Chapter 36 - Crossing the Line
Morning classes came and went.
The academy continued as it always had.
Students rushed between lectures.
Professors filled blackboards with notes.
Training halls echoed with the sound of wooden swords striking one another.
Life moved on.
For everyone...
Except Lyra.
Professor Bradmore lowered her practice sword.
"That's enough for today."
The second-year students relaxed almost immediately.
Some stretched their arms.
Others returned the practice weapons to their racks.
Conversations slowly filled the training hall.
Lyra quietly placed her own sword back in its stand.
As she adjusted the strap of her bag—
"...Ashbourne."
She turned.
Professor Bradmore stood near the center of the hall.
"...A word."
The surrounding conversations quieted for only a moment before resuming.
Lyra approached.
"...Yes, Professor?"
Bradmore studied her for a second.
"You've been distracted."
"...I'm sorry."
"I'm not asking for an apology."
Her voice remained calm.
"I'm asking if you're still capable of training."
Lyra hesitated.
"...Yes."
Bradmore nodded once.
"Good."
She glanced toward the empty practice floor.
"Then don't stop."
"Skill dulls faster than confidence."
For a brief moment...
Neither of them spoke.
Then Bradmore added,
"...You're dismissed."
"...Yes, Professor."
Lyra bowed slightly before leaving the hall.
The corridor outside buzzed with students changing classes.
As Lyra walked past...
Fragments of conversations drifted through the air.
"...Professor Bradmore still lets her attend second-year training."
"I heard she even beat Darius once."
"Seriously?"
"That's what people say."
"Then none of this makes sense."
"It doesn't."
The voices faded behind her.
No laughter.
No ridicule.
Just confusion.
Some students looked at her.
Others simply continued on their way.
The academy had begun trying to make sense of something it didn't understand.
"...Ashbourne."
Another voice called from behind.
Lyra turned.
Darius approached, carrying a stack of notebooks beneath one arm.
He stopped beside her.
"I heard about the practical."
Lyra lowered her gaze.
"...I'm sorry."
Darius blinked.
"...Why are you apologizing to me?"
She paused.
"...I don't know."
For the first time...
A faint smile crossed his face.
"You really do apologize too much."
Lyra looked up, surprised.
Darius adjusted the books in his arm.
"I just wanted to tell you something."
He met her eyes.
"I don't know what happened during Professor Aldric's class."
"And frankly..."
"...it's none of my business."
He shrugged.
"But I do know one thing."
"You defeated me."
Lyra's eyes widened slightly.
"It wasn't luck."
"It wasn't pity."
"And Professor Bradmore certainly doesn't keep students in her class out of sympathy."
His expression remained as composed as ever.
"So..."
He gave a small nod.
"...Don't let other people decide what your effort was worth."
Before Lyra could answer—
He simply continued walking.
"...See you in class."
Lyra stood still.
Watching him disappear into the crowd.
"...Thank you."
The words came too late.
He never heard them.
Just before lunch...
A first-year student hurried down the corridor.
"...Miss Ashbourne?"
Lyra looked up.
"Professor Aldric has requested to see you."
Several nearby students glanced over.
Lyra's fingers tightened slightly around her books.
"...I understand."
Professor Aldric's office was quiet.
"...Come in."
Lyra stepped inside.
Professor Aldric stood beside his desk.
Unlike the practical...
There was no register in his hands.
No students watching.
Only silence.
He gestured toward the chair opposite him.
"...Please."
Lyra sat carefully.
For a few moments...
Neither of them spoke.
Finally—
Aldric sighed.
"...I owe you an apology."
Lyra looked up.
"...Professor?"
"I spoke with the Headmaster this morning."
His expression carried genuine regret.
"I learned about your circumstances."
He paused.
"I should have been informed before conducting that examination."
Lyra quietly shook her head.
"...You didn't know."
"No."
"I didn't."
"And because I didn't..."
He looked down briefly.
"...I put you in an unfair position."
The room fell silent again.
Then Aldric folded his hands.
"Your Astral Materialization evaluation will be postponed."
"You'll take it when you're ready."
"There will be no penalty."
Lyra blinked.
"...Thank you."
Aldric nodded.
"I've also reviewed Professor Bradmore's reports."
That surprised her.
"You've maintained satisfactory results in Reinforcement Combat."
His tone became firmer.
"So don't make the mistake of believing one weakness erases everything else you've accomplished."
Lyra lowered her eyes.
"...Yes, Professor."
Aldric stood.
"...That's all."
As Lyra reached the door—
He spoke one last time.
"...Miss Ashbourne."
She turned.
"I don't expect you to overcome your fear overnight."
"...But I do expect you to keep moving forward."
For the first time since entering the office...
Lyra gave a small, genuine nod.
"...I will."
The afternoon sun cast long beams of light across the academy grounds.
Without really thinking...
Lyra's feet carried her toward the familiar training hall.
Only when she reached the door...
Did she realize where it was.
Training hall.
Mrs. Bradmore had already informed that she won't be able to come.
But habit had brought her back.
She quietly stepped inside.
The hall was empty.
The weapon racks stood untouched.
The practice floor was silent.
And today...
There was no Erix waiting with crossed arms.
No calm voice correcting her stance.
No Professor Bradmore observing from the side.
Only stillness.
Lyra reached for a wooden sword.
"...Just one more day."
She whispered the words to herself.
Then stepped onto the practice floor.
The training hall was silent.
Only the rhythmic sound of a wooden sword cutting through the air broke the stillness.
One swing.
Another.
A step forward.
Pivot.
Slash.
Reset.
Again.
Lyra repeated the same sequence over and over.
It wasn't fast.
Nor particularly powerful.
Just...
Familiar.
The movements Erix had drilled into her countless times.
Even without him there...
Her body remembered.
"...Your third swing is still off."
The voice echoed from the doorway.
Lyra stopped.
She turned.
Seren stood leaning against the frame with his arms folded.
"...Seren?"
He pushed himself off the wall and walked inside.
"I've been standing there for almost a minute."
"...You didn't notice."
Lyra looked away.
"...Sorry."
Seren picked up one of the wooden swords from the rack.
"You've been apologizing a lot lately."
He weighed the sword in his hand before giving it an experimental swing.
"...It's getting repetitive."
Despite herself...
The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched.
It disappeared almost immediately.
Seren noticed.
He pretended he hadn't.
He stepped onto the practice floor.
"...Come on."
Lyra blinked.
"...What?"
"A spar."
"I'm not really..."
"...In the mood?"
He finished for her.
"I figured."
"Then why?"
Seren shrugged.
"Because your stance is getting ugly."
Lyra stared at him.
"...That's your reason?"
"Mostly."
He pointed his sword toward her.
"And because Erix would probably complain if he came back and found out you skipped training."
A quiet silence followed.
Then...
Lyra walked to the weapon rack and picked up another wooden sword.
"...Just one round."
Seren smirked.
"See?"
"That wasn't so difficult."
They took their positions.
Neither of them moved for several seconds.
Then—
Clack.
The wooden swords met.
Seren wasn't trying to win.
He kept his movements measured.
Almost lazy.
Lyra attacked first.
A diagonal slash.
He blocked it effortlessly.
"...Too obvious."
She stepped back.
Adjusted her footing.
Attacked again.
This time lower.
Seren parried.
"...Better."
Another exchange.
Then another.
Between strikes...
He spoke as casually as if they were discussing the weather.
"Your shoulders."
Lyra corrected them instinctively.
"...Less tense."
She loosened them.
"There."
Another clash.
"See?"
"You do listen."
"...Only sometimes."
"Oh?"
"So you admit you ignore me the rest of the time."
Lyra didn't answer.
Instead...
She swung again.
Seren laughed.
"...That's probably the closest thing to revenge I'll get."
For the first time in days...
The silence around Lyra didn't feel heavy.
Several minutes passed.
Both lowered their swords.
Breathing lightly.
Seren rested his practice sword on his shoulder.
"...Better."
Lyra looked at him.
"...What is?"
"You."
She blinked.
"I thought you'd keep hiding in your room."
"...I almost did."
"I know."
The words came so naturally that Lyra looked at him in surprise.
Seren scratched the back of his neck.
"...Amy told me."
"No."
He corrected himself.
"...Actually..."
"I guessed."
Another quiet silence settled between them.
This one wasn't uncomfortable.
Seren looked around the empty hall.
"...It's weird."
Lyra followed his gaze.
"What is?"
"...Too quiet."
She understood immediately.
Every afternoon...
Someone would already be standing in the center of the hall.
Waiting.
Correcting every mistake.
Making her repeat the same movement until she got it right.
Now...
The hall felt strangely empty.
"...He'll be back."
Seren said it so casually it almost sounded like an afterthought.
Lyra gave a small nod.
"...I know."
Seren placed the wooden sword back on the rack.
"...You know something?"
Lyra looked at him.
"I've heard about a hundred versions of what happened."
He sighed dramatically.
"Honestly..."
"The academy has terrible storytellers."
A tiny laugh escaped Lyra before she could stop it.
She immediately covered her mouth.
Seren raised an eyebrow.
"...There it is."
"...What?"
"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten how to laugh."
Lyra lowered her hand.
The smile faded.
"...Things are different now."
Seren's expression softened.
"...Yeah."
"They are."
He didn't deny it.
He didn't tell her everything would be fine.
Instead...
He walked toward the doorway.
Just before stepping outside...
He stopped.
Without turning around—
"...People around here talk too much."
Lyra quietly listened.
"They'll keep talking."
"They'll make up stories."
"They'll decide things they know nothing about."
He glanced sideways.
"...Let them."
A brief silence.
"The people worth proving yourself to..."
"...aren't the ones shouting in the corridors."
Lyra stood quietly.
Those words settled somewhere deep inside her.
Not because they solved anything.
But because...
For the first time in days...
Someone had spoken to her without pity.
Without disappointment.
Without demanding answers.
Just...
Normally.
Seren started walking away.
"...Seren."
He looked back.
"...Thank you."
He shrugged as if it were nothing.
"...Don't get used to it."
Lyra almost smiled again.
He took a few more steps.
Then raised one hand without looking back.
"...Tomorrow."
Lyra tilted her head.
"...Hm?"
"...Same time."
He continued walking.
"...Your third swing still sucks."
The training hall fell silent once more.
Lyra looked down at the wooden sword still in her hands.
Then...
She adjusted her stance on her own.
Third swing.
She shifted her weight.
Just as Seren had pointed out.
The blade cut cleanly through the air.
She paused.
Then quietly repeated the movement.
Again.
And again.
Outside the hall...
Seren glanced back through the window.
Seeing Lyra continue practicing, he smiled faintly.
"...Guess she'll be alright."
With that...
He slipped his hands into his pockets and headed back toward the academy.
The training hall echoed once more.
Not with whispers.
But with the steady rhythm of a wooden sword moving through the air.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading!
Not every chapter needs a big battle to move the story forward. Sometimes the quiet moments are the ones that shape a character the most. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, especially Seren's interactions with Lyra.
I'd love to hear your thoughts! What was your favorite moment from this chapter? Your comments always make my day, and they motivate me to keep writing. Until next time!