The door creaked open.
A flicker of magic brushed the threshold—passive, unconscious. An instinct. How quaint.
And then he froze.
Eyes wide. Heart pounding so loud I could almost hear it across the room. I watched, veiled and still, legs crossed on the windowsill as the moonlight painted silver patterns on the stone floor. His reaction was... priceless.
He jumped. Quite literally.
Three steps back like a frightened kitten. Back pressed to the wall. Pale. Confused. Hilariously dramatic.
I smiled.
Ah. So he recognized .
Even veiled, my presence tends to inspire... reactions. Most try to bow. So faint. A few try to flirt—those are the fastest to regret it. But this boy? He looked like soone who had just opened the door to Death herself.
How cute.
"From your reaction, I assu you know ," I said, letting my voice glide across the room like silk drawn over smooth stone.
He stamred. "H-how could I not recognize the Mage Tower Lord? And you look so similar to Ms. Selena... so I thought... maybe..."
I leaned forward slightly, letting the moon catch the edge of my smile.
"Are you calling old, little one?"
That sent him into a panic spiral worthy of a theatre performance.
"HOW DARE I!" he squawked. "If you stood side by side, people would think you’re sisters!"
Fufufu~ I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The way his face burned, the way his words stumbled, the desperate backpedaling... adorable.
I stood then, stepping down from the windowsill with a fluid motion. Not a sound. Not even the rustle of cloth. His eyes followed every move—tense, wary, respectful.
"Let introduce myself properly," I said, drawing the air with just the right amount of gravitas. "Charlotte Weiss. Mage Tower Lord. It’s a pleasure to finally et you... Luca Valentina, holder of Ti and Space."
He cald himself with surprising speed, placing his hand on his chest and bowing in perfect noble decorum.
"Greetings, Your Grace. Luca Valentina. First-year, Class A, Arcadia Academy. How may I be of assistance, my lady?"
Manners. Grace. Poise. Interesting.
But underneath... sothing else. A tremble too subtle for the eyes, but not for . A stiffness in his shoulders. A split second of hesitation. He was trying too hard to act like this was normal.
Curious.
I tilted my head, amused. "Nothing much. I simply ca to look at you."
His blink was almost audible. "Pardon?"
"We mages are curious creatures," I told him. "And you, dear Luca, awakened to the elents beyond. Ti and Space are not just rare—they are... sacred. And very dangerous."
He nodded, uncertain. "I see."
I let silence linger before I added, with a smile just sharp enough to unsettle: "Although now that I’ve seen you, I’m wondering... should I kidnap you? Dissect you? Perhaps see how your magic responds to a bit of surgical curiosity?"
The blood drained from his face. His breathing hitched.
Delightful.
He didn’t scream, though. He didn’t run. He just... stood there, eyes wide, thoughts spiraling behind them. I could almost hear the chaos in his head.
And then, when I laughed—soft and lilting—he finally exhaled.
"Fufufu... you really are adorable," I said. "Relax. I have no such intentions."
Poor thing nearly collapsed in relief.
Then ca the real reason I was here.
"Tell ," I asked, letting the weight return to my voice. "What do you know about your elents—Ti and Space? Have you used them before? Experienced anything strange?"
He hesitated. I could feel the push and pull in him—doubt, caution, calculation.
Then he spoke.
His words ca slowly at first, cautious. Then faster. Fuller. Until it all poured out of him like a dam had burst.
Strange feelings in childhood. Visions he couldn’t explain. mories that weren’t his. An ancient spirit knight. A love for a son that wasn’t his own. A weapon ceremony and the desperate, primal scream to live.
It was beautiful.
Tragic.
And far, far too heavy for soone his age.
I crossed the room without a word and placed a hand gently against his head. His body flinched in surprise—but didn’t pull away.
Then I embraced him.
He stiffened. Then lted.
His breathing hitched. I felt the tremble in his chest.
So much pain, locked away.
So much weight, carried alone.
I patted his back, my voice soft. "It’s Ok. You’ve endured so much. And you had no one to tell. But you’re not alone anymore. It’s Alright."
He cried.
Quietly. But it was real. His voice cracked as he whispered: "Thank you... Thank you..."
This world hadn’t been kind to him.
But perhaps it could still offer him... purpose.
When I ca here, it was just curiosity towards the new elent—how does it work, its complications, etc.
But after seeing him I have made up my mind.
When the ti felt right, I stepped back and straightened. Let the mask of the Tower Lord return. Calm. Regal.
I looked him in the eye.
"Luca Valentina," I said. "What will you do with this power now? What are your intentions?"
He didn’t answer imdiately. His eyes lowered in thought.
Good, I thought. He’s not rushing to impress. He’s thinking.
But even as I waited, part of remained alert. He had experienced too much already. Visions of war. Ancient echoes. Near-death desperation. It wasn’t uncommon for such trauma to twist a person. And with elents like Ti and Space?
If his answer showed signs of obsession, arrogance, or delusion... if even a hint of corruption clung to his intentions—
I would end him.
Right here.
I would mourn the loss, yes. But I would not risk the world on the gamble of one broken child.
And then... he answered.
Softly. Earnestly.
"? I just want to live peacefully... and enjoy my life."
It was such a simple answer.
I had braced for twisted ambition. Perhaps he would declare his intent to change fate itself, to stand atop the world, to beco a hero, a god, a legend.
But instead... this?
A quiet wish.
Almost pitiful in how small it was.
No grandeur. No vengeance. No madness.
Just a boy who had suffered too much... and wanted to be left alone.
I looked at him for a mont longer. At the way he stood, still guarded but honest. Still hurting, but trying.
I had made my decision.
There were two reasons.
First—Ti and Space. These elents were too miraculous, too rare. I couldn’t ignore the chance to study them further, especially in soone who had awakened them naturally.
But the main reason?
The boy standing in front of .
He who held threads of destiny but wished for no throne.
He who had power... yet no lust for more.
I smiled—soft, sincere, and for once, without teasing.
"Would you like to be my disciple?"
When he answered her question about his wishes, ambitions, what Luca answered.
Luca ant it.
He didn’t say it as a clever deflection or an attempt to seem humble.
He said it as soone who had truly been stripped bare of all ambition—burned out, alone, and tossed into a world far bigger than he could ever prepare for. His desire was not to conquer, not to rise, but simply... to exist in peace.
He had no grand visions of glory. No delusions of being a chosen one. Just the aching hope for sothing quiet. Sothing safe.
Luca blinked.
Did she just...?
? A disciple of the Mage Tower Master?
For a second, he couldn’t speak. The words echoed in his head like so hallucination.
But then, sothing in him clicked.
Yes, he had power. Raw, terrifying power. But no direction. No map. And though he still didn’t fully understand Lady Weiss’s true intentions, he rembered that embrace. The warmth. The gentleness.
She wouldn’t hurt him.
And in this world, he needed soone. Not to protect him—but to guide him.
To survive, he needed this.
Luca dropped to one knee.
Hand over his chest.
Head bowed low.
"Please accept as your disciple, Master."
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