* * *
Rhea leaned forward, her curiosity bubbling over as she addressed the silent guy sitting beside Arion.
"So, what's your name, friend?" she asked, her voice bright and cheerful.
The guy, wrapped in an oversized jacket, had his head bowed low, his hoodie pulled down so far that it obscured his face.
He seemed utterly uninterested in having a conversation with anyone, which only made Rhea more determined.
Arion, sitting nearby, pretended not to see anything, his eyes glued to an imaginary spot on the table. Meanwhile, Nesa hummed a random tune, her face turned away from the two as if she were suddenly captivated by the wall's intricate texture.
The guy, whose name was Solome, finally lifted his face just enough to glance at Rhea.
His cold, apathetic eyes locked onto hers for a brief moment, and the look he gave her was so subtle yet so cutting that it practically screamed, Who are you, peasant?
Without a word, he lowered his head again, retreating into his hoodie fortress and continuing to ignore her.
Rhea blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, her lips curled into a cold, sarcastic smile as she thought, 'Wow, look at this bastard. Acting like a cold prince and all. Who does he think he is?'
She couldn't help but let out a small, humorless laugh, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.
Nesa, sensing the tension, tugged at Rhea's shirt urgently.
"Just let him be, Rhea. He likes to be alone," she whispered, her voice laced with concern.
Arion nodded vigorously, his head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead. Trying to convey a message to Rhea – to stop her pointless endeavor less she woke the wrath of the man known as the Executor of Gender Equality.
Everyone in Class A knew about Solome's infamous reputation. He was legendary for his one-slap K.O. technique, which he had perfected on any girl who had dared to flirt with him.
The poor girl had tried to seduce him, and in response, he had delivered a slap so swift and powerful that she had fainted on the spot.
Since that day, no girl had dared to approach him.
Well, except for two brave souls who thought they could win over this ice-cold prince. Spoiler alert: they had met the same tragic fate, becoming cautionary tales for anyone foolish enough to mess with Solome.
Even the notorious Richard, known for his own brand of trouble, stayed clear of Solome. Rumors swirled around him like leaves in a storm, with whispers suggesting that he was connected by blood to the imperial family of the Moonglade Kingdom.
Or so people said.
Rhea, of course, was well aware of these rumors.
There was no way someone like her, who had purposely lowered her scores to remain in Class B, could avoid such juicy gossip.
Rhea had her own secrets, after all.
By day, she was just another student, but by night, she transformed into an information broker – a shadowy figure known as the Ghost of Infidelity.
She was the mastermind behind the Moonsong Academy's infamous tabloid, exposing scandals and betrayals with ruthless efficiency.
Her motto was simple: Leave no stone unturned.
At one point, Rhea had taken an interest in Nesa after hearing some bad rumors about her.
She had gotten close to Nesa, only to discover that the girl was nothing like the rumors suggested.
Nesa was kindhearted, rather gullible, a bit goofy, and completely innocent – a stark contrast to the manipulative people Rhea was used to dealing with.
Over time, Rhea had grown fiercely protective of Nesa, ready to banish any jealous enemies, no matter their size or stature.
None of the bad rumors about Nesa lasted more than a week. Anyone who dared to cross her would soon find threatening messages in their lockers, leaving some girls in tears.
Others had their dirty secrets revealed to the academy board, resulting in swift expulsions.
Rhea had wanted to clear Nesa's name in just three days, but she had to maintain her own credibility. Favoritism could lead to a boycott from her own members, and that was a risk she wasn't willing to take.
So, she remained in Class B, gathering information while keeping her true identity hidden.
She didn't want Nesa to know about her other persona, the one she somewhat despised.
And then there was this guy, Solome.
Rhea had no real information about him at all. It was as if his life was shrouded in a thick black fog that obscured his identity. Her curiosity was growing unbearable. Her motto echoed in her mind: Do not leave any stone unturned when you desire something.
Of course, there was another motive behind her interest in Solome. It was an instruction from the revered Lady Shera, whose presence somehow had warmed Rhea's heart and soul when they first met in her dreams.
Lady Shera had informed her about the impending turmoil in the world, explaining that the connection to her true self, Kyshera, The Nature's Celestial, had been severed from her as an avatar.
Now, hope rested in the hands of a select few, with Arion at the center of it all.
Nesa, Rhea, and this mysterious guy beside Arion needed to embark on a perilous journey to save the world, just like the stories of old.
But first, Rhea needed at least some basic information about this last member of their group.
Though Lady Shera hadn't given her much instruction, and Rhea wasn't entirely sure how she felt about being chosen for such a grand mission – she had decided to give it her all.
After all, she had once dreamed of being a magical girl who saved the world.
This was her chance to live out that childhood fantasy – minus the sparkly transformation sequences.
She had even resigned from her post as queen, not that it mattered much since, after the ceremony, she had proven herself attuned with Ether and practically graduated from the academy.
With a tear-jerking parting, she had left the mantle of the next queen to her heir.
Yeah, whatever.
Now, she was ready to try her best to forge a relationship with the cold prince Solome.
* * *
As the journey continued, the four of them had finally found some respite, drifting into a deep slumber.
Arion, however, remained within Shera's realm, seated cross-legged beneath a peculiar waterfall.
The cascade of water shimmered with an ever-changing spectrum of colors, with the most radiant hue among them being a brilliant emerald green. The scene was serene yet surreal – as if the waterfall itself had a personality and was showing off its best colors just to impress.
Shera, on the other hand, had made herself comfortable in a hammock fashioned from vines and branches, suspended between two ancient trees. She lounged lazily, yawning with tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
A floating spirit, composed of wind and water, with leaves and branches forming its attire, hovered nearby looking like a nature-themed fashion model.
The spirit delicately fed Shera a grape, which she accepted with the grace of someone who had clearly mastered the art of being pampered.
Chewing on the sweet yet slightly tart fruit, Shera began counting on her fingers, her emerald eyes narrowing in thought as she tried to estimate how long Arion had been immersed in his training.
"It's almost three days now," she muttered to herself.
"His progress is quite smooth. It seems he will wake up soon."
She glanced at Arion, who remained motionless under the waterfall, his expression one of deep concentration.
Shera had initially expected Arion to be naturally attuned to the Nature Elements, given his lineage. She had assumed he would possess a talent at least equal to his mother's, or perhaps even surpass it.
However, reality proved otherwise.
While Arion's abilities were certainly better than his father's, they fell short of her expectations.
After much deliberation and a fair amount of headache, she had devised a method to accelerate his progress. By immersing him in this special waterfall of hers, she hoped to help him attune to Nature's Element faster and take his first step toward attaining his Minor Chakra.
But there was something else – something that had been gnawing at the back of her mind.
All the orbs she created which corresponded to the various magic arts of the 13 Realms, had been weirdly reacting strongly to Arion's presence.
They resonated with an intensity and synchronicity that Shera had never witnessed before.
It was baffling, to say the least, and it left her stumped. What could it mean? She had no idea. This was uncharted territory, even for someone like her.
Shera sighed, her thoughts drifting to the future. Once Arion achieved the first flower, Muladhara, she planned to introduce him to other arts.
Her original plan was straightforward: teach him the Soul Flame to nourish his body and soul, the Seeds of Insight to enhance his close-combat capabilities, and a few simple magic arts to give him an edge in battle.
But now, she wasn't so sure.
If her suspicions were correct, Arion might possess the potential to become the strongest Weaver in existence – stronger even than the first and second heroes of the war.
Of course, this was all speculation. For now, survival was their primary concern.
Shera also had plans for the others – Nesa, Rhea, and that Solome guy.
She intended to bring them into her realm for specialized training.
But her current state left her with limited energy, barely enough to materialize outside or delve into others' minds.
So for now, she could only focus on Arion.
"Sigh. So much work to do. So much trouble to face. So much thinking in the head," Shera grumbled, stretching lazily in her hammock. "If Urriel were in my position, the world would've been doomed by now. Sigh. I wonder how the others are doing. Are they also stuck in this mess, or are they slightly better off? Hopefully, it's the latter."
As she continued her musings, Arion's eyes suddenly fluttered open.
His emerald irises glowed brightly, reflecting the shimmering colors of the waterfall.
* * *