The Pursuit Of Catalyst: A Dive Into Another Verse

But...

As Hawk began walking toward the edge of the lawn, his cloak trailing behind him like a black wave, Sylves's relief twisted into confusion.

"Wait… Master Hawk," he called out, walking a few steps forward. "Aren't you going to send us back to the academy?"

Hawk didn't stop walking. He merely turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "Ive sent a letter to your friends...I changed my mind," he said calmly. "You'll stay here from now on. You'll return to the academy only during examination days. Until then, this place is your new home."

Sylves's body stiffened. "What…?" He stepped forward, his voice rising. "You can't decide that on your own. Ashia is waiting. I promised her I'd—"

"You'll attract the Catalysts of Despair again," Hawk cut in, his tone sharp and final. He turned around fully this time, and the pressure in the air thickened. "Still want to go?"

Sylves opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His fists clenched at his sides, the weight of Hawk's words pressing down on him.

The Catalysts... again.

He remembered the lifeless form of Sarah Glens in his arms. The smell of blood. The haunting stillness of her eyes.

Behind him, Elza remained quiet. But then her hand gently reached for his, wrapping around his fingers with a soft squeeze. He turned slightly and saw her eyes—firm, steady, even if tinged with sadness.

"I don't want anyone else to die either," she whispered.

Sylves looked away, swallowing hard. The bitterness of helplessness lingered on his tongue. "You sent a letter, you said?"

"To your friends. And the headmaster," Hawk confirmed. "They will understand. They have to."

There was a long pause. Then Hawk continued in a deeper, more commanding tone, "This is for your own good. You want to protect your loved ones, don't you? Then stop thinking like a child. You're not safe out there. Not yet."

Sylves didn't reply.

"Take a bath," Hawk added, already walking away again. "Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow, we begin again."

As the sound of Hawk's footsteps faded, Sylves stood silently. His shoulders slumped just a little, the adrenaline finally wearing off.

"…I didn't even get to say goodbye," he murmured.

Elza tugged gently at his sleeve. "We'll see them again. For now… let's become strong enough that nothing can ever separate us again."

Sylves nodded slowly, the fire in his chest dimming to a simmer. "Yeah… for them, we will."

Together, they walked back to the cottage beneath the starlit sky—two silhouettes bound by purpose, not just survival.

---

First Year Dormitory – Room 104

Ashia sat quietly on the edge of the chair, her back straight, her hands folded gently in her lap. She wore the delicate clothes her mother had sent a few days prior—an elegant cream blouse stitched with lace and a soft rose-pink skirt that brushed her ankles. Her chestnut hair was tied neatly with a silk ribbon.

On her lap rested another set of clothes—well-folded, carefully pressed. They were the garments Duchess Ylva herself had sent for her son, Sylves Ellesmere.

Ashia glanced toward the door again.

Any moment now, she thought.

She imagined the scene. Her master would knock gently. She would open the door with a smile and hand him the clothes. Perhaps he'd thank her softly. Perhaps he'd let her ask about his day.

Then, the knock came.

Her eyes lit up. Her heart fluttered. She stood, smoothing out the clothes and holding them with delicate care. With a warm smile blooming on her face, she moved toward the door and pulled it open.

Her lips parted to greet him—

But it wasn't Sylves.

A royal guard stood in the hallway instead, clad in navy-blue uniform, holding a letter sealed with an unfamiliar sigil. He extended it silently.

Ashia blinked. Her smile faltered, then faded entirely.

The guard spoke with polite detachment. "A message from Sylves Ellesmere's new instructor."

Ashia took the letter with both hands and bowed slightly. "Thank you… for delivering it."

The door closed.

Ashia stared at the envelope for a moment. Then, with gentle fingers, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Her eyes scanned the neat, firm handwriting:

---

From: Sylves Ellesmere's Instructor

Starting today, Sylves Ellesmere and Elza Glens will be living separately from the rest of the academy students.

They will return only during examination months.

For safety reasons, I have deemed it unwise for them to remain within the general population.

Their presence may attract unwanted forces.

Please do not worry. They are alive, well, and being trained in a safe environment.

I hope you will forgive me for the abrupt change.

— Hawk Frost

---

The clothes slipped from her arms.

They fell soundlessly to the floor, perfectly ironed, untouched—now purposeless.

Ashia stood there, motionless. Her lips trembled, her chest tightened. She slowly turned and walked toward the bed, her legs feeling as if they moved through water. She sat down, gently at first—then curled into herself as silent tears traced lines down her cheeks.

The room was quiet. Unbearably so.

Some moments passed.

No words. No movement.

Then, as if something within her had stirred, she rose again. Her steps took her to the wardrobe—familiar, wooden, creaking slightly. She opened it and retrieved something simple: Sylves's clothes from two days ago, still faintly scented with the herbal oils he used. Unwashed. Familiar.

She turned off the lantern.

In the darkness, she climbed onto the bed, clutching his garments to her chest. Her sobs returned—not loud, but raw. Her face buried in the soft fabric. She breathed in his scent like it was the last air in the world.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered.

"Forgive me… Master… Forgive me…"

Her voice cracked on the last word.

She cried.

And in time, wrapped in memories and cloth, Ashia fell into a fragile, lonely sleep—one hand still gripping the sleeves of the boy she swore to serve.

---

First Year Dormitory – Room 105

Serena sat by the window, brushing her silver-blonde hair when a knock came at the door.

It was Prince Elas, holding an open letter in his hand. His usually laid-back demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

"You got one too?" Serena asked, already sensing the answer.

Elas nodded, walking in without a word. He dropped the letter on her desk and sat on the edge of the bed.

"They're gone. For good measure, it seems," he muttered. "Only returning during exam seasons. That man… Hawk Frost… took them."

Serena leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Void magic attracts monsters, and they send them away instead of protecting them here. How typical."

Elas exhaled deeply. "He's strong, sure… But something about this doesn't sit right with me."

Serena glanced at the room across the hallway. "Ashia must've been waiting all day."

"Yeah," Elas said softly, eyes narrowing. "She didn't deserve this silence."

They both sat quietly, the weight of absence filling the space between them. It was strange—how quickly a presence could become a void.

Cottage Bathhouse – Evening

As Sylves stepped into the warm, gently steaming water, he let out a quiet sigh. The day's training had drained him—physically and mentally. The soft echo of rippling water filled the marble chamber, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment of peace.

Moments later, he heard the door creak open behind him.

"I'll also join you," came Elza's voice, clear and without hesitation.

Sylves turned slightly, offering a faint smile. "Suit yourself."

Elza stepped into the water, gracefully settling opposite him. The shyness of earlier days had gradually faded, replaced now with quiet trust. There was no awkwardness between them, only shared comfort born of exhaustion and unspoken camaraderie.

For a while, neither spoke. The water lapped gently against the sides of the bath. Finally, Sylves broke the silence.

"It's a long time until exam month…" His voice was low, heavy with something he couldn't hide. "Ashia must be sad."

Elza didn't respond right away. She looked at Sylves, at the subtle clench of his jaw, the ripple of worry just beneath his calm surface. She reached forward, her fingers brushing the water between them.

"She's strong," Elza said softly. "But… I think she misses you. Probably more than she'll ever admit."

Sylves nodded, gazing upward at the darkened ceiling, the soft glow of fire crystals illuminating the steam above them.

"I miss her too," he said quietly.

Elza smiled faintly. "Then we'll just have to work hard… so that when we return, we make it worth the wait."

Cottage – After the Bath

The night air was cool against their freshly bathed skin as Sylves and Elza stepped out of the steamy bathhouse, wrapped in black cotton robes provided by Hawk's quarters. Their footsteps echoed softly across the marble floors as they made their way back inside.

Sylves ran a hand through his damp silver hair, his expression neutral—until it suddenly shifted.

He froze mid-step, eyes narrowing slightly as if caught by a memory. He went to where his belongings and cloths were kept beside the bath house and took out his belt, on which was tied a small pouch.

Elza noticed the change. "Is something wrong?"

Sylves didn't answer immediately. He untied the pouch and carefully reached inside. Nestled within the soft cloth was a small, luminescent crystal pearl—smooth, round, and still faintly glowing with a gentle violet hue. The same one Sarah Glens had pressed into his palm with trembling hands before the end. She hadn't spoken a single word about it.

"She gave this to me," Sylves said slowly, holding the pearl up against the cottage's dim candlelight. "Right before… before she died. But she didn't say anything. Not a single word."

Elza stared at the pearl, her breath catching. "That… looks like a Memory Pearl. They're rare—used to store last thoughts or sealed messages. Only certain types of mages can unlock them. Why did she had something this rare?"

Sylves's fingers curled protectively around the pearl. "I didn't feel anything from it all this time. No mana, no pulse. It just felt... still."

"Maybe it's waiting," Elza offered. "Or maybe… it'll respond when you're ready."

Sylves stared at the crystal again, troubled. "She entrusted this to me. I don't know what's inside, or why… but I swear I'll find out."

Elza stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm gently. "Then we'll do it together."

He nodded, eyes never leaving the pearl as its soft glow pulsed once—just faintly—as if stirred by his resolve.

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