SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES

When the first screech sounded for them to go eat, Aramith expected Mozrael to be all good, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

Aris, Elira, Mozarel, and Aramith were sitting at the table. And it didn't tale anyone pointing it out before Aris noticed something was wrong with them.

Elira had already heard something about it from some gossiping classmates, so she had a jist of it.

She just wanted to be alone with Mozrael before asking.

"Is...everything alright?" Aris hesitated before asking.

Elira rolled her eyes at him, and Aramith flinched. Mozrael remained calm.

But no one answered his question.

"Did you two fi—aaah! Aris grabbed his leg. "What's wrong with you?" He asked Elira who'd kicked him under the table.

She only glared at him and signalled for him to keep quiet. He was about to protest, but kept his mouth shut when he saw an unexpected character coming their way.

"Why is she...?"

Elira followed his line of sight and saw her as well. She couldn't hide her confusion either.

Sylvia didn't hesitate. She placed her tray down and sat across from Aramith, her gaze steady, her movements precise, as if she had weighed every step before making it.

"...What do you want?" Aramith asked in a cold tone.

"To speak," she said simply, folding her hands together on the table.

"Then speak somewhere else," Aramith replied without hesitation. "You're not welcome here."

Her eyes flicked toward Mozrael, who didn't spare her a glance. "I see. So you'll let her decide for you? You think you're above everyone else, Mozrael. You carry yourself as if your power is proof you don't need anyone. That you can flaunt it as you please."

Mozrael's fork paused midair for just a moment, but then she continued eating as if Sylvia's words were nothing but air.

Sylvia's lips pressed together tightly. " You should have stayed put when I chose to go with him. I chose to reveal myself to him, but you shouldn't have been there to see anything."

Elira blinked, nearly choking on her food. Revealed?

Aris's eyes widened as his thoughts jumped places they shouldn't.

Sylvia, as if making her point clearer, placed a hand against her chest, brushing lightly across it as though recalling that moment. "I despise that someone else almost saw it."

Aris nearly dropped his spoon, his mind spinning. Elira, red-faced, shoved at her food with unnecessary force.

Sylvia ignored both of them, turning fully back to Aramith. "I came to you because I need strength. You saw what I carry, and I've seen what you carry. I don't show that to anyone, but I showed it to you. That's all I have—and for that, you owe me your help."

Aramith's jaw tightened. "No. I don't owe you anything. I didn't ask to see it. You forced it."

"That's not true," Sylvia countered, her voice firm. "It was my choice, because there was nothing else I could give. Nothing else to prove I was serious."

Aris's spoon clattered against the table. She gave him… that?!

Elira stared at Aramith, her expression unreadable, but her eyes said enough: explain yourself.

Aramith glared at Sylvia. "I said no. And that won't change."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Mozrael placed her utensils neatly on her tray and rose without a word. Elira immediately followed, her glare flashing between Sylvia and Aramith before she hurried after Mozrael.

Aramith stood to go as well, only for Aris to grab his arm.

"Stop," Aris whispered fiercely, leaning close. "I get it. I know what this looks like. Let me handle this before it gets worse."

Aramith frowned at him. "What?"

Aris glanced after Mozrael, then at Sylvia, still seated calmly at the table, then finally at Aramith. His lips pressed into a thin line as if he were forcing himself to swallow something bitter.

"I… didn't think you were the type," Aris muttered.

Aramith narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Aris sighed, letting go of his arm and sitting back down with a heaviness that spoke volumes. Aramith, of all people? I never imagined he'd be a Playboy. Sharing something so private with one girl, while another waits for him?

But then again, Aramith was strong. Talented. Respected. Maybe it was natural. Maybe it wasn't wrong.

If he wants both… then I'll help him sort it out. It's the least I can do.

He folded his hands on the table, adopting a tone of forced calm. "Listen. Don't worry. I've… thought of something. A plan."

Aramith's brows drew tighter. "Plan? What plan?"

Aris leaned closer, lowering his voice so Sylvia wouldn't overhear. "Just trust me. I'll make sure this doesn't get messy for you."

"…You're not making any sense," Aramith said flatly.

Aris smiled faintly, almost reassuringly. "You'll see. Just… leave it to me."

Inside, his mind was already working furiously: Mozrael and Sylvia. If they clash head-on, the stronger one will prove who truly deserves him. The other? Well… she'll just have to settle for being an extra.

He glanced between Sylvia and Aramith again, convinced he was doing the right thing.

Aramith gave him a flat look. "You're acting weird."

Aris smirked, puffing himself up like he'd just solved the academy's greatest mystery. "Weird? No. Smart. Just trust me."

Aris tugged Aramith aside like some self-proclaimed counselor. He wore the expression of a man who had cracked life's greatest mystery.

"Listen, bo—Aramith," he began in a hushed, knowing tone. "Give her space. Girls need that when they're… processing. Trust me on this."

Aramith frowned. "You mean Mozrael?"

"Of course, Mozrael. Don't look so shocked—I've got this figured out. Just… let her breathe. And as for that one—" Aris jerked his thumb toward Sylvia, who was standing not too far away—"don't worry. I'll handle her."

"…Handle her?" Aramith echoed, wary.

Before Aris could elaborate, Sylvia drifted closer, her sharp eyes flicking between them.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I am working on all of this. Tomorrow, it will all be settled," Aris spoke.

Sylvia watched him for a while before nodding. "You're wise to understand," she said simply, as though Aris had just spoken some grand truth.

Aramith's face flattened. "Understand what—"

But Sylvia was already nodding gravely, as if sealing an unspoken pact. Aris smirked proudly, and Aramith was left with the sudden urge to bash his head against the nearest wall.

But he agreed on giving Mozrael some space.

Lunch came, and things only grew worse.

Mozrael and Elira sat deliberately at another table, their backs stiff and their trays angled away from the boys.

Elira, no longer shy of Aramith, glared at him the entire time, eyes narrowed like she was a snake keeping an eye on her prey.

Aramith tried to eat in peace, but every bite felt like swallowing judgment.

"See?" Aris whispered, leaning in. "She's still upset. I told you, space."

Aramith choked on his food. "I know. Tomorrow, I believe she'll be ready to listen."

Across the room, Elira muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Aramith to hear: "Can't believe you're that kind of guy…"

Aramith sat frozen, chewing miserably, his patience unraveling bite by bite.

The day continued with them being separated by an invisible barrier of misunderstandings.

By supper, the atmosphere had congealed into ice.

Mozrael sat quietly, eating as though Aramith didn't exist. Elira sighed dramatically every other minute, her eyes full of righteous disappointment.

Sylvia ate calmly, unbothered, which only made it worse—Elira interpreted her composure as the smug confidence of a love rival. For the first time, she felt the responsibility of keeping Mozrael safe, but she didn't know how exactly to help out.

Aris, meanwhile, sat with the seriousness of a chess master who saw three moves ahead. Yes… the stage is set.

That night, in the girls' dormitory, the tension finally peaked.

Mozrael and Sylvia sat across from one another, and the silence was loud. Their eyes locked in an unspoken clash, neither backing down.

Poor Elira was trapped between them, clutching her blanket to her chest. Her wide eyes darted from one girl to the other. So it's true. Rivals in love. Oh no. Mozrael vs Sylvia… this is bad. This is really bad.

But she was still secretly excited about all this drama.

She pulled her blanket over her head, but kept peeking out every now and then. She felt like she was witnessing history in the making.

In the boys' room, things were no better.

Aris sat on his bed, smirking with the aura of a man who had a master plan carved into stone. Aramith glanced at him, already dreading the answer.

"What are you grinning about?"

Aris folded his arms, satisfied. "Tomorrow… everything will be settled."

Aramith blinked. "If it's about Mozrael, I said I'll deal with things myself."

Aris smiled, holding up a hand like some wise sage. "You'll see."

Aramith didn't know what the boy was thinking, but he felt whatever Aris was planning would end badly. Just like the things he crafted.