, what you lot will be doing for this test is simple, so I won't be repeating myself. So make sure you brats listen." Professor Fergus started. "It'll be a good ol' fashioned last man standing match. Though you'll be going in teams of two, you brats get to choose your partners. Now be quick about it!" After that small information dropped, murmuring within the classroom population immediately broke out. Some were confused, while others were more focused on already establishing their small teams.

Mikoto's eyes scanned over the faces of his class, and they came to a stop at the two familiar faces of William and Ruby. The former of which was giving him a sheepish look, Mikoto threw him a thumbs up. Just so he did not feel bad for leaving Mikoto out, The boy gave him a nod as he turned back to Agatha.

"So wanna team up?" He asked the girl as she sent him a questioning gaze.

"I am better off alone." She merely murmured.

"Uh-huh. You sure? I'm pretty strong." He stated.

"Stronger than most in this class?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Stronger than you." He boldly proclaimed.

"Is that so?" She trailed off with her eyes narrowing. "Care to put that to the test?" She challenged surprisingly enough.

"Oh, how bold, Agatha. Eh, maybe after this whole thing."

"Deal."

--------------------

The whole training exercise was rather simple. Like Professor Fergus said, it was a simple elimination game. Students were merely put against each other; of course, maiming was not aloud or killing. Currently, Mikoto was battling two of his fellow classmates. A girl and a boy, respectively.

The girl, who had long chestnut hair cascading down her back in waves, focused her gaze on Mikoto. Raising her right hand, delicate yet resolute, she extended her fingers, forming a precise position as if tracing an invisible symbol. Energy coalesced in front of her palm, gathering into a mesmerizing circular glyph that glowed with ethereal light. Its intricate patterns shimmered; from the glyph, Mikoto could easily tell it was a wind spell.

The girl began to chant, her voice echoing like a soft harmony carried on the whispering wind. The words she uttered were a typical incantation. The cadence of her voice rose and fell, weaving an enchanting melody that seemed to ripple through the air.

As the chant reached its climax, the girl thrust her hand forward, directing her will through the glyph. Suddenly, an exquisitely crafted wind blade materialized, its edge shimmering with a faint blue glow. With incredible speed, it hurtled towards Mikoto.

Mikoto watched the blade of wind race towards him; it might have seemed to come towards him with insane speed, but in his view, it was coming at a snail's pace. So he merely stepped to the side as the blade of wind whizzed past him, striking a tree.

Undeterred by the failed strike, the boy standing beside the girl seized his chance. A quizzical expression flashed across his face. He mimicked the girl's previous gesture. A glyph of fire formed in front of his palm, crackling with searing heat.

Without hesitation, the boy unleashed a spell of his own, summoning a fiery bolt of pure energy. The flames danced and flickered, trailing behind the burning projectile as it surged toward the lone figure. Yet, to their surprise, Mikoto raised his hand effortlessly, his movement almost disdainful, and with a swift swipe of his slender fingers, the fire bolt met an abrupt end, vanishing into thin air.

The girl and her companion exchanged a quick glance, a silent communication passing between them. They were, of course, absolutely perplexed; Mikoto had just swiped away a bolt of fire with no effort after all. Though Mikoto was not going to let the absurdity of the situation fully sink in,.

As the two readied themselves for the next move, their attention fixed on Mikoto, and a sudden distortion in the air caught their eyes. In the blink of an eye, Mikoto, fueled by an unseen force, vanished from his previous position as if swallowed by intangible shadows. Astonishment, tinged with apprehension, washed over the faces of the girl and the boy as they tried to comprehend the impossible speed at which he moved.

He reappeared in a blur, his lithe form now positioned between the girl and the boy. In this fleeting moment, time seemed to hang suspended.

Without wasting another precious instant, Mikoto propelled himself forward with lightning speed; his fist propelled like a guided missile towards the girl's abdomen. The sheer force behind his strike reverberated through the air, the sound of impact mingling with the gasp that escaped the girl's lips. The sickening thud resonated as her body crumpled under the devastating blow, her breath stolen from her chest in a rush.

Simultaneously, Mikoto's attention shifted seamlessly to his other target—the companion who stood frozen, eyes widening in disbelief. Before he had a chance to react, Mikoto lunged forward, his hand arcing through the air with surgical precision. A swift, merciless chop found its mark on the vulnerable juncture of the boy's neck, an onslaught of pain and disorientation spreading through his body like a vicious shockwave.

The force of the blow sent ripples of dizziness and blackness crashing into the boy's consciousness. His legs wobbled unsteadily, the strength leaving them like water draining from a broken vessel. In an instant, his vision blurred, his world swaying dangerously as his body, unable to withstand the cruel assault, sank to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"There, easy as pie." Mikoto commented as he turned away from the unconscious two. "Now where did Agatha run off to?"