The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the Rozzlax Academy grounds. The duel had left the air charged with energy, and the whispers of students followed Ivan as he made his way through the courtyard. His body ached from the fight, his muscles protesting with every step, but his mind was sharp, buzzing with the adrenaline of victory and the weight of what it meant.

Fent was waiting for him at the edge of the training grounds, leaning against a wrought-iron fence with his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable at first, but as Ivan approached, a grin broke across his face. “You looked good out there,” Fent said, pushing off the fence and falling into step beside Ivan. “Lorcan’s face when you pinned him? Priceless.”

Ivan chuckled, though it came out more as a tired exhale. “He’s not going to let this go. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Fent replied, his tone light but his eyes serious. “But for now, you’ve got bragging rights. And honestly? I think you just earned yourself a lot of respect. Even from people who didn’t want to give it to you.”

Ivan nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The duel had been a victory, but it had also been a reminder of how much was at stake. Lorcan’s arrogance, the way he wielded his power without a second thought—it was a reflection of everything Ivan hated about Aether. And yet, Ivan had used that same power to win. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

The two friends walked in silence for a while, the sounds of the academy fading behind them as they made their way toward the outskirts of the campus. The path was lined with fig trees, their sprawling roots breaking through the cobblestones, a reminder of the Figsty district just beyond the academy’s walls. Ivan had always found the trees comforting, their presence a quiet defiance against the rigid order of Aether.

“You’re quiet,” Fent said after a while, breaking the silence. “Thinking about the fight?”

“Not just the fight,” Ivan admitted. “Everything. The duel, the academy, Aether… it’s all connected. And I don’t know how much longer I can just play along.”

Fent glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. “You’re not just playing along, Ivan. You’re surviving. And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to do.”

Ivan shook his head. “Surviving isn’t enough. Not for me. I want to change things. I want to make this place better. But I don’t know how.”

Fent was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Then he said, “You know, my grandfather used to say that change starts small. It’s not about overthrowing the system overnight. It’s about finding the cracks and widening them, bit by bit.”

Ivan looked at him, surprised. “Your grandfather said that?”

Fent nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. He was a dreamer, just like you. He believed in the power of science and magic to make the world better. But he also knew that real change takes time. And patience.”

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Ivan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if I have that kind of patience.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Fent said, his voice firm. “You’ve got me. And there are others who feel the same way. We just have to find them.”

The two friends reached a small clearing, the fig trees giving way to a view of the city beyond. The spires of Aether’s inner district gleamed in the distance, their polished surfaces reflecting the fading sunlight. It was a beautiful sight, but it was also a reminder of the divide that separated them from the people they wanted to help.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like to have a Voluran staff?” Ivan asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

Fent raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Who doesn’t? It’s the ultimate symbol of power in Aether. With a staff, you’re not just a citizen—you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Ivan nodded. “Exactly. But it’s not just about power. It’s about freedom. With a staff, we could do more than just survive. We could actually make a difference.”

Fent’s expression softened. “You’re thinking about the resistance, aren’t you?”

Ivan hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I know it’s risky, but… if we could get our hands on a couple of staffs, we could help them. We could give them a fighting chance.”

Fent was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. Then he said, “You know, my grandfather used to say that power is just a tool. It’s not good or evil—it’s what you do with it that matters. If we could use a Voluran staff to help people, to fight for what’s right… then maybe it’s worth the risk.”

Ivan looked at him, a spark of hope igniting in his chest. “You really think so?”

Fent grinned. “I do. But we’re going to need a plan. A good one. And we’re going to need to be careful. Aether doesn’t take kindly to people who step out of line.”

Ivan nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

The two friends stood in silence for a while, the weight of their conversation settling over them. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in shades of orange and purple. It was a beautiful sight, but it was also a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

“You know,” Fent said after a while, his voice soft, “I used to think that dreams were just that—dreams. Something to keep you going when things got tough. But now… I think they’re more than that. I think they’re a map. A way to find the path forward.”

Ivan smiled, a rare, genuine smile. “I like that. A map.”

Fent clapped him on the shoulder, his grin returning. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re gone.”

The two friends turned and walked back toward the academy, their steps lighter than before. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Ivan felt like he had a direction. And with Fent by his side, he knew they could face whatever came next.