Date: Nearing Winter's Edge
Location: Academy Dorms – Common Lounge, Training Hall, Private Quarters
---
Today, a letter came from my parents.
They'd heard about what happened. My injuries. The battle. The kidnapping.
My father's words were brief, but thunderous:
> "I will find those responsible. And I will burn every mirror they crawl out of."
He never sounded like that before. There was weight behind his words — not just anger, but power.
As if he's capable of doing exactly what he says.
Strange. I've never known him to raise a weapon.
---
Later, something… unexpected.
During sword drills, Mireille stopped mid-spar and narrowed her eyes.
> "You move like someone trained. Not recently. Long ago."
I told her my mother taught me some stances when I was little.
That was all I thought it was — memory and muscle.
Then I mentioned my mother's name.
In the Academy, we're not supposed to use family names. Titles and bloodlines are stripped from introductions.
But I said it anyway.
Mireille froze.
Then blinked.
Then laughed.
> "By the stars. You're her son?"
She went on — stories spilling like old wine.
About a young gold-ranked adventurer who once dual-wielded blades with frightening grace.
A girl who moved like a ghost and struck like thunder.
My mother.
The hall fell silent.
Even the nobles stopped mid-swing to listen.
And then Leander, as always, broke the tension.
> "Still can't believe your mother kicked Mireille into a swamp. Three times. In one duel."
That got everyone laughing.
Funny. My parents never spoke much about their past.
But now, all the little hints — the stances, the warnings, the quiet confidence — they make sense.
I thought she was a knight. Turns out… she was a legend.
---
Evening brought a different kind of chaos.
I was heading toward the library — as usual — when Leander pulled me aside.
Alice stood near him. Breathing heavily. Her eyes blood-red, glowing faintly.
Leander looked nervous.
> "She's… been acting strange. I think she needs—"
> "—Blood," Alice finished, sharp and unashamed.
I blinked. She stared at me like prey.
Half-vampires. I remembered now — during winter, they need blood at least once a week to stabilize.
Others had offered, apparently. But she refused them. Only asked for mine.
No idea why.
Maybe it's my mana signature. Maybe something else.
I agreed.
---
We went to my room.
She didn't ask twice.
Wrapped her arms around me from behind — gentle, cold — and then pushed me down onto the bed.
I warned her to be careful.
She didn't listen.
The bite wasn't painful. Not at first.
But halfway through, my body felt numb. Like sleep, pulling me under. I heard my heartbeat slow.
Then… she stopped.
Her breath was steadier now. Her eyes clear. Satisfied.
She whispered something, but I was already drifting off.
---
I woke up later — still alive, somehow.
She was sitting beside me, her legs crossed, eyes closed like she'd just finished praying.
> "Thank you."
I nodded. "You're welcome. But… next time, maybe not so rough."
She smiled. Faint. Almost tender.
> "Then don't taste like that."
Before I could reply, she was gone — off to morning routine like nothing had happened.
---
So.
My mother's a former gold-ranked dual-blade legend.
My blood is apparently addicting to vampires.
And my teammates are closer than ever.
Winter is here.
And beneath the cold…
something else is stirring.