With the lord's conversation still fresh on their minds, they follow the ring-bearing old man.

Wilphrey leads the pair to a dusty meeting room that looks as if no one has used it for ages. Cilas must not upkeep this room, perhaps since it is so unused? Apart from the smidge of sketchiness, it's a nice area for a class.

A rectangular table sits in the room's center, stacked chairs line the outskirts. While the two boys take their chairs, the old man wipes down a drawing board in the front. Korlin obtains the seat closest to the window, the glass is brimming with sheen on the outside, not as much inside.

Clearing his throat, Wilphrey begins his class on reading and writing.

"To start, would you mind writing your names in your own language?"

With the blank sheets in front of them, the two write down their names as told. Upon witnessing their penmanship, Wilphrey is immediately intrigued.

"Fascinating... you two truly derive from a strange land. Do you always write in such a way? Horizontally?"

"Huh?" Korlin was expecting a different response. "Yeah, is that not how it works here?"

Wilphrey proceeds to explain the basic structure in which to write. Left to right in a down-sloped fashion. Important information such as names and dates reside in the top right of a page. The main body of a document starts from the top left corner and goes until the bottom right unless a sentence is broken off beforehand. It repeats this process again slightly below the first line and continues down until no more page remains.

Korlin attempts this way of writing.

[I K

L o

o r

a v l

n e i

d M n

C a

a g

t i

s c ]

"That's it, right?"

"I believe so," Wilphrey then confirms if that is the boy's name in the top right. "All looks well, apart from the absence of date."

"How do you do that?"

The man explains the way dating a document works. It is fairly simple and corresponds with systems on Earth.

Day > Month > Year

Written diagonally of course.

"What is the date today?"

"Today is the seventeenth of Oakul, year six hundred seventy-four of the Aru era."

17/7/674

"What happened all those years ago?!"

"Ah," Wilphrey groans. "Perhaps I shall ask Cilas to give you history lessons, he is much more knowledgeable than I."

"Hmm, I doubt that, but alright."

Korlin wants more lore, and he wants it now. Without the slightest sliver of shame. It's almost admirable... almost.

Putting basic structure behind, it is easy enough to understand, Wilphrey continues conducting the class moving into basic characters. On the drawing board he writes down the entire syllabary of Lunalir's most spoken language. It consists of twenty-nine letters consisting of seventeen consonants and twelve vowels. The letters themselves are suited to be written diagonally and mesh well with each other, and when written correctly look like pictures.

Without a basis of where to begin, Wilphrey asks Sirius to write down his own alphabet on the board. Korlin shares the same alphabet, so it doesn't complicate anything further. Going through each letter and sounding them out, slight connections are made between the two written languages, but not many.

"This is tricky, especially since you both can speak just fine. But you said you're not actually speaking your language now, yes?"

"Right."

"Hmm..."

Class drags on and as it does, Sirius feels lost in all the information being dumped upon him. Rawlin's offer plagues his thoughts. What should I do?

"Are you understanding any of this?" he whispers to Korlin.

"Of course, are you not?"

Sirius doesn't respond. His thoughts are racked with questions. Do I want to keep my memories? I should, shouldn't I? Why am I so unsure?

Wilphrey hands the pair another sheet and asks them to write the sentence:

Greetings, my name is ________

He asks them to write their names as they are used to for now, as name spelling is apparently more convoluted.

Korlin, within seconds, already has written down a full sentence diagonally and all.

"This is correct!" Korlin shouts before WIlphrey can even glance over. He holds the utmost confidence in his answer.

The old man steps over and picks up the boy's paper.

"Indeed, it is," he is pleasantly surprised. "Well done. How about you, Sirius?" When the man bends to pick up the page, nothing is written.

"Sorry, I'm having a hard time understanding is all. Would you mind explaining it again?"

"Certainly."

In truth, he wasn't paying attention. Putting aside the lord's offer, another looming threat hangs over him. The interior of the room may be different, but the fact remains... this resembles school.

Wilphrey's lesson continues. Sirius sits in his chair trying to pay attention, but he bears no fruit. The man is saying something... but what? Korlin is jotting down everything he can fit onto his page. He's even practicing writing diagonally already; his adaptability is commendable.

Nothing is written in front of Sirius.

It's not tiredness, in fact, he slept great last night. It isn't Wilphrey's lack of teaching ability, the man is engaging and thoughtful. His teachings are well-spoken and easy to comprehend, even for something as broad as a language. He answers all of Korlin's question with care.

"This is right, right?" Korlin asks eagerly.

"Correct again, you learn quickly."

Scrambling, Sirius writes the little he's picked up so far. Simply hearing Korlin obtain praise makes him feel invalidated. Especially considering how Korlin hasn't attended a class in years.

"Is... this, correct?" Hesitancy so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Mm, not quite... perhaps we're moving too quickly?" Wilphrey has a look in his eyes that disgusts Sirius.

-Is this pity?

"No, that's quite alright, I was just spacing off. I apologize," Sirius' response is so formal it makes Korlin turn over in confusion.

"Alright then, let me know if you want me to slow down."

Wilphrey advances the class with stunning proficiency. Despite his teaching skills, the man can't keep hold of Sirius' attention.

Korlin understands all of it so quickly. Giving Sirius a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Envy, perhaps?

A blank stare drives itself into the teacher. The miniature claw in Sirius' hand trembles in his fingertips. This familiar feeling...

Chair. Table. Paper. Teacher. Another student.

School.

It all hits far too close to home. The home he hates.

Besides the lack of a ticking clock, it's almost like he's never left. Caught up in the same old routine again.

Wilprhey's voice muffles into a gradual static. A static so loud it starts to ring.

It's unbearable.

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

"Sir Sirius?"

Cilas speaks, since when is he here? Wilphrey is gone, only doodles sleep on the page from his class.

"Huh-? Oh, sorry can you repeat that?"

"Certainly," the man clears his throat. "Lunalir, the kingdom of the moon, resides on the southern end of the Klephoral continent. Neighboring Alsi to the north and Mauvkin to the south, Lunalir is home to the native flower moonlids and the second largest trade hub in the world, Auretta."

"That's where we were!" Korlin punches Sirius on the shoulder.

"Ahem," Cilas silences the hyperactive boy. Korlin teleports back into his chair with a claw at the ready. "Auretta, named after the first lumalin with wings, is-"

"WOAH NOW!" Korlin interrupts the class quite loudly.

"Y-yes sir?"

"What's the story with that?!?"

"With all due respect, this is a history lesson, not a folklore one..."

"You had me at lore."

Cilas sighs, slightly irritated but with a brief smirk.

"It is told the lumalins grew wings because their ancestors tried to return to the moon. They bargained with the Goddess of Potency and obtained full wings of their own to try."

"Full wings? Like big ones and not the stubby ones?"

"Stub- er, yes. But, after the ancient lumalins grew unkind to the goddess, she shortened them so they could no longer fly. Their ascent to the moon was hindered, leaving the airborne ones to fall to an untimely demise... Now, the wings are passed down as a reminder for their race to be kind. Hence dubbing Auretta the 'City of False Angels'."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Woah... wait, so Auretta is named after the first one with wings, right?"

"Correct."

"Is Auretta the one who bargained for the wings?"

"Mm."

"Were they unkind to this goddess?"

"That much is unknown. Regardless, it is no more than a bedtime story to get children to be kind."

"Awesome..." Korlin writes it all in the journal he received from Sirius. "Isn't it Sirius?!"

"Oh, yeah..."

Sirius hadn't been paying full attention, but the tale does now have a spot in his memory. It was interesting. So much more interesting than anything he has learned in a class before. So why...

-Why do I hate this?

The day closes and moonlight veils the purple sky.

Sirius lays on his lavish bed, gripping his amputated hoodie. He contemplates whether or not to leave his room and search for Aureole, he hasn't seen her since morning. But decides against the notion as to not come off as creepy or overbearing.

-Would she even want to see me?

There is no ceiling fan to watch spin. Only the sprawling ceiling high above. Which he stares at with no particular thoughts.

Thus passes a sleepless night.

⧗⧖⧗⧖⧗

The next day is almost identical to the one before. Apart from meeting with Pholy and Hyacinth in the morning, it's like a routine as already begun.

Breakfast. Chores. Classes.

Wilphrey for the earlier hours teaches the two writing and reading. Korlin is very upset that it is not magic. The latter half of the "school" day consists of Cilas' history lessons. They cover basic Lunalir history and other major historic events.

Sirius can't bring himself to listen to the lessons. Korlin is diligent and asks hundreds of questions per course. All their talk is drowned out by numbing static.

The day passes slothfully, without a clock the only way to tell time during class is the sun outside. He can't even watch that go by; it stings too much.

He conceals his inability to pay attention with a forceful smile and silence. Masking his hatred and disgust behind curled lips.

Apart from the two old men and everyone in the morning, the hours are filled with loneliness. Korlin studies in his room adamantly trying to learn everything he can. Sirius sits alone in his room... staring at the ceiling.

~~~

Blinding white lights sweep his squinted vision.

The soft beeping of monitors and machines makes up a quiet ambiance.

Something is wrong.

He can't move.

His eyes dart around the hospital room, casts and tubes tangle themselves around his broken body.

Beside his bed is a face he never thought he'd see again.

Canopus stands above him, looking down at him with unrelenting pity.

His brother leans down close to his face and whispers a haunting echo.

"It's always about you. What makes you so special? You're always in your own world, never paying attention to anyone else. You always have that stupid look on your face like you have something to be sad about."

All at once, it's as if the words themselves implode his chest.

A crippling pain tears through his body. He needs to move but can't. He needs to scream but can't. He needs to breathe but can't. All he can do is feel the onrush of agonizing suffocation.

The pain is nothing less than being hit by the truck. But in this case, he won't black out. It hurts and hurts and hurts until... he wakes up.

A violent scream exudes from his throat, tearing apart the still silence of the night. In a tireless sweat, he gasps for breaths that aren't there. He coughs ferociously, trapped mucus expels from his sore throat.

Bloodshot eyes finally relax when air enters the functioning lungs. A few more deep breaths and he swings his feet out of the sweaty bed. He paces the room again and again, holding his shirtless chest to make sure his heart still beats.

-What's wrong with me?

Amidst his degradation, the door to his room flies open.

"Are you alright?!"

Korlin shuffles inside in a drowsy panic.

"Mm, I'm fine."

"I heard a scream. A very loud one."

"I just had a nightmare, that's all. Just go back to sleep."

Korlin groans but doesn't exit, instead, he waddles in and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Come here," he tiredly waves.

Annoyed, Sirius follows his instruction. "What?"

"Are you alright? Like, really alright?"

"I'm fine. I told you it was just a nightmare."

"That's not what I meant. Yesterday and today, you seemed kind of... slogged. Is something weighing on you?"

"Is that how it looked?"

"Mm."

-And here I thought I was acting well enough...

"I'm alright, really."

"..." He doesn't believe it for a moment. Sirius prays he doesn't push further. "I've been meaning to ask... what was your life like before this?"

The question hits him like a second truck. A tickling fear creeps over him.

-I can't tell him... I can't tell him how I was. How I am...

"That's none of your business."

He decides to be blunt; a little rudeness can't hurt. Sirius despises his life on Earth, he doesn't even want to think about it. Let alone tell anyone of it.

"Oh... alright," he seems hurt, rejected. "I'll take my leave then." The boy shuffles back towards the door and mutters a goodbye.

...

-I let myself poke through. I got too comfortable. I wasn't hiding it enough. I'll have to try a little more...

⧗⧖⧗⧖⧗

Smile.

Sirius, in his amputated hoodie, strides down the stairs with all the pep in the world under his steps. Strolling into the kitchen, an energetic "good morning" drubs the eardrums of everyone at the island. Almost all the house members are already gathered for breakfast.

Rawlin bears his usual enigmatic expression. Aureole and Pholy glance at each other in confusion, their heads down in tempting slumber.

"Someone's in a good mood," Korlin says in his typically upbeat manner.

Sirius plasters on the brightest smile he can and takes a seat beside Aureole. She squints her eyes, both reading him and just trying to stay awake. "Hm..."

"What's up?"

"You seem awfully cheerful. I thought you weren't a morning person."

"Ah, I just slept great last night," his grin doesn't falter.

"Your eyes are pretty baggy though..."

"That's just how they are, can't do much about it." Sirius shrugs in an exaggerated manner.

Korlin's eyes are locked on Sirius, watching his every move.

"Here you are," Cilas sets down a ceramic plate in front of Sirius.

"Thank you, it looks wonderful."

His overly kind remark catches the cook off-guard. "Don't mention it..." Cilas passes out the remaining meals to all present house members. Idle chitchat between bites passes the time quickly. Sirius continues being overly positive, making everyone in the room slightly uncomfortable.

With breakfast over, the day begins.

Wilphrey conducts another class, the lessons have been moving quickly. Already, the two boys are learning how to properly punctuate. Commas and exclamation marks have no role in this language, only periods and questions marks persist. Although, periods take the form of a tiny spiral, placed evenly between the end and beginning of a new sentence.

S

t

o

p

࿔

G

o

Question marks follow similar principles, shape-wise they are simply inverted sideways to match with the sloped direction of writing. Also, there is no dot at the bottom of them. Interesting, no᠀

The punctuation is easy enough to understand and practice. The struggle comes from proper spelling and the memorization of each character.

Sirius sits upright with perfect posture. His eyes glue themselves onto his teacher, his ears open just wide enough to listen to him. The facade of him actively listening comes crashing down in an instant.

"Sirius, you seem to be keenly paying attention."

"Of course."

"Well then, would you mind writing down this sentence for me?"

"Certainly."

"...Ahem," he paces a moment before staring out the window into the sunny, clear sky. "The sky is cloudy today."

Sirius takes up his inkclaw and presses it down onto his page.

"Please use proper punctuation and structure."

He finishes writing down his best attempt and hands it over to Wilphrey. The teacher reads the print and ushers over a faint frown. "Your punctuation is correct, but the spelling is completely wrong. You can do better than this."

sting

Sirius laughs like he's heard a hilarious joke.

"Ah, my bad, my bad, guess I wasn't paying enough attention. I apologize. You have my full requited attention!" He brushes his failure off with a smile.

"..."

Korlin stalks Sirius. His honey eyes targeting that sinful smile.

Class ends and he awaits his next one. Searching for someone, Sirius steps out into the garden.

A shorter-than-average girl with long golden hair holds massive scissors. She precisely trims the edges of nearby bushes; her fiery pink eyes train themselves on her craft. The entire garden is flawlessly sculpted by Pholy's hand, even the slightest miscalculation would throw off the entire balance of perfection.

Carefully...quietly...and...

"Hey! What are you up to?!"

snip

The sharp blades cut through the corner chunk of a bush, ruining the pure perfection. Without moving a single particle, steam plumes out of the little girl's head.

"Sorry did I-"

"YES, YOU DID! ARE YOU BLIND?!?"

The over-sized clippers catch onto a pink blaze. "I'm very sorry! Please forgive me!" Sirius gets onto his knees and pleads for his life. "I didn't realize what I was doing," his tone is one of true regret and sincerity. "I apologize for my foolish actions. Would you find it in your heart to humbly forgive my transgressions?"

Stunned, also slightly disgusted by his sincerity, Pholy's flames go out.

"Uh... sure..." she refuses to look at him. "Just get out of here already."

sting

"Of course."

Cilas' class goes down a similar route to Wilphrey's. A willful stare penetrates Cilas' defenses. Behind Sirius' mask is nothing but the sound of static.

Evening hours descend upon the mansion.

Sirius sets out into the halls with his journal in hand. Jotting down remnants of class learnings and other random snippets of things he's picked up; he scans for anyone around.

Turning the corner, he bumps into a figure with deep purple hair. Her long sleeves are wrapped around a heavy book; she stumbles backwards.

"Sorry!" his face morphs into one of regret.

"Mm..." Looking up at him, a dash of confusion enters her expression.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to," he bows respectively.

"...Okay?"

sting

She continues walking without a word.

"I'll see you around!"

"...Question."

"Ask away!"

"What is that?" Her head tilts back, amethyst eyes glancing at the book in his palms.

"Oh, this? Nothing special. Just a little journal I keep for myself." He offers her a beaming smile.

"Hm... okay."

She continues down the hall without another sound.

Night falls. He stares at the ceiling, static filling his soundscape.

Flashes of himself at school barge into his mind. Flashes of his pretend friends. Flashes of his old bedroom's ceiling.

He can't sleep, just like the night before. And the one before that.

These memories that flood him beg the question once more. Do I want to keep my memories? These flashes of school are so unpleasant, why would I want to? Despite his hatred for the past, he acts exactly as he did while in it.

Hopping down from his bed, he slides on his slippers and enters the hall. With no real goal, he wanders the moonlit corridors.

A slight part of him in the back of his mind wishes to stumble upon Aureole. Their last nighttime meeting was blissful to say the least. Do I want more of that? No... come on, don't be crazy. You don't deserve that.

Despite the qualms with himself, his subtle wish is granted.

Veiled in holy moonlight, the girl with teal hair comes into view. Eyes with the appearance of the moon catch his own dull eyes.

"Sirius... what are you doing?" She comes off as concerned, almost... worried about him.

"Ah, I'm just soaking in the night. I'm not quite tired yet!" His energy disturbs the somber silence under the moon.

"A-alright... anyways, how are you doing? We haven't got many chances to speak recently."

"I'm doing quite fine, thank you. How are you doing?"

"I'm... alright, Sirius, are you sure you're alright? You seem a little... different today."

"Different? You think so? Hmm...." he taps his chin repeatedly. "Maybe because I've finally settled down into life here! Yes, that must be it. I'm all cozy now."

"...That so? You know, you can tell me if something is wrong. I'm more than happy to listen." She smiles warm and gently, a genuine smile. A saddened look glistens in her eyes.

"...Thank you for the offer, but really, I'm all good! Besides, I wouldn't want to bother you with my drivel."

"It really wouldn't bother me... You opened up before back in the capitol, I don't want you to think that was only a one time-"

"Ahh, forget about that, I was just being a baby. I wasn't being myself. I don't know what I was thinking." He tries to chuckle it off. "I was just being stupid."

"...You weren't being yourself, huh?"

"Of course not, I shouldn't cry like that in front of someone."

"So, is this who you really are?" A straining look applies itself onto her. The air grows sour and cold.

"...Uhm... Yes?" He lifts his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. Confidence doesn't exude itself.

She glares at him as if disappointed. Slowly, her features soften, and she exhales. "I see... well, you're very different than I thought." A poor attempt at a grin emerges.

"..."

"..."

"Oh!" He quickly reaches for his pockets and pulls out his magical wallet. "I should return the money- or, nem you left me earlier! Here!" He empties out the bag of gems, pouring all of them into his palm.

"No, that's alright... you keep it."

"What?! No way! I'm sorry it's not all of it, after I fixed up my arm, I was being stupid and spent some more-"

"It's okay, Sirius. You don't need to get so worked up."

"Worked up? What do you mean? I just need to give you-"

"Look, I don't need it back. I'm practically royalty, after all. I gave it to you for your own discretion, I didn't expect you to refund me."

"Are you sure? I can't have you dislike me-"

"Goodnight, Sirius."

She cuts him off a final time. His rambling grew deaf in her ears. Who is this person standing in front of her? It isn't the Sirius she knows.

Sirius stands motionless, voiceless. Aureole walks past him, her scent brushing across his nose.

"...Goodnight."

⧗⧖⧗⧖⧗

He scowls in the mirror. Veins bulge on his forehead and his are eyes red with unrest. The light from his irises is scratched out and replaced with dull ambers. Anger fills his head and drowns out all other thoughts.

"What are you doing..."

He sounds pathetic. The stopwatch rests atop the bathroom counter, continuing its endless march.

tick tick

Umber hair hangs down in front of his vision. He drives his hands through the nest. A forced smirk creeps up and escapes.

He stares at his smile, analyzing it. Toothless and straight like always. Mindless. Disgusting.

tick tick

It feels like his eyes could spill out of their sockets. Looking at his self pisses him off.

...

-Why do you look like that? Look happy. You have nothing to be sad about.

tick tick

He picks up a nearby inkclaw lying on top of his journal and holds it to the mirror. Using the bottom-end, he carves a smiley face into the glass.

Two tiny dots resembling eyes and a curved line for the smile.

He aligns his baggy eyes and chapped lips to the image in the mirror. And gives himself a happy grin.

...

tick tick ticK tiCK tICK TICK TICK

The skull-driving sound pounds in his eardrums like a drum. It plays its haunting rhythm, mocking him.

Memories begin to flood over his negative thoughts.

Memories of himself in his old life. Times when he got too comfortable with people. Old friends from old schools, his brother in distant years, eighth grade...

Times when he pretended to be happy, pretended to be the perfect boy everyone thinks he is, when he was who he should be.

All unpleasant.

All mistakes.

-Stop it. Why are you thinking about this? Why...

Recent memories. Attacking a wild bat, crying in front of her, coming to this house, acting so casual...

-Having fun... taking risks... enjoying yourself...? What are you doing? Don't... you shouldn't...

"Don't be yourself."

"Smile."

22466141 seconds remain.