July 13th.

Aurelius Capital, Ceiron City. Aurelius Academy.

A pale young man emerged through the entrance of the academy, his gaze exhausted, wandering aimlessly. Behind him, a towering silver gate loomed, it's conspicuous emblem gleaming faintly under a dim light.

"It's already so dark," the young man said as he begins to walk a dimly lit sidewalk. his dark hair blending seamlessly with the night.

Moments later, the pale young man found a well-lit town square few dark alleys away. Despite the darkness of the night, the square was alive with people bustling about, preparing for an event he was unaware of. He glanced at the whimsical figures distributing flyers, both his curiosity and interest piqued.

The pale young man decided to walk closer to the square.

Just as he was about to, a soft woman's voice sounded from a dark alley beside him.

"Would you like to buy a cheap relic?"

Subconsciously drawn by the sound of the voice, the pale young man turned to see a woman with long, smooth dark hair cascading down her back, clad in a gothic top hat adorned with an intricate lace. Her dark dress contrasted sharply with the conspicuous porcelain white mask that covered her face, it resembled an unfeeling goddess, surrounding her in an aura of intrigue.

"No." The pale young man shooked his head in response. He understood that a relic wouldn't just appear for sale in a town square, let alone one he could afford—assuming the relic is genuine, of course. A dry chuckle resonated in his mind.

The woman laughed, Her expression obscured by the white mask. "How about this then?, I want you to hold onto this artifact. If i don't visit you by midnight, it yours."

Visit me? I'm afraid you don't even know where I live." the pale young man replied.

The mysterious woman smiled faintly, her voice soft but laced with an otherworldly calm. "You need not worry. All I require is your name... and a single strand of your hair." She tilted her head slightly, the unfeeling gaze of the white mask locking onto his. "What do you think?"

The pale young man frowned, his hollow eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How about you tell me your name first? I can't say I'm a fan of myths you see..."

"My apologies," she said, her tone light but deliberate. She placed a hand over her chest and bowed her head slightly. "I am merely a diviner from the far north. My name is Ori."

The young man hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the 'relic' that she held—a strange, mundane looking ancient piece of paper, tied like a scroll. Finally, he sighed. "My name is Noctis," he replied, his voice low and guarded.

Noctis could feel that Ori's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'll take that as a yes, then?"

Noctis gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable.

"Excellent," she said, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. She held out her hand, and Noctis reluctantly plucked a strand of hair, placing it in her palm. As she closed her fingers around it, her expression obfuscated by the white mask. "This parchment" she began, her tone calm, "is said to be tied to secrets—ancient, primordial secrets. It's theorized to unlock a special-grade recollection when used. But despite being assessed countless times in the northern continent, its true tier remains... unknown."

Noctis's eyes narrowed. "A special-grade recollection?"

Ori's unfeeling white mask radiated an unsettling aura, "It means, Noctis, that this piece of paper could reveal truths long buried—truths that even the current revered saints you could name is unaware of."

Noctis was slightly taken aback by the knowledge Ori had just revealed, though his face betrayed little of his surprise. He remained skeptical, his sharp gaze fixed on the piece of paper she held. It was the relic.

Ori extended her hand, offering the relic—a scroll that looked as though it had weathered centuries. "Here," she said simply, her voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Noctis took it, his fingers brushing against the aged parchment. "I see," he replied, he scrutinized the scroll, pretending not to be intrigued by Ori's revelations. Yet, his mind raced, trying to piece together the implications of her words.

"I'll be off then, Noctis," Ori said, her voice soft but resonant. She turned, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, catching the faint light. Her gothic attire—a top hat adorned with intricate lace and a dark dress that seemed to melt in the shadows—stood in stark contrast to the porcelain white mask that concealed her face. It was a mask that gave her the appearance of an unfeeling goddess, distant and mysterious. "Noctis," she added, her voice echoing faintly, "Even the silence speaks volumes for those who dare to listen."

"Wait—" Noctis tried to speak, but before he could finish, Ori stepped into the dark alley, her figure melting into the shadows as she walked as though she had never been there at all.

He hesitated for a moment, then hurried after her, his footsteps echoing against the cobblestones. But when he reached the alley, there was nothing—no trace of her, no sound, no movement. Only the dim shadows of the night greeted him, stretching endlessly into the darkness.

"Strange," Noctis muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. He glanced down at the scroll in his hand, its weight suddenly feeling heavier.

Turning away from the alley, Noctis began walking back toward the street that leads to the town square, his mind still reeling from the encounter. As he approached, however, something felt... off. The bustling square he had passed earlier was gone. The tents, the stalls, the hum of activity—all of it vanished.

What greeted him instead was a quiet, ordinary town square bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. A few people strolled by, and the occasional carriage rattled past, but the lively event he had witnessed earlier was nowhere to be seen. It was as though it had never existed.

Noctis stood there for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What... just happened?" he whispered to himself, the scroll clutched tightly in his hand. The night seemed to grow colder, the shadows deeper, as he turned and walked away, the weight of unanswered questions pressing heavily on his mind.

"The academy really did a number on my head, didn't it?" Noctis attempted to laugh it off, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his unease.