After their Magic Engineering class with Albert, class 1A joins Azrael for another Practical Studies lesson. Though he is smiling, his class can feel his intense annoyed emotions through his nether aura. He takes a deep breath, noticing the growing unrest and calms himself. "Apologies," he says, "I had an unsavoury meet-up before this class."
"An unsavoury meet-up?" asks Calliope.
Azrael sighs, "It was a discussion with Headmaster Ubel..." His glare softens and he continues, "Regarding Amanda's betrayal."
Everyone has come to terms with Amanda 'betraying' the academy by working for an unknown 'organisation'. Save for Azrael and Arthur, the class is unaware of Amanda's involvement with the god, Azazel. Though they've only known Amanda for several weeks, the class has grown intimate enough to consider each other family. Her betrayal horrified the class and instigated a minor level of distrust to grow within their bond.
"What will the academy do?" she asks.
"Probably target her," says Katheryn, bluntly.
"No," says Calliope, covering her mouth in shock. "Professor Azrael, please tell us they aren't going to target Amanda."
Azrael shakes his head. "If she's a threat, we were ordered to... exterminate her."
"T-that can't be."
"Don't tell me you're going to go through with that!" yells Adam.
"I will do what I can," he says, clenching his fist.
The class begins shortly after this exchange and passes in a flash. Arthur tries to approach Azrael but sees Calliope over his shoulder. He looks to the side and notices a dark-skinned girl, with short, frizzy hair lying asleep. The girl Arthur is staring at intensely is none other than the dream professional, The Elusive Alora Dream.
He walks to her and stands there, waiting. H-how do I proceed from here? Should I wake her? But wouldn't that be rude?
"You can wake her," says Chari, standing behind Arthur. "Alora doesn't mind."
"Are you sure?" She nods her head. Arthur turns to Alora and says, "Hey, Alora. It's Arthur Pendragon. I want to speak to you," as he gently shakes her.
Alora's patterned breathing stops and she lifts her head. With squinted eyes, she looks at Arthur, confused. "Who?" she asks, tilting her head.
"A-Arthur Pendragon."
"Ar...thur...?" she asks with slurred speech. After several seconds pass, it finally hits her and she says, "Ah, yes, Arthur. Sorry," she yawns, "I just woke up. You'll have to forgive my morning memory," she says, smiling.
"I-it's no problem." Her eyes are now fully open, to reveal her beautiful hazel eyes. Arthur's focus remains focused on their allure.
"Did you need something?"
"Ah, yes. I wanted to speak to you about dreams."
"Dreams? What is it you'd like to know?"
"Well," he says, glancing at Azrael, who is speaking to Rose, "I want to ask for your advice. My friend suffers from nightmares—"
"Nightmares? Is it an adult? A child?"
'He's an adult in a child's body', is not what I can tell her. "He's a child."
"A child, you say. Well, they are more prone to having nightmares. How long has your friend had these nightmares?"
"Seven months."
"Seven months!?" Everyone's attention is directed at Alora. She smiles and they continue discussing with each other. "Seven months? Recurring?" she adds. Arthur nods his head. "A child having recurring nightmares for seven months is unheard of. Does your friend say anything when he's asleep?"
"No. He only moans and cries." Arthur clenches his fist, "It's as though he's in serious pain."
"How old is this child?"
"He's a teenager."
"And have you discussed this with him?"
"I tried; however, he's avoiding the topic."
"I see. Without him being near me, I can't give a complete diagnosis of the problem." She sees the anguish on Arthur's face. "Is he someone you would rather not reveal?" He nods his head. "I see. That makes this difficult." She thinks for a second and says, "If this person experiences a nightmare tonight, I want you to hold them. That should stimulate their instincts and make them aware that they have someone near, protecting them. Incubi may cause these nightmares; to ward them off, I advise purchasing a charm. If none of this works, I suggest visiting me. With my Dream Magic, I can get to the root of the problem and solve it faster than any other method you can imagine."
"Thanks, Alora."
"Uhm, Arthur, I—"
"Arthur," interrupts Azrael. "I need to speak to you."
"Sorry, Chari, I need to go. Thanks again for the advice, Alora."
"All in a day's work," she says, smiling. After he leaves, Alora looks at Chari and says, "You know who his friend is, don't you?"
She nods her head. "I heard the name, yes."
"Will you tell me the name?"
She hesitates for a moment. "I..."
"Chari, this person might be in serious danger. If I can identify who it is, I can better help Arthur."
Chari watches Arthur walking at Azrael's side. "It's... Professor Azrael," she admits.
Alora's jaw drops. "Professor Azrael?" She peeks over Chari's shoulder and stalks Azrael and Arthur, then says, "I always thought they had a deeper relationship but to actually hear it shocks me."
"Will you help Professor Azrael?"
Alora smiles, "Of course I will. As his student and a professional in the mystique of dreams, I'm duty-bound to help those in need." Chari smiles. "That said, I fear this might be a difficult job."
As instructed, Arthur awaited the moment Azrael was asleep. Holding him, he thinks, would be much harder than you'd think. Azrael is always on guard. I think this runs deeper than his abilities as a god. I think this is something his host has ingrained into his body. As Arthur sits on his window sill, he watches the stars in the sky. What life has that poor child been living for him to behave like a soldier?
"No..." Arthur turns to face his door. "No..." repeats the voice.
It's starting. Arthur leaves his room and walks to where the noise is coming from.
"No..." it continues. Arthur arrives at Azrael's door. "I'm... sorry... Please..." Arthur clenches his fists and grits his teeth. He enters Azrael's room and finds himself engulfed in a storm of his nether aura. At the centre of the storm, Azrael is squirming and sweating profusely.
This is... bad.
Azrael's host has virtually no affinity for mana but high compatibility with nether energy. In a realm where nether energy users scarcely exist, the minuscule traces of nether energy in the environment, which leaks into the Mortal Realm through the dungeons, would usually not be enough to replenish the lost energy of a nether energy user. Nether also forms when mana has been corrupted. This corruption occurs after someone dies begrudgingly through horrific means such as torture. However, like with the red dirt, a catalyst can act as a deeper connection between the nether energy user and the nether energy from The End, making it possible for the user to replenish their lost aura faster and strengthen their spells. Azrael's room is filled with catalysts from various dungeon raids in which he and Arthur partook.
If he's drawing power from all these catalysts, he could end up destroying this town. I need to calm him down. Arthur pushes himself into the nether energy storm, sustaining various cuts and bruises from the viciousness and purity of the nether energy produced. The closer he gets, the more damage he sustains. Any normal mage would be killed ten times over with this much exposure to pure nether energy but Arthur, who has been training under Azrael for six months, has somewhat adapted to the toxicity of nether energy. Using his acclimatised body and a mana coat around his body, Arthur reaches Azrael.
When he touches him; however, he starts spewing a bucketful of blood. Images flash through his mind in rapid succession. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions of images surge, ingraining themselves into his memory. Millions of images detailing the young boy's past. Arthur pulls Azrael towards him, despite the damage it does to his body, and says with tears streaming down his face, "Y... You're not alone anymore, Azrael! I'm here! Do you hear me, Azrael!? I'M HERE!"
Azrael stops squirming and the storm quells. He slowly opens his opal eyes, surrounded by a crimson red from all the crying, and says, confused, "Arthur?" Arthur smiles and faints from the blood loss.
—Outside Magus Academy premises
"It took you long enough to show up," says a woman, masked by the shadows.
"Sorry, sorry," responds a man dressed in a black suit with a red tie. Like the woman's, his face is masked by the night's darkness. "I was still prepping."
"So, are you ready?"
"As can be," he says, cracking a laugh. "That bastard Ubel will finally receive his just desserts."
"And you will too, Professor Azrael," whispers the woman. "May you have sweet dreams tonight," she says, laughing.