By the time Elian returned home, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The evening breeze carried the scent of the village fires and something else — something warm, familiar.
As he stepped through the door, he paused.
Inside, everyone was gathered around the table, voices overlapping, laughter cutting through the remnants of silence. They looked tired, yes — bruised, scratched, drained — but for the first time in a long while, they looked at peace.
No one noticed Elian at first. He stood quietly, watching them talk, as if all the fear and chaos of the past days had simply melted away in the glow of the oil lamp.
He smiled.
Then walked in and took a seat beside them.
Dinner passed in a blur of shared stories and quiet smiles. Afterward, everyone went on with their usual chores. Elian didn't have any, so he followed Keon and helped carry firewood from the small shed behind the house. They worked in silence, the kind that felt comfortable — the kind that didn't need to be filled.
By the time they finished, night had fallen completely.
They all got ready for bed, gathering in their shared room. Blankets were unfolded, pillows adjusted. But before anyone could drift off, the soft murmur of conversation picked up again.
"I don't know what I would've done without you guys," Astelle said suddenly, her voice quiet but clear. "I'm just… really glad you're here. Thank you — all of you. And Linnea… thank you for risking everything to save me."
Elian and Keon exchanged a look — a silent one filled with agreement.
Tamir smiled. "We're a family, aren't we? That's what families do. We look out for each other."
The room fell into a warm kind of silence, and for a while, they just stayed like that — talking softly, drifting closer to sleep.
—
Morning came with the scent of fresh bread and the sound of birds outside.
At breakfast, they noticed the elder sitting at the table, holding five folded pieces of paper in his hand. His expression was unreadable.
"What's that?" Keon asked, glancing at the papers.
The elder gestured for everyone to sit down. They did, eyes drawn to the notes like magnets.
"Your actions," the elder began, "have spread beyond the borders of our village. I know everything now."
Tamir lowered his head. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner… I didn't want to make things worse."
"It doesn't matter," the elder said, his voice steady. "What matters is that you're safe."
Then, one by one, he handed them the letters.
They opened them in silence.
Then — shock.
All of them, except Elian, who didn't quite understand what he was looking at. The paper had words, sure, but they didn't mean anything to him yet.
Keon let out a sudden yell of joy. "No way!"
Astelle turned to Elian, eyes wide. "We've been invited… to the Academy. The most prestigious one in the region."
Elian blinked. "Is that… a good thing?"
"It's more than good," Linnea said, barely able to contain her excitement. "This kind of opportunity only comes once every two years."
"It's only an invitation," the elder added. "Whether you actually get in will depend on how you perform once you're there."
Everyone sat still for a moment, stunned. Then Tamir stood and gave a nod. "We should start packing right away."
—
The rest of the day was filled with movement.
Keon packed methodically. Astelle folded her clothes slowly, pausing every now and then. Linnea double-checked everything twice. Tamir offered quiet help where it was needed.
Elian… just stayed close. He had nothing to pack — no belongings worth taking. But somehow, just being there, moving from room to room with the others, made him feel like a part of it.
By the time night fell, their bags were ready. Their beds were laid out one last time.
They stayed up late again, talking — this time about the Academy.
Its towers. Its exams. The rumored magical classrooms and impossible teachers. The excitement was infectious, even for Elian. He listened quietly, eyes open in the dark, wondering what it would all look like — what kind of place could leave everyone so awestruck.
Eventually, they drifted off one by one.
And that night, Elian dreamed.
He stood in a vast field. Everything was covered in mist — endless, pale mist.
In the distance, a silhouette.
It stood still, watching.
Elian stepped forward.
The silhouette stepped back.
He tried again.
Again, it moved further away.
Then, it spoke — one word, echoing through the mist like a bell.
"Waiting."
And then it was gone.
Morning arrived slowly.
The village was still asleep, wrapped in the silence that lingers before dawn. A few birds chirped softly in the trees, and the sky glowed faintly with the promise of day.
"Elian, wake up. Today's important," Astelle whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.
He blinked. The room was dim, quiet. Around him, the others were beginning to stir. Linnea groaned sleepily, Keon sat up with a yawn, and Tamir rubbed his eyes.
Elian pulled himself up, still a little dazed. He washed his face and hands with the cool morning water, the chill snapping the last of the sleep from his mind.
By the time he joined the table, everyone else was already seated.
"Good morning," Elian said, voice low but clear.
"Morning," the others answered in unison, mouths full or mid-stretch.
Keon leaned forward, eyes bright. "Elly, just imagine—today we're going to the Academy!!"
Something in that word—Elly—caught Elian off guard.
"Elly?" he repeated, blinking. There was a strange pull in his chest, like a memory trying to surface. "Where'd that come from?"
Keon shrugged. "What? Don't like it?"
Elian hesitated, then smiled faintly. "No… it's fine. Just… felt familiar, somehow."
"Alright, alright, everyone sit properly," Astelle interrupted, grabbing a loaf of bread. "Eat up and then we move."
Linnea slumped forward. "There's still time… too early…"
"If we get there earlier, we register earlier," Astelle countered. "Which means we get better housing, probably."
That shut everyone up. They began eating more seriously now, passing bowls, sharing jokes in low voices, occasionally tossing glances out the window as the village began to stir.
After breakfast, they gathered their bags.
Elian had none, so he simply stood by and waited, hands in his pockets, watching the others do last-minute checks.
Then the carriages arrived.
Three of them — simple wooden wagons, each pulled by two sturdy horses. They could hold six people each, with space for some luggage in the back.
"Three?" Keon said, stepping out to the road. "That many?"
Apparently, they weren't the only ones.
From nearby houses and corners of the village, other teenagers began to emerge. Some were excited, others just looked confused or sleepy. In total, eighteen had received invitations.
Five of them — Elian, Astelle, Keon, Tamir, and Linnea — climbed into the first wagon together.
They waited for the last seat to fill before departure.
And then, she arrived.
The girl Elian had seen before — in the well.
She stepped into the carriage without a word, sitting across from Linnea and beside Astelle.
Elian stared.
So did Keon, though more out of curiosity.
"Hi, I'm Astelle," Astelle said with her usual bright tone. "What's your name?"
The girl looked up. "Rielle."
Astelle smiled. "That's a beautiful name. How old are you?"
"Sixteen," Rielle replied.
"We're all sixteen too," Keon said quickly. "I think." He looked at Elian with a grin.
They went around, introducing themselves. Riel listened quietly, occasionally nodding or offering short replies, but she didn't say much.
She mostly watched.
The wagon began to move. Hooves clacked against the dirt road. Trees passed by slowly at first, then faster.
They talked for a while — about what they thought the Academy might be like, what kinds of tests there'd be, whether they'd have uniforms or their own rooms.
Rielle stayed quiet, her eyes sometimes drifting toward the forest outside.
By evening, the group had calmed down.
The sun dipped behind the hills, casting the sky in soft orange and deepening shadows. The carriages pulled off to a rest point under a wide tree canopy.
Their guide — an older man in a green coat — stepped toward them as they prepared to lie down for the night.
"Rest well tonight," he said. "Tomorrow will be a very long day."
They nodded, some already half-asleep. Elian leaned back, watching the dark sky above the trees, and tried to ignore the strange pull in his chest every time the name Elly passed through his thoughts.