Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Hunter's Day (7)

  Orin slowly opened his eyes.

  Before him stretched a familiar expanse of wooded terrain, the old training grounds of his former military academy. Gentle wind rustled the trees, and in the distance, voices echoed across the clearing. Down below, a group of boys were engaged in what appeared to be a training exercise.

  He squinted, leaning forward slightly. Among them, he spotted a figure with messy white hair.

  That's... me.

  The realization struck him with quiet clarity. He remembered this day. It was one of his very first team exercises. Everything about the memory was vivid: the clumsy footwork, the frantic calls between teammates, the anxious flutter in his chest as he tried to prove himself.

  As he watched his younger self stumble through the drill, a familiar presence approached. Wind stepped into view without a sound and sat beside him on the grassy hill, her gaze distant, calm.

  "This is a dream, isn't it?" Orin asked, already knowing the answer.

  Wind nodded gently. "Yes. Because you ignored my warning... and were captured. This is the only way I can help you now."

  Orin sat up straighter, his expression tightening with urgency. "Then help me. Please, you can help my friends too. They're—"

  "You misunderstand," Wind said, cutting him off softly but firmly. "I'm only a spirit. I can't influence the real world... not directly. But I can guide your growth. That's why I brought you here."

  He motioned toward the scene unfolding below.

  "I want you to watch carefully."

  Orin turned his gaze back to the training field. His younger self was fumbling through the motions: slow on the uptake, overly cautious, often off-balance. But he wasn't the only one. The rest of the group, his old classmates, were also clumsy, inexperienced. They shouted too loudly, rushed their movements, made mistakes at every turn.

  Compared to Solaris Academy, they were like a different species entirely.

  “So this was your old academy... before Solaris?” Wind asked, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding below.

  Orin nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. This was during my first year. Back then, as the son of a League of Knights captain, I had the chance to enter Solaris Academy right away... but I failed the entrance exam for the knight course.”

  Wind turned to him with mild curiosity. “And the warrior course?”

  “Of course I could've joined that one,” Orin replied, chuckling dryly. “But I had my reasons for wanting to become a knight. So I turned it down. Still, Solaris gave me a second chance. If I finished top of my class here during my first year, they'd let me transfer into the knight course.”

  “I see...” Wind rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You mentioned before that you had a reason for entering the academy... and now, a reason for becoming a knight. What is it?”

  Orin's expression darkened just a little. He looked away. “I'm searching for someone.”

  “Someone...”Wind's brow furrowed. “You mean your younger sister?”

  Orin blinked, then let out a small laugh. “Younger sister? No, nothing like that. I'm an only child. The person I'm looking for... is a childhood friend.”

  Wind's expression shifted, uncertainty flickered in his gaze, as if something didn't quite add up. He fell silent, as though trying to reconcile this new piece of information with something he believed to be true.

  Orin noticed the silence and tried to shift the mood. “Still... I don't get why we're watching this specific memory. It's not like anything special happened that day. Just another training exercise.”

  “You'll understand soon enough,” Wind replied, his voice low, almost distant. “Watch closely.”

  Orin turned his gaze back to the training below, trying to understand what Wind was trying to show him. The exercise didn't seem out of the ordinary, just one of many drills from his first year. He remembered it well: a team of six students was tasked with capturing an instructor in the forest using formation tactics. The objective was simple, touch the instructor's shoulder. If even one of them succeeded, the exercise was considered a win.

  But as Orin recalled, they'd failed. No one had touched the instructor. So what exactly was Wind asking him to notice?

  Just as the thought crossed his mind, Wind spoke.

  “Now. Watch carefully. It's about to happen.”

  Orin focused. Below, the group had finally spotted the instructor and scattered in all directions, trying to encircle him. Then, there it was. His younger self, the boy with white hair, moved differently. Instead of pursuing from the ground like the others, he quietly climbed a tree and waited.

  The instructor, unaware, passed right beneath him.

  Then the younger Orin dropped down like a shadow, aiming to strike. The instructor barely dodged in time, stepping aside at the last moment. Orin landed on his feet and spun, making a second attempt. His fingers came within inches of the instructor's shoulder... but missed.

  The whistle blew.

  The instructor called the exercise to an end and gathered the students. Though no one had succeeded, he singled out Orin.

  “That last move,” the instructor said. “A bit unorthodox, but clever. It was the closest any of you got today.”

  Orin, watching the memory from the hilltop, heard the voices of the other students murmuring behind his younger self.

  “What kind of move was that?”

  “Doesn't look like a knight to me.”

  “More like a hunter. You know, ambushing magical beasts.”

  Orin winced faintly.

  He turned to Wind. “Now I remember... After that drill, some of the other boys started calling me Hunter. It wasn't until I placed first among the first-years that they finally began treating me like a real aspiring knight.”

  Wind's eyes narrowed slightly. “Hunter, huh... I see.”

  He paused a moment, then said quietly, “As a citizen of Solaris and the son of a League captain, it makes sense that you'd hold knighthood in such high regard. But... don't you think you, like many in Solaris, look down on other forms of combat? Like the art of hunting?”

  “Look down on them?” Orin echoed, puzzled. “It's not like that. I just... I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? A knight is trained in refined combat arts, an expert in defense and tactics. No foot soldier or hunter could really compare.”

  Wind gave him a small, knowing smile. “Is that what you believe?”

  Orin frowned. “Isn't it true?”

  “You saw it yourself,” Wind replied calmly. “Back then, you were barely fourteen... and yet you almost ambushed a professional instructor. That wasn't the strength of a knight. That was the instinct of a hunter. In the right terrain, with the right timing, a hunter becomes a force even an expert knight would struggle to deal with.”

  Orin fell silent, eyes drifting back to the forest below. He remembered the nickname, the whispers, the disdain, and the pride he'd felt when he proved himself worthy of the title of knight.

  “Are you trying to say I'm not cut out to be a knight?” Orin asked, his voice low and bitter.

  Wind didn't answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the forest below, now beginning to fade into shimmering fragments of dream.

  “I'm saying that with your natural instincts, your potential lies along a different path. One that might lead you to a strength greater than what knighthood alone could offer,” he said at last, turning to face Orin. “But in the end, the choice is yours to make.”

  He paused, then added with quiet gravity, “That said... don't forget your current situation. You've been captured. Your life and your friends’ lives hang in the balance. So let me ask you, if you had the chance to escape, to save everyone, but the only way to do it was by using a style other than that of a knight... would you take it?”

  Orin lowered his gaze.

  What Wind was saying wasn't new. Hector had told him something similar, more than once. But Orin had always rejected it, not because it didn't make sense, but because it did. And that frightened him.

  He clenched his fists. Pride weighed heavy on his heart, heavier than chains.

  “...I would free myself and my friends,” he said at last, the words slow and stubborn, “using a knight's combat style.”

  Wind closed his eyes and let out a long, quiet sigh.

  “I see.”

  He stood, brushing the dust from his clothe with graceful ease.

  “Then I should go. You're about to wake up.”

  He turned to leave, but hesitated, then looked back with a faint smile, one that carried a touch of melancholy.

  “Let me tell you one last thing,” he said softly. “When I was alive, I earned my name on countless battlefields. I mastered the art of summoning as a student at Solaris Academy. And not once... was I ever bested by anyone from the knight class.”

  Orin blinked. Wind's words lingered in the air like the final notes of a fading melody.

  “I only hope,” Wind continued, “that when the time comes... you'll choose the path that leads you forward, not the one that holds you back.”

  Then, with a flicker of light, Wind vanished.

  The forest faded with him. Darkness rushed in, swallowing the dream world whole.

  And then—

  Bang.

  A sharp, metallic noise echoed in his skull.

  Orin's eyes flew open.

  A sharp pulse of pain throbbed in Orin's skull as his consciousness returned. His eyes fluttered open, the dim surroundings slowly coming into focus. He found himself in a small, shadow-drenched room, his arms restrained by two knights gripping him tightly on either side.

  Standing before him was Professor Schedar, pacing methodically across the floor like a caged beast. The rhythmic echo of his boots only made the pounding in Orin's head worse.

  When his eyes finally locked onto the professor, anger surged up like a flame.

  “Professor... what in the stars are you doing with your students?” Orin spat, barely containing his fury. “Why are you cooperating with the Church of Luminia?!”

  Schedar paused his steps for just a moment, long enough for Orin to catch a glimpse of something dark and bitter swirling in his expression.

  “I'll be the one asking questions,” Schedar said coldly. “But since you seem so curious... I've long been a faithful collaborator of the Church.”

  “Why...?” Orin muttered, the word slipping from his lips more in disillusionment than inquiry.

  “I believe I made my stance clear long ago. I've never had much fondness for sorcerers.” His tone twisted with venom. “Or rather, I detest them.”

  He resumed pacing, his voice low and tight with restrained fury.

  “But I'll admit... you were different. I had nothing personal against you. In fact, I admired your father's work in the League. When you arrived at the academy, I saw someone strange, unrefined, but... intriguing. I wondered what sort of knight you'd become.”

  Though Schedar's words were directed at Orin, he never once met his gaze. His monologue drifted more like a confession to the room itself, as if Orin were just a shadow listening in.

  “I didn't even care that you bore those cursed eyes... the same blood-red glare as Dorman, the dark sorcerer.” His lip curled. “But what I cannot—will not—tolerate is deceit. Lies. Especially not from one of them... from that blasphemous tribe who dare reject Lady Bhizenti's teachings.”

  His eyes narrowed, cold and sharp.

  “Those damned Star Children.”

  Orin blinked, stunned. The words hit him like a language he didn't understand. The pieces didn't fit, yet a part of him trembled, sensing the weight behind them.

  Before he could speak, Schedar stopped pacing. He turned slowly to face him, his eyes now filled with barely restrained rage.

  “I should have known from the beginning,” the professor said with a sneer, stepping forward. “You share nothing of Captain Alpheratz's noble blood. You lack his strength, his discipline. I should've seen it for myself, but... I was blind.”

  He stopped just a step away from Orin.

  “Until the Oracle opened my eyes,” he hissed. “He showed me the truth. That not only are you not the son of Captain Alpheratz... but that your true blood runs with them, the damned Star Children.”