Ezra wandered across the academy rooftop, boots crunching softly against the gravel as the chill of night brushed against his face.
The school grounds stretched below him—stone towers, lit courtyards, shimmering practice fields—all tucked neatly between the forested outskirts of the Inner District.
Beyond the walls, the city of Arkanis sprawled outward in pulsing lights and steel veins. Far off, Nexus HQ loomed like a silent sentinel, its needle-like towers piercing the sky.
He exhaled, letting the silence settle.
Then—
A sound.
Faint at first. A thread of melody, carried by the breeze. Gentle. Unnatural. It snuck beneath his skin, a whisper that bypassed thought and settled somewhere deeper.
Ezra turned.
The sound grew clearer, pulling him forward. It wasn't just music. It was calling to him.
Without thinking, he descended, gripping the edge of the rooftop and sliding down the wall with practiced ease. His boots hit the stone walkway below, body moving like it belonged to someone else. He followed the sound to an open window, where the melody poured out like mist.
He peered inside—and froze.
Rui sat on the floor in a pool of silk and moonlight.
Her robes were ivory and crimson, flowing around her like blood on snow. Dark hair fell down her back in long, smooth strands. In her lap rested a guqin—long and polished, its lacquered frame carved with swirling gold inlays. Her fingers danced across its strings with impossible grace.
Ezra's breath caught.
She hadn't seen him. Her expression was serene, eyes closed, body still as the song wrapped around her like a second skin.
And then—
She began to sing.
The words meant nothing to him. They didn't belong to any language spoken in Arkanis, or anywhere he had ever heard. Ancient. Primal. Heavy with meaning too vast for understanding. The sound wasn't loud, but it filled the space like a tide, sinking into the stone itself.
Words drifted like mist, soft at the edges, with every syllable flowing into the next like ink across parchment.
Her voice curved through the notes in gentle waves, the rhythm unhurried yet precise. It wasn't sharp or forceful—it lingered. Hung in the air like steam. There was something aching in the way she sang, like mourning laced in reverence, or the memory of a story never meant to be told.
Some verses she sang low, her tone dipping like shadows in still water. Other lines floated higher—clear, bright, almost luminescent. There was beauty in the contrast: gentle yet commanding, fragile yet unshakable. And even without understanding a word, Ezra felt the meaning—felt it echo through something older than language.
Her voice unfurled like silk, smooth and deliberate—each word a thread pulled from something older than time. Though Ezra didn't understand the language, the sound of it settled into his bones.
Ezra's thoughts slowed.
His limbs felt heavier.
The world narrowed to Rui and her song.
She wasn't just performing.
She was weaving.
Each note unraveled something in him, untied threads of logic and sense. Her voice was a lullaby to forgotten gods, a hymn for lost stars. The kind of sound that wasn't meant to be heard—it was meant to be obeyed.
Ezra swayed forward, hand brushing the windowsill, eyes glazed. Something inside him responded, as if pulled by ancient memory. A dream? A warning?
Then—
Pain.
A sharp sting bloomed in his finger. A splinter.
It was enough.
His mind snapped back. The song faltered for a heartbeat—no, it didn't. He had just stopped hearing it the same way.
His breath hitched.
She hadn't noticed him. Rui remained seated, adjusting the strings, her expression calm and detached.
Ezra stumbled back from the window, pulse roaring in his ears.
'What the hell was that?'
His hands trembled as he forced himself to retreat, leaping back up onto the rooftop.
The cold wind slapped against his skin like a reprimand, clearing the haze.
He clenched his jaw, pressing his palms against his ears.
Even now, the song whispered at the edge of his thoughts, persistent and patient.