A few weeks had passed since the incident, and things seemed to have returned to normal at the academy. The buzzing excitement of daily life resumed as students rushed between their classes and training sessions, honing their abilities. Ethan and Seojin fell into a routine, attending their lessons together, sharpening their skills, and sharing meals in the busy cafeteria. Occasionally, they would run into Dong Hae, though their interactions with him had become more strained.
Today was no different. Ethan and Seojin were seated at their usual table, trays of food in front of them, chatting about the morning's sparring session. The cafeteria was filled with the noise of clattering dishes and animated conversations. As they ate, Ethan spotted Dong Hae across the room, entering with his usual quiet presence. The prince's long, dark hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail, and he moved with a grace that seemed almost unnatural, his every step deliberate and measured.
Ethan's face brightened, and he waved at Dong Hae, hoping to rekindle the warmth they had shared in the infirmary weeks earlier. Seojin followed suit, lifting his hand in a half-hearted greeting. Dong Hae, however, showed no sign of recognition. His expression remained unreadable as he collected his tray of food and, without even glancing their way, headed toward a far corner of the cafeteria, where he sat with only his servant for company.
Ethan's hand lowered slowly, a pang of sadness spreading through him. He glanced over at Seojin, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why is he acting like that?" he asked, the hurt evident in his voice.
Seojin, in the middle of stuffing his mouth with food, shrugged. "I dunno," he mumbled, struggling to chew. "He's been acting weird since the attack."
Ethan paused, thinking back to the day Dong Hae had visited him in the infirmary. "But he was so kind to us that day," Ethan said, his voice tinged with disbelief. "He visited me, brought me food, even sat and talked with me for a while. It doesn't make any sense that he'd just... ignore us now."
Seojin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing over at Dong Hae, who was silently eating with his servant. He leaned in slightly and muttered, "Well, the thing about Dong Hae is... he's complicated. He's royalty, remember? He doesn't exactly know how to make friends." Seojin's tone was light, but his eyes were serious. "Maybe he's distancing himself on purpose. He probably doesn't want to get too close to anyone."
Ethan's shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at his half-eaten meal. "That doesn't make it any easier," he muttered. He couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was going on with Dong Hae, something that neither he nor Seojin fully understood.
Trying to lift the mood, Seojin decided to change the subject. "Hey, let's not worry about him right now. Today's the big day, remember?"
Ethan looked up, confused. "Big day?"
"Yeah," Seojin said, sounding a little surprised. "Today's the day an instructor chooses us. You don't have anyone in mind?"
Ethan frowned, pausing mid-bite. "An instructor chooses us? How does that work?"
Seojin nearly choked on his food, staring at Ethan like he'd just said something outrageous. "How do you not know this?" he asked, incredulous. "You've been here for a while now!"
Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I've only been here a month, Seojin. You know that. Before that, I didn't even know I had powers."
Seojin sighed, feeling a bit guilty for forgetting how new Ethan was to all this. He leaned back in his chair, setting down his fork as he prepared to explain. "Okay, so here's how it works. In your first year at the academy, you focus on training your abilities and weapons, right? That's what we've been doing. But by the second year, things get serious. We start getting assigned missions."
"Missions?" Ethan interrupted, his brow furrowed. "What kind of missions?"
Seojin waved a hand dismissively. "I'll get to that. Just listen. So, in your second year, you're expected to use what you've learned in real-world situations—missions. You know, tasks where you can prove your strength, intelligence, and teamwork. It's basically a test to see how well you've developed."
Ethan listened intently, trying to absorb all the new information."And by the third year," Seojin continued, "you get to decide if you want to join a clan or work independently. The whole academy is built around this system. It's like a funnel, pushing you toward either finding a clan to support you or becoming a solo operative if you're confident enough in your abilities."
Ethan blinked in confusion. "Wait, but what about the instructors? What do they have to do with any of this?"
Seojin sighed dramatically, leaning forward again. "Okay, so you know how we've been training with basic weapons, right? Swords, bows, daggers, that kind of stuff. Well, these weapons can either absorb your power or have their own powers infused into them, which makes us 'awakened' ones stronger. But not everyone's compatible with every weapon."
Ethan nodded, trying to follow.
"You don't just choose a weapon," Seojin explained. "The weapon chooses you. Based on your affinity—how well you match with a weapon—an instructor is assigned to you. That instructor will be like your master or mentor. They'll teach you how to use your powers and your weapon, and they'll act as your guardian."
"Guardian?" Ethan repeated, still trying to make sense of it.
Seojin nodded. "Yeah. A guardian is someone who's responsible for you. If anyone messes with you, it's like they're offending your guardian. And if your instructor is part of a clan, it's like they're challenging the entire clan. It's a big deal."
Ethan's eyes widened in realization. "So, the instructor isn't just a teacher... they're kind of like a protector too."
"Exactly," Seojin confirmed, going back to his food. "But here's the catch—not everyone gets chosen by a weapon. It all depends on your talent. Some people don't match with any weapon, and they have to keep training until they find something that works for them."
Ethan processed this quietly, feeling the weight of what Seojin had just told him. The academy was far more complex than he'd initially realized. It wasn't just about honing powers—it was about finding your place, your path, and your allies in a world that was increasingly dangerous. And the bond with an instructor, with a guardian, was crucial in navigating that world.
But there was something else lingering in Seojin's mind, something he hadn't told Ethan. There were special weapons at the academy—ancient weapons, each with its own personality and powers. These weapons had been passed down through the centuries, each one a relic of a powerful clan. They were temperamental and arrogant, refusing to serve any master unless they deemed them worthy.
Seojin had heard the stories of these weapons as a child. It was said that only a handful of people throughout history had been chosen by them, and those who had were often destined for greatness—or disaster. For the past 20 years, no one had been chosen by one of these legendary weapons, and many believed that the weapons had gone dormant, or that they had simply decided that no one in this generation was worthy of wielding them.
Seojin glanced at Ethan, wondering if he should tell him about the ancient weapons. But then he decided against it. After all, the chances of one of those weapons choosing someone now were practically zero. There was no point in getting Ethan's hopes up. And besides, Seojin figured, they had enough to worry about with their regular training.
For now, it was better to focus on the basics—surviving the academy, mastering their abilities, and finding an instructor who would guide them through the challenges ahead.
Ethan continued to eat in silence, his mind swirling with thoughts about what Seojin had just explained. There was so much more to this world than he had ever imagined, and the weight of it all was starting to settle on his shoulders. But despite the confusion and uncertainty, there was also a sense of excitement. He was on the brink of something new, something bigger than himself.