SL: Academy Letter
After graduating early from the Junior Academy, Valeryon retreated to the familiar safety of her clan's castle. Outside, the world seemed sharp and hostile. Every time she ventured into the city, stares and whispers followed her, amplifying the feeling that she didn’t belong. Casual conversations, which others breezed through effortlessly, left her mentally exhausted and confused. Social cues like small talk and laughter were alien to her, turning interactions into a chore. Inside the castle, however, she could breathe again. The empty, quiet halls gave her the peace she craved. There was no need to pretend or decipher the hidden meanings behind words or glances. Here, she could simply exist, uninterrupted.
Back at the castle, Valeryon dove into her studies with a focus she had not felt before. Books, magic, and weaving became her sanctuary, her world. Unlike people, these things followed rules she understood. Magic was a structured force, bending to logic and intent. Weaving was rhythmic, a comforting series of patterns. Everything within these pursuits was clear, free from the confusing chaos of human interaction.
But everything changed on her eighth birthday. For the first time, the long-forbidden Music Hall was opened to her. Stepping into the space felt like entering a new realm. The room glowed with the presence of Immortal Wisps, spiritual echoes of ancestors who had mastered their crafts in life. These spirits floated, waiting to be awakened. Whenever Valeryon picked up an instrument, a Wisp would appear, offering guidance without the burden of expectations. Here, mistakes were not judged; they were steps in a journey of exploration. It was in this hall that Valeryon found something rare—a kind of freedom she had never known. She wasn’t learning out of duty but out of genuine curiosity. Music became her escape, a place where she could express herself without the fear of getting it wrong.
Eager to share this newfound joy, Valeryon invited Laurel to join her in the Music Hall. True to his lively nature, Laurel embraced the Music Hall with his usual enthusiasm, and together they explored its many instruments. Valeryon fell in love with the pedal harp, its gentle plucking of strings reminiscent of weaving fabrics on a loom. Laurel gravitated toward the violin, its rich, resonant tones perfectly complementing Valeryon’s harp melodies. Their shared sessions filled the once-empty halls with music, bringing warmth and vitality to the castle that neither had experienced before.
When not immersed in music, Valeryon found peace in the Weaving Room. The rhythmic clatter of the loom, the texture of fabric sliding through her fingers, and the vibrant colours surrounding her created a meditative escape. Weaving became a powerful form of expression, allowing her to convey emotions she often struggled to articulate. Each movement of her hands breathed life into raw materials, transforming them into exquisite textiles imbued with subtle magical properties. Over time, through experimentation, she discovered that her woven creations could resist temperature changes, repel dust, and withstand wear. More than just practical, the fabric responded to her intent; if she wished it to tear, it would, and if she desired it to remain whole, it would become impenetrable. This newfound ability significantly changed her life, especially with her veil. She no longer had to awkwardly manoeuvre it while eating; the fabric effortlessly allowed food to pass through while maintaining its opaque appearance
To test the extent of her magic, Valeryon asked Laurel for help. Together, they experimented to see if anyone else could control her woven creations. The answer was clear—her magic was unique to her. This discovery empowered Valeryon, giving her control over something tangible in a world where so much felt out of reach.
Her exploration did not conclude with weaving. Inspired by the connection between her emotional intent and her craft, Valeryon began to wonder whether the same principles applied to music. The idea of channeling her emotions through melodies and having an effect on the listener intrigued her. She found herself experimenting, letting her magic flow through her fingers as she played the harp, subtly infusing the notes with her intent. The result was a deeply personal experience, the music reflecting her innermost feelings and in turn creates a feedback loop that influenced her while she in turn influenced it. It was only because of how in tune with her own magic that she was that she could sense its work on her psych as she played.
Eager to test the theory further, Valeryon turned once again to Laurel. Together, they designed an experiment, bypassing complex statistical analysis which seemed unable to capture the complexity of the data they would be handling in favour of Laurel’s self-reporting on how he felt during each performance. They spent hours in the Music Hall, with Valeryon playing while Laurel provided feedback, comparing her emotions with the ones he experienced. The results were fascinating—her magic had a clear impact on his mood, shifting in response to her emotional state.
As time passed, Valeryon’s focus on her projects grew, so much so that Laurel’s absence became a mere footnote in her days. He had traveled to the island of Adhe with his mother, Daphne, to attend a family celebration. Adhe, an island in the Archipelago, governed by the seraph Sil-Adhe Vassal Family was celebrating a special holiday meant to strengthen familial bonds and connection to the air of the seraphs and those with seraph blood. While Valeryon missed Laurel, she found that her productivity soared in his absence, giving her time to focus on creating a special birthday gift for him.
However, when Laurel returned, Valeryon’s hyper-focus on her work began to take its toll on their friendship. As she became more engrossed in her weaving, she inadvertently pushed him away, something she barely noticed until Laurel proposed a new exploration—an inverse of the emotional study to investigate whether Laurel’s emotional translated through music. His suggestion reignited her excitement, and she quickly set aside her other projects to focus on their new endeavour.
But as the days passed and their study progressed, Valeryon began to notice subtle changes in Laurel. He often seemed tired, his usually bright demeanour clouded by dark circles under his eyes. At first, she brushed it off, assuming it was a result of his travels. But as time went on, the signs became harder to ignore.
Still, time slipped by unnoticed as Valeryon became engrossed in her work. Thus, when her thirteenth birthday arrived, it caught her completely off guard. The day slipped past her until Daphne guided her to a previously unexplored section of the castle—the Brewing Room. This cozy space was lined with shelves of glass vials and ingredients. Daphne explained its significance, revealing that this room would hold greater meaning once Valeryon acquired the knowledge of potion brewing.
Grabbing a fundamentals book from one of the book shelves, Valeryon settled herself in one of the leather couches beneath the ancient style open window and found herself captivated by a book on the history of potion-making. As she lost herself in its pages, she absentmindedly stroked the silky strands of Laurel's hair. She did not know when he had gotten here as she had not realised him coming into the room at all, but it must have been a while considering how deeply he was sleeping. Laurel had dozed off with his head resting on her lap, his soft snores providing a comforting backdrop that even made herself feel a bit drowsy despite having had an ample amount of sleep.
But then, as Laurel shifted slightly, her attention was drawn to the dark circles under his eyes—a stark contrast against his pale complexion. Worry crept in as she pondered how someone as seemingly well-adjusted as Laurel could be struggling with sleep. She had always viewed his daytime naps as mere preferences for comfort, but now doubt consumed her. What if he was struggling with insomnia?
After thirteen years living together Valeryon thought she knew Laurel relatively well, but Valeryon felt a sudden disconnect. How could she have overlooked such concerning signs? A wave of regret washed over her as she considered how little she truly knew about her only friend. Despite the magical ban that restricted certain topics, there were still countless other subjects they could have discussed without crossing boundaries. As the weight of regret settled heavily on her shoulders and Valeryon was about to spiral into self-blame, a sudden bright glow caught her attention, accompanied by a delicate fluttering sound.
She glanced up to see a shimmering envelope gliding toward her on iridescent wings. It hovered momentarily before the wings dissipated, leaving the envelope gently resting in her hands. Her name—Princess Valeryon II—was emblazoned on it, alongside a glowing red stamp from the Archipelago's Post Office, assuring her that its contents had been tested for safety.
With bated breath, she opened the letter, and a gasp escaped her lips. It was her acceptance letter to the Forester Academy. In that instant, the long-dormant Celestial Receiver on her wrist illuminated with a vibrant blue glow, radiating warmth that coursed through her.
After thirteen long years, the wait was finally over. It was time for the main mission to begin.