As the banquet in the Grand Hall was nearing its end, Nicholas packed up his books to leave the library. The vice-chancellors of the First University, and their department chairs, found themselves buried under piles of paperwork in their respective offices.
When the moon, partially obscured by a thin veil of mist, feebly shed its moonlight.
When this day was about to end.
A black butterfly fluttered its wings and rose from the lakeside of Bell Lake.
A flicker.
Another flicker.
It disappeared into thin air.
Without sound or warning, not disturbing a single ripple.
When it reappeared in this world, it was already over ten thousand miles away, hovering above a calm sea.
It danced gracefully, landing on a blue, delicate fingertip.
"News from the First University?" The Mist Captain twirled the black butterfly wings in his hand.
Fluttering scales fell, forming a cryptic symbol.
