Embers of the Past
From broken rooftops and fallen beams, smoke rose in thin trails through the wreckage of the town.
Out there past the heat haze, Selena saw Harry Taylor fade into nothing. Her ribs loosened after holding tight too long, then sound rushed up - bright, ringing, like chis caught mid-tumble through open air.
"Teacher, you’re too evil," she teased, eyes bright. "How can you scare him like this?"
Leon shot her a sideways look, the corner of his lips twitching. "Damn girl, what are you saying? I was just helping you vent your anger. Why are you speaking up for him?"
"Yes, yes. Teacher is the best! I knew you wouldn’t let anyone bully ."
Into the space between them she moved, fingers closing tight on his arm. Leaning in, her voice took on that whiny edge - soft, needy, like a child who always gets what it wants.
Leon stiffened.
Hers was a heat slow-dripping under skin, crossing into him through cloth too fine to hold it back. Quiet breaths carried scents that lingered low in the air. Every pulse near his side said she lived, real and close.
That white robe hung loose on her thin body, a light blue band circling just above the small dip of her waist, then flowing straight down past her hips and legs. Leaning closer, her chest gently touched his arm - soft, quiet, impossible to ignore.
His pulse skipped.
Calm down.
Stillness held his face, gaze fixed ahead, like the mont carried no weight at all.
Her eyes caught the slight tightness in his back muscles. Heat rose into Selena’s fair skin, yet her arms stayed locked. Without pause, she pulled him closer - like nothing else made sense.
Done giving my life to him - so why even ask? What weight does that hold now?
A shadow crossed her face as she looked down, just missing the spark that lit within. Her glance dropped, the faintest glimr slipping beneath half-closed lids. Quiet folded around her features when her stare turned earthward, a brief flash retreating behind stillness.
Truth was, it hit her then - every single thing he’d done, ant for her.
When she saw Harry’s background, she had swallowed her anger, unwilling to cause trouble for her Teacher. She would rather endure humiliation than bring danger to him.
But she had underestimated him.
Her Teacher... protected his student fiercely.
"Good to know," Leon said at last, regaining his composure. He gently withdrew his arm before he indulged too much in warmth that would blur judgnt. "Alright. Let’s go. Didn’t you want to go ho and take a look? Lead the way. We won’t know when the next ti will be."
Selena nodded obediently. "Okay, let’s go."
She walked ahead.
Leon followed her graceful figure deeper into the broken town.
Ash drifted like snow beneath their feet. The wind carried the faint scent of charred wood and sothing heavier — loss.
Soon, they stopped before a collapsed courtyard.
Blackened walls stood half-broken, one section still bearing faded ink drawings. Childish strokes — uneven, crooked, innocent.
Selena froze.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
She stepped forward and touched the pitch-black wall. Beneath layers of soot, the ink patterns remained — clumsy flowers, crooked birds.
Her masterpiece from childhood.
Her throat tightened.
Leon didn’t speak.
He simply stood nearby, eyes scanning the surroundings. The silence between them felt heavy but respectful.
Then—
A ripple of aura brushed against his senses.
He turned slightly.
Several figures descended from the sky behind them.
"Hmm?"
It was Maya.
Behind her were Sana and several female students from the Holy Water Division.
Their robes fluttered lightly as they landed among the ruins, blue silk catching the pale sunlight like flowing water.
"Sana, is this your ho?" Amaya asked softly, her tone filled with concern as she looked around the destruction.
Sana’s eyes were red.
She knelt among the broken beams, hands trembling as she sifted through debris. "Yes... this was it..." Her voice cracked. She searched desperately, as if hoping sothing — anything — had survived.
"Eh..."
Maya noticed Leon not far away and approached with asured steps, her long blue hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. The sky-blue layered silk of her robes embraced her elegant posture before flowing loosely to her ankles, every movent poised yet natural.
"Junior Brother Leon," she said, slightly surprised. "Why are you here as well?"
Her gaze shifted to Selena.
Understanding dawned imdiately.
Amaya followed behind Maya, stealing curious glances at Leon.
So this is the Master of the Athyst Summit Division... the youngest Guardian Elder of Celestis Academy?
He was even more handso than the rumors said.
Leon stood tall in midnight robes embroidered with thin athyst patterns, long black hair resting over his shoulders. His purple eyes held calm depth, like still water that concealed storms beneath.
He glanced at them indifferently. "I brought my student down the mountain to train. We’re also visiting her ho."
"Student Amaya greets Guardian Elder Leon," Amaya stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
Leon’s gaze landed on her.
For a brief second, he was genuinely startled.
Are all the Holy Water Division students this striking?
Amaya’s blue robe was tailored cleanly to her slender figure, tied at the waist with a pale sash that emphasized her narrow waist before falling into soft folds around her hips. Her posture was upright yet gentle, long black hair framing a refined face with calm, dark eyes.
There was grace in her movents — quiet, almost scholarly — yet beneath that restraint lingered youthful vitality.
Behind her, Maya stood like a spirit of flowing rivers. Her narrow waist and long legs gave her presence natural authority, her gaze confident and observant. Even amid ruins, she carried herself like soone walking between heaven and earth.
And Sana...
Simple white robes trimd in black thread wrapped her modestly, fitted lightly at the waist. Her long black hair was tied behind her shoulders, and her bright eyes — though wet with tears — retained stubborn strength. There was sincerity in her face, sothing raw and real.
For a fleeting mont, Leon felt the absurdity of it all.
A ruined town.
Ash in the wind.
And yet—
So many brilliant figures stood among the wreckage.
He suppressed the faint stir in his chest.
Strength first. Discipline first.
Beauty was fleeting. Power endured.
Selena, however, noticed the brief flicker in his eyes.
Her fingers curled slightly.
She stepped subtly closer to him, as if claiming her position without words.
The wind passed through the broken walls.
The past lay in ashes.
And the present — complicated, emotional, alive — stood quietly among the ruins.
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