Chapter 146: From Sisterly Bonds to Shadows
Professor Dexter’s voice carried clearly across the hall, calm yet heavy with intent.
"Now now... Fran. Since you are now part of the Eldoria family, I want to ask you this... what makes you enroll in this academy?"
The words fell like a stone into a still pond. Dila’s long ears twitched at once, her eyes darting toward Fran in surprise. The room, however, was anything but still.
Murmurs erupted among the students, sharp and hissing like whispers carried by the wind.
"Huh... what?"
"Did he just... ask her that?"
"It’s just a peasant... why waste such a question on her?"
"That should only be asked to the high princess, not her! But the high Princess turn is over how come?"
Their voices dripped with disbelief, envy, and mockery. A few students even leaned to the side, staring at Fran with narrowed eyes, measuring her against Dila as though she were a fraud sitting in the wrong seat.
But Professor Dexter did not let the noise linger. He raised his staff and tapped it against the marble floor. Tok! The echo snapped through the room like thunder, silencing the growing storm of whispers.
"Now now... quiet down, princes and princesses," he said firmly, his gaze sweeping across the restless crowd. His eyes glinted with authority, enough to make even the boldest student stiffen in their seat.
The murmurs choked away into silence. Only the faint rustle of robes and the hush of breath filled the air.
Fran, sitting straight but small in her chair, felt the weight of countless eyes pressing on her. She lowered her head, her bangs brushing her cheeks as her ears twitched. Heat spread across her face, and her hands fidgeted against the hem of her uniform.
Professor Dexter’s voice softened, but it carried directly to her.
"Now then... what do you think, Fran?"
Her heart leapt into her throat. She wanted to speak, but her lips faltered, trembling against words that refused to come out. She pressed her knees together, her tail curling nervously around her chair leg.
Her fingers clutched her sleeve tighter, fidgeting, squeezing, as if she were holding back the pure joy swelling inside her chest. She felt like her whole body was glowing. To be asked such a question.... to be recognized....
The surrounding fell quiet again. No one dared to laugh or sneer openly now. All eyes locked on Fran, waiting to hear her answer.
But for that moment, Fran only sat there... shy, trembling, unable to contain her happiness.
Seconds ticked by like heartbeats. The air was still, heavy, as though the entire classroom was holding its breath. Dila’s eyes lingered on Fran, her chest rising and falling softly, anticipation glowing in her gaze.
Fran fidgeted one last time, her cat ears twitching before she lifted her chin. A small, trembling smile curved across her lips. Her voice was gentle at first, but it carried clear across the room.
"It’s because... I want to become stronger," she said, her words brushing the silence like a ripple on water. Her smile brightened, her eyes glimmering with warmth as she placed a hand against her chest. "And I want to protect my sister more. Because... it feels like she’s always the one protecting me. Now... it’s time for me to give my love back. I’ll train harder... so I can stand by her side and protect her too."
The room seemed to freeze for an instant, then softened all at once.
"Awwwwwwww!" the voices of the students rang out together, some clasping their hands, others leaning forward with wide smiles. Even the most skeptical students, the ones who had whispered mockery just moments ago, were now melting like butter in the sun. "What a nice girl..." someone sighed dreamily.
Dila’s heart throbbed. Her breath caught in her throat, her lips parting slightly as the truth of Fran’s words hit her. She had thought Fran only sought strength for herself... to grow, to prove herself. But no... it wasn’t pride, or ambition. It was pure, innocent love.
All this time... she really meant it, Dila thought, her chest softening with warmth. Not just to get stronger... but for me. For sisterly love.
Her lips curved into a, tender smile as she whispered softly, "Thank you, Fran... no... sister."
Fran’s eyes lit up like starlight. She turned her head quickly toward Dila, her face glowing with joy. Without hesitation, she reached out and clasped Dila’s hands in her own, squeezing them tightly as though she never wanted to let go.
"Thank you... for accepting me, sister, all this time," Fran said, her voice quivering with sincerity. Her smile shined, but there was a hint of mischief too. "Even though... sometimes I get jealous."
Dila’s cheeks flushed pink at once. Her blue eyes widened, shimmering as heat spread up to her ears. The students gasped again, their voices rising like a wave of delight as they hear what Fran said.
"Awwwwwww!" they chimed once more, some even hiding giggles behind their hands. The sound filled the classroom with warmth, like a chorus of hearts.
Professor Dexter, who had been standing so composed a moment ago, suddenly pulled out a crisp white handkerchief. He pressed it to his eyes, his shoulders shaking as though he were about to burst into tears.
"Too beautiful... truly too beautiful!" he declared dramatically, sniffing loudly and wiping his eyes with exaggerated swipes. "A sisterly bond so pure... it is enough to melt even an old professor’s heart!" "But I’m not old enough though ahh haha."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Some students chuckled, others outright laughed at the professor’s overly theatrical act. Even Dila lowered her face, hiding her embarrassed smile behind her hair, while Fran simply giggled with unrestrained joy, still clinging tightly to her sister’s hands.
The classroom, once tense and heavy, now glowed with warmth, laughter, and a rare kind of beauty.
Professor Dexter let out a long sigh, pressing the handkerchief to his eyes one last time before tucking it neatly back into his sleeve. His voice, though calmer, still carried that warm, playful tone as he turned toward Fran.
"Okay, Fran... thank you," he said with a gentle nod, his smile genuine. "That was more than enough. Truly."
Fran gave a tiny nod, her cheeks still rosy, her tail flicking with leftover excitement.
The professor then clapped his hands together softly, as though to settle the air. "Now now... everyone, please... be quiet for a moment." His tone was light, but firm enough to hush the lingering giggles. He straightened his robes and smiled as his eyes swept over the class.
"Let me continue calling your names," he went on, lifting the scroll in one hand. His lips twitched into a grin. "Though I must admit... it was quite a wild ride already. Hah... but I loved it."
The room burst into laughter at his little chime. Even the usually uptight nobles couldn’t help but chuckle, their voices mingling with the easy laughter. Fran joined in too, her bright laugh filling the air as she leaned back in her chair, still glowing from the earlier moment.
Dila, however, only smiled softly. She didn’t laugh aloud, but the corners of her lips curved faintly, as if she were humoring the professor from a distance. Her blue eyes lowered, her fingers resting lightly against her lap as her thoughts began to drift.
The laughter faded into background noise for her. The sound of students talking, the occasional scrape of a chair, the professor’s chuckle.... All of it became muted as her mind slipped elsewhere. A quiet heaviness tugged at her chest again, a reminder of the thoughts she had buried not long ago.
Now if i want to revive you, Nari...how? Do i need to use black magic?
Her gaze softened, shimmering faintly as though her thoughts carried her far away from the lively classroom. While everyone else enjoyed the moment, Dila sat still... smiling faintly on the outside, but already beginning to wander back into the quiet ache of her own heart.
Dila hugged her knees tighter, the classroom noise still folding around her like a distant tide. In the hollow between heartbeats she whispered to herself, I can’t believe Goddess Luminous let you go so easily. The thought settled on her like a cold stone...
astonishment, then a slow, sick guilt. She remembered the first night like midday everything shifted: the anger and scream of being ripped from one life, the nauseous spin of arriving in this world. She had opened her eyes to a stranger and somehow a voice that was not human, not cruel, and felt not a stranger at all and a kind bubble voice.
At first she hesitated and being skeptical about it....
But the truth, before she was not inserted in this world the voice had sounded like static, like a glitch in the dark. It was a threat in the shape of a mockery whisper. She remembered flinching away from it in dream like, thinking it a very high level enemy. But when the nightmares tore her apart.
The voice of a bubble girl stayed. It did not mock. It told her to breathe. It held a hand she could not see. In the quiet of those nights, when the world felt thin as paper and she believed she would break, that strange, steady presence wrapped around her and kept her whole.
She had used that presence the way like a drowning person uses a rope. Desperation makes one selfish. Dila’s throat closed around the memory: how many times had she leaned on that voice and never said thank you? How many times had she pushed limits, demanded more, taken power until the light inside her companion flickered?
The thought of it — of having taken comfort without giving anything back — made her cheeks burn with shame. What a shame for me, she thought bitterly. I treated you like a tool. I treated you like a trick. And you loved me anyway.
Tears pooled hot and sudden behind her lashes. They did not feel like weakness; they felt like confession. She let them fall. Each drop was an apology, slow and small. In her mind she replayed the image of the golden glow of a woman she had met in that sky — Luminous — and the steady, impossible voice that had been her anchor.
Gratitude and grief braided together until Dila could not tell which was which. She had been saved by a goddess and by a thing she named Nari...
And for what? Just for strength, for freedom, or perhaps for an end to her fear.
When she finally breathed, it was steadier. The apology hardened into something quieter but firmer. I will not waste you, she promised aloud, though her voice shook. I will learn. I will repay. I will be worth the mercy you gave me.
The classroom lights seemed to soften; the professor’s voice rose and fell like waves. Dila slowly folded those memories inward like a map — a route back to the people who had kept her alive in the dark.
The guilt remained, stinging, but beneath it grew a small, stubborn seed: the resolve to become the kind of person who would not be so quick to take without ever saying a proper thank you.
The roll call droned to its final echo, the professor’s voice growing softer as the scroll shimmered shut in his hand. A polite ripple of claps rose from the other students, but Dila hardly noticed. She blinked, her lashes still damp from her private thoughts, and the haze inside her chest slowly lifted. The weight of memory loosened its grip, like mist burning away under the sun.
Her gaze drifted to the small, arching windows along the side wall. Light spilled through the carved frames, gilding the marble floors in warm beams. The shadows had shifted, longer now, stretching across desks and quills. Dila tilted her head, her lips parting in surprise.
"Will you look at that..." she murmured under her breath, voice low enough for only herself. "It’s midday already."
For a heartbeat she just stared at the clear sky beyond the glass, its pale blues streaked with wandering clouds. The realization tugged her out of the spiral she had been trapped in only moments ago.
Her stomach gave a faint, traitorous twist, reminding her of what she hadn’t realized until now. To think... we still didn’t eat breakfast, she thought, resting her chin against her palm. A soft sigh left her as she added in her mind, and here we are, staring down this midday class without feast atleast a single bite in our stomachs.
Her shoulders eased at last, a tiny smile breaking through the heaviness. It wasn’t joy, not really, but the kind of smile that comes when you remember life’s simplest needs after wandering too long through sorrow. As she glanced at Fran beside her, fidgeting happily in her seat, and then at the professor closing his scroll with a flourish, Dila finally snapped back fully into the present.
The world of murmurs, beams of light, and the rustle of students’ robes returned in full. Whatever she had been carrying in silence, she now fully folded it away carefully.... at least for now.
Then....
Professor Dexter cleared his throat, brushing away the last trace of his roll calls.
"Now then... the orientation of our perspective general class," he began, his tone shifting back to steady authority. "It is only a set of simple reminders before you can all enjoy your midday food to the canteens."
The students leaned forward a little, some adjusting their robes, others already stretching as though they could almost taste the meal waiting for them. But the professor’s next words drew their attention back sharply.
"One important rule," he said, his voice carrying through the hall, "when night falls and the curfew hours begin... you are to remain in your dormitories. No wandering. No exceptions. Because..." He paused, letting the silence sink. His eyes narrowed faintly. "...there is something odd about this Twilight Academy."
A ripple passed through the classroom.
"Really?"
"Odd? What does he mean?"
"Is it dangerous?"
The students’ whispers rose again, but this time they weren’t mocking. They were curious, nervous, tinged with unease. Some exchanged glances, eyes wide as if expecting the professor to explain further.
Dila tilted her head slightly, her silver hair sliding over her shoulder as her blue eyes lingered on the professor. Odd...? she thought quietly. Her mind caught on the word like a hook snagging cloth. What kind of odd is he talking about? Strange magic? Dangerous creatures? Or something even darker...?
Her lips pressed together, thoughtful. The air around her felt heavier now, as if the professor’s warning carried a shadow that reached farther than his words.
Fran, sitting beside her, fidgeted with her sleeves, her ears twitching nervously as she whispered, "Sister... what do you think he means by odd?"
Dila didn’t answer right away. She only narrowed her eyes slightly, watching Professor Dexter with quiet intent, waiting to hear if he would reveal more.