CHAPTER 76 — THOSE LEFT BEHIND

Percy and Galahad disappeared at the end of the corridor. Clara was still sitting on the floor. She did not try to stand up.

The blood from her lip reached her chin. A single drop fell upon her skirt. Charlotte came to her side and knelt, but did not immediately reach out her hand.

“Clara.”

Clara’s eyes were fixed on the end of the corridor.

“He's gone.”

Charlotte could not reply. Clara said it once more. As if she would only grasp the meaning of the word by repeating it.

“He's really gone.”

Charlotte finally reached out. She waited for permission before touching Clara’s lip. Clara did not stir.

Green Orin spread over the wound. Her lip sealed in a matter of seconds. The bleeding stopped.

Nothing inside stopped.

Nathaniel picked up his overturned chair. He looked at the food on the table but did not sit down. William capped his pen. Marcus moved to the window.

Arthur, meanwhile, was looking at Leon.

Leon struggled out of the wall into which Percy had hurled him. He brushed the rubble from his shoulder. Clutching his chest, he coughed a few times.

Then he looked in the direction Percy had gone. The corner of his lips curled upward. Arthur began to walk. When Leon saw him, he did not hide his smile.

“What is it, Green?”

Arthur stopped in front of him.

“I thought you'd just walk away.”

“Why would I leave?”

Leon shifted his gaze to Clara.

“Now that the obstacle in our—”

Arthur’s fist slammed into his face.

Leon was sent reeling before he could finish his sentence. His shoulder hit the wall. He managed to keep his balance, but Arthur was already standing before him a second time.

Leon reached for where his wand rested. Arthur’s voice was perilously quiet.

“Draw it.”

Leon froze.

“Draw it so I can carve out a third grave for you in this wall.”

There was no posturing in Arthur’s eyes. He wasn't trying to appear as if taking Clara’s side. He wasn't speaking on Percy's behalf.

He was only looking at Leon.

“You didn't come between them,” Arthur said. “They already had a problem between them.”

Leon’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Then—”

“You saw that problem.”

Arthur took a step closer.

“And you thrust your hand into it and ripped the wound apart.”

Leon’s smile vanished completely. Arthur turned his back.

“Do not approach them again.”

Leon’s voice came from behind him.

“Or what?”

Arthur did not stop.

“I thought you learned that today.”

When Wycliffe stepped to the front of the classroom, he did not close the door. The cracked wall in the corridor was visible. So was Percy’s empty desk. No one was speaking.

Wycliffe looked over the class.

“I will not be teaching today.”

Nathaniel looked up. Normally, he would have been the first to rejoice at that sentence. He did not rejoice.

Wycliffe continued:

“Percy clearly stated what he wanted.”

His gaze swept over the students, one by one.

“You will not go after him.”

“You will not send him messages.”

“You will not ask what happened.”

“You will not force him to return.”

Then he looked at Clara.

“And you will not judge Clara.”

Clara lifted her head for the first time. There was no pity on Wycliffe’s face. Nor was there accusation.

“What happened here is not your entertainment. And it certainly is not a subject for gossip.”

A few whispers drifted from the corridor. Wycliffe glanced toward the door. The voices ceased.

“Two of my students are hurting.”

He turned back to the class.

“One chose to leave.”

A brief silence followed.

“The other has to stay here.”

Clara lowered her eyes once more. Wycliffe leaned against the edge of his desk.

“The absolute best thing you can do today is to not make anything worse.”

Nathaniel nodded silently.

“Understood, Professor.”

Wycliffe looked at him. There was no trace of a joke on Nathaniel’s face.

“Truly understood.”

News spread swiftly through the academy's corridors. Wycliffe’s warning had been enough to silence 1-A. But not the other classes.

When Clara stepped outside, all eyes turned toward her. Charlotte was walking on her right. Marcus on her left. Nathaniel trailed a few paces behind.

Whispers followed them.

“Percy left because of her.”

“With Leon—”

“She didn't tell him for a month.”

“Percy cried.”

Nathaniel stopped. He turned around.

“Enough.”

The whispers did not cease. They merely shrank. Nathaniel did not raise his voice this time.

“We were there.”

The nearby students looked at him. Nathaniel pointed to his chest.

“Even we don't know exactly what happened.”

Clara’s shoulders tensed.

Nathaniel went on:

“Stop talking about something you know nothing about.”

One student averted his gaze. Another pulled his friend by the arm. The corridor slowly emptied. Nathaniel began to walk again. Charlotte cast him a brief glance.

“Thank you,” Clara said.

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Nathaniel didn't look back.

“If Percy were here, he would have done the same.”

Clara’s steps halted for a moment. Nathaniel realized how heavy his words were. He turned his head, but he did not apologize. Because it was true.

When she returned home, Percy's door was open. Clara stopped at the threshold.

The door to this room was almost never left open. If Percy wasn't inside, he kept it shut. If Clara was inside, he left it ajar.

Now it was wide open. Clara stepped inside. At first, she couldn't understand what had changed.

The books were in place. The notes on the desk were neatly stacked. Percy's pens sat in their usual corner.

Then she looked for her own things. Her white hairpin on the desk was gone. The little pillow she had left on the edge of Percy's bed was gone. The bookmark she had placed inside the book they were reading together was gone.

Her spare clothes inside the wardrobe were gone. Percy hadn't thrown any of them away. He hadn't broken them. He had carefully gathered them all. And carried them to Clara's room.

This was worse than anger. When Percy was angry, he acted without thinking. He had done this with intent. Clara took another step inside. There was a single package on the bed.

An ivory fabric peeked from its edge. Clara approached the package. She reached out her hands but didn't dare open it. She recognized the fabric. The dress from the bazaar.

The dress she had seen after trying on nine outfits, the one she had put back upon learning its price. Four thousand eight hundred AWE-dollars. Percy had said he hated the bazaar that day.

Clara had said nothing as she put the dress down. And Percy hadn't asked. Clara opened the package. The dress slid out and cascaded over the bed.

The fine, golden embroidery between the seams caught the light. When she touched it, the fabric was even softer than she remembered. Percy had gone back. In secret. He had bought the dress in a moment when Clara wasn't looking.

“Why?”

The question lingered in the empty room. Her birthday had not yet arrived. Maybe he was going to give it to her on that day. Maybe at the end of the term.

Or perhaps just in a moment when he wanted Clara to look happy again. Now he wouldn't be able to give it. Clara pressed the dress to her chest. She sat on the edge of the bed.

The first tear fell upon the fabric. Then the second.

“Idiot.”

She didn't know if she was saying it to herself. She couldn't have been saying it to Percy. Percy wasn't here. A voice came from the doorway.

“Clara.”

Clara raised her head. Leon was standing at the entrance to the room. For a moment, she couldn't comprehend that what she was seeing was real. Then she stood up.

She gripped the dress with both hands.

“What are you doing here?”

Leon took a step into the room.

“We need to talk.”

The pain on Clara's face retreated. Anger took its place.

“Get out of the house.”

“Listen to me.”

“Get out.”

Leon took another step.

“Percy is gone.”

Clara's fingers crumpled the fabric.

Leon continued:

“I didn't go.”

The temperature in the room plummeted. A white light coalesced around Clara. Leon stopped, but he did not step back.

“You're misunderstanding.”

“Say one more word, and I will rip you to pieces and drag you out.”

Leon raised his hands.

“I only want to be by your side.”

Clara's light intensified.

“Because of you, I—”

Her sentence caught in her throat.

No.

Percy hadn't left because of him. Leon wasn't the origin. Clara was the one who hadn't told him. But Leon had reached inside the wound. And now he was in Percy's room.

Clara's voice trembled.

“How did you get in here?”

Leon didn't answer. That was answer enough. He hadn't asked for permission. He had snuck into Percy's home. Right after Percy left.

Leon approached once more.

“Clara, he said he didn't want you.”

The white light began to shape into a spear.

“I still—”

Leon's voice cut off. The air in the room didn't grow heavy. The walls didn't shake. No pressure manifested. Despite this, Leon's body no longer moved.

He wanted to take a breath. His lungs failed to obey the command. He could only turn his eyes toward the door. Holar Jun stood there. There was no anger visible on his face.

This terrified Leon all the more. Holar stepped inside. With every step, the sound of his shoe striking the floor echoed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Clara's light diminished on its own. The spear lost its form.

“Grandfather…”

Holar didn't look at her. He stopped in front of Leon. There were only a few paces between the old man and the boy. Leon had seen his power before.

He remembered the moment he was hurled into the sea. But that day, Holar had punished him. Today, the one standing before him had not come to deal out a punishment.

Holar spoke.

“I saved this world.”

His voice was not loud. Yet it did not stay confined to the room. It passed through the walls of the house. It reached the street. It rolled over Awakening City.

The Shiris across all three academies vibrated simultaneously. People lifted their heads.

Holar continued:

“I spearheaded the foundation of the city you live in today.”

Leon's eyes widened. The entire city was hearing Holar's voice.

“For two thousand years, I protected it.”

Those walking the streets halted. Classes in the academies were suspended. Conversations in the manors of noble families fell silent.

“I am protecting it still.”

Holar took a step. Leon wanted to back away. His body wouldn't move.

“I am the headmaster.”

The administrators of the three academies stood up.

“I am a Pillar.”

Soldiers on the defense lines turned their faces to the sky. For the first time, something shifted in Holar's gaze. When Leon saw that shift, he began to cry. Holar's voice swept the world.

“BUT TODAY…”

Clara's hands clenched over the dress. Eleanor stopped at the end of the corridor. Far away, Percy lifted his head. Galahad ceased walking. > “I AM MERELY A GRANDFATHER!”

When the words ended, the city forgot how to breathe. Holar raised his hand. Leon tried to shield his face. Holar didn't touch him.

“From this day forth, you are a student at none of the Three Magic Academies.”

Leon's student mark faded. The academy seal on his Shiri vanished.

“Every tie you have with the Noble Academy has been severed.”

The family crest on Leon's chest cracked. The metal piece crumbled to dust before hitting the floor.

“Every privilege your family holds in this city has been revoked.”

In the registry towers of Awakening City, names began to change in unison. Doors shut. Seals extinguished. Clearances were withdrawn.

Leon was finally able to make a sound.

“You can't do this.”

Holar's head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Across the world, people had heard that exact sentence. They also heard Holar's reply.

“I have.”

The last glimmer of hope on Leon's face died.

Holar continued:

“You will never enter Percy's home again.”

The invisible seal on the house's door recognized Leon.

“You will not go near Percy.”

All location and communication links in Leon's Shiri went dark.

“You will not present yourself before Clara.”

Clara looked at Holar for the first time.

“The life you had in this city has come to an end.”

Leon was trembling. Holar hadn't killed him. He had done something far worse. He had slammed shut every open door in Leon's future, one by one. Yet Holar's voice was not done.

“You will get out of here.”

Leon still couldn't move. Holar pointed his finger toward the outside of the house.

“Now.”

Leon's body was abruptly hurled backward. He phased through the door. He cleared the yard. Shrinking into the distance above the street, he vanished from sight.

In the distance, water surged upward. Clara was still holding the dress. Eleanor entered the room. Holar turned to Clara for the first time.

“You.”

Clara flinched.

“Grandfather…”

“Do not address me as such.”

It felt as if a fresh blow had landed across Clara's face. Eleanor immediately stepped forward.

“Holar.”

Holar didn't tear his gaze away from Clara.

“Percy accepted you into his family.”

Tears welled up in Clara's eyes.

“He welcomed you into his home.”

“He shared every piece of his life with you.”

Holar's voice was no longer echoing across the world. These words were solely for Clara.

“And you, with a silence you deemed too insignificant to break, chased him out of his own home.”

Clara bowed her head.

“I know.”

“You do not.”

Holar's reply came instantly.

“Had you known, you would not have waited a month.”

Clara's shoulders slumped. Eleanor wanted to rush to her daughter's side. Holar's gaze shifted to her.

“You, stay.”

Eleanor furrowed her brows.

“You've gone far enough.”

Holar let out a short, mirthless laugh.

“Far enough?”

Eleanor stepped between him and Clara.

“She made a mistake.”

“Percy made them too.”

“You did as well.”

“And so did I.”

Holar's eyes narrowed.

Eleanor continued:

“You cannot weaponize this against her.”

Holar said nothing for a few seconds. Then he looked at Clara once more.

“You resemble your mother.”

The room plunged into silence. Eleanor's expression shifted. The wind was not perceptible at first. Only the curtains in the room stretched out in the same direction. Then all the windows of the house bowed inward.

Clara struggled to breathe. Eleanor's hair rose into the air. Green lines of Orin manifested around her eyes. The second most powerful person in the world was glaring at Holar with all her might.

“Holar.”

Holar did not stir.

“Take it back.”

“Take back which?”

The air around Eleanor detonated.

The walls blew outward into pieces. The roof soared. The trees in the garden were uprooted. The cobblestones along the street vaulted into the air.

Clara wreathed herself in her white light. Eleanor launched forward. The distance between them vanished. The wind gathering in her palm was compressed enough to eradicate a mountain range. A finger's breadth away from reaching Holar's chest...

She stopped. Eleanor's eyes widened. Holar's index finger rested against her palm. There had been no collision. Holar hadn't applied any counterforce.

His aura hadn't unfolded. Not a single wave of Orin had emanated from his Core. Eleanor's attack simply could not advance any further. Eleanor surged her power.

The remaining walls of the house shattered. The clouds in the sky parted. The wind users of Awakening City looked up in unison.

Not a single strand of Holar's hair moved. Clara could feel her mother's power everywhere. In the ground. In the air. In her lungs.

She couldn't feel a single thing from Holar. Nothing at all. This did not mean he was safe. For the first time, Clara wondered why she couldn't sense an entity's power.

Holar pushed his finger forward a few millimeters.

“Repulsion.”

Eleanor did not fly backward. One instant she was in front of Holar. The next instant she was crashing into the earth two hundred meters away. The intervening distance was never traversed.

The world had simply found her somewhere else. Clara's light died. Holar's raised finger lowered. He looked at the ruined house. He drew his wand.

Clara had seen it very rarely before. Its tip touched the floor.

“Reversal.”

Pieces of rubble levitated.

The walls knit back together. Glass shards fused in the air and returned to their frames. Uprooted trees settled back into the earth. The roof descended to its former place.

Two hundred meters away, Eleanor's body moved in reverse. Her wounds closed. The tears in her clothes mended. Finally, she returned to the exact spot where she had stood moments before.

Everything had reverted to normal. Save for what had been said. Eleanor looked at Holar. Her anger was gone. In its place lay a two-thousand-year-old shame.

“I did the very same to you.”

Holar did not reply. A tear fell from Eleanor's eye.

“Didn't I?”

Clara looked at her mother. She couldn't understand what they were discussing. The fury on Holar's face slowly drained away. Beneath it, exhaustion emerged.

“I am sorry,” said Eleanor.

Holar did not approach her. He did not kiss her forehead. He did not embrace her. He merely looked at her.

“It is not that I don't forgive you.”

Eleanor's breath hitched. Holar's voice was little more than a whisper.

“It's that I cannot.”

Right at that moment, Holar's Shiri flashed with a crimson light. Then, every Shiri in the house. It was the global defense alarm. Holar checked the screen. The northern front.

An invasion of millions. Four King Monsters. Eleanor saw it too. The emotion on her face shifted.

“Together we—”

Holar vanished into thin air. Eleanor's sentence was spoken to the void. Clara stared at the ivory dress on the bed. Debates had already broken out across the city. What Holar had done to Leon.

His erasing an entire family from the system with a single sentence. The limits of his authority. The justice of his decree. People were talking. Holar Jun, however, had already reached the northern front.

And a few seconds later, a mandatory broadcast commenced across all screens.

END OF CHAPTER