Chapter 47: Noel Embercrest

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Noel Embercrest

The morning after the dream felt strangely unreal.

Theon stood before the mirror in his room, fastening the silver clasp of his academy mantle. His reflection looked calm. But Inside, he was anything but calm.

The frozen throne. The silver haired man. The two swords. And the voice that had called to him.

Even now, when he focused, he could still remember the pressure of that dream as clearly as a real memory, cold and heavy in his chest like something that had never quite let go.

He had lain awake long after the frost on the glass melted, replaying the frozen throne over and over until the details blurred together. The kneeling figures. The chained sword. The voice that had called him as though it already knew his name better than he did. Sleep had eventually taken him again, but it had been thin and restless, the kind that left him more tired than if he had not slept at all.

A soft knock came from the door. "Master, breakfast is ready."

Lazeria entered carrying a tray. The moment she saw his expression, she paused. "You didn’t sleep well."

Theon gave a faint smile. "Was it that obvious?"

"You’ve been staring at the same button for ten seconds."

He looked down. She was right.

Lazeria set the tray down and hesitated. "Did the sword react again?"

Theon’s eyes flickered toward the storage ring. "Yes."

Lazeria lowered her voice. "That dream, was it bad?"

He thought about the frozen world and the chained sword, the kneeling figures who would never rise. "I’m not sure yet."

That answer seemed to worry her more than a clear one would have.

Before she could ask another question, Lyra burst into the room without knocking. "Good morning!"

She stopped. Looked at Theon. Looked at Lazeria. Looked at the untouched breakfast. Then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why does it feel like I interrupted a secret meeting?"

Lazeria nearly choked.

Theon rubbed his forehead. "It’s six in the morning, Lyra."

"Exactly. The best time for secrets."

Ifrith, perched on the balcony railing, let out a snort. "I’m beginning to understand why the palace was never at peace."

Lyra pointed at him. "And I’m beginning to understand why demons get sealed."

A short while later, the four of them left the Imperial Dormitory. The floating bridges were busier than ever. The moment students noticed Theon, whispers spread again, but unlike yesterday, many of them sounded more curious than hostile.

"That’s him."

"The prince with the sealed result."

"He actually beat Instructor Kaelus."

"Do you think he’s really stronger than the Royal ranked students?"

Theon kept walking, already tired of being treated like a rumor with legs of its own.

Lyra waved cheerfully at everyone they passed. Lazeria stayed close beside him, her shoulder almost brushing his. Ifrith looked far too entertained by the whole thing.

"You know," the demon said, "if you keep ignoring people, they’ll only become more interested."

"Good."

"That is the opposite of how attention works. And also speak the same of yourself you have been avoiding that strange girl haven’t you?"

Cringe Ifrith face tightened in shock that Theon noticed it all

" We must go for lectures right now your highness."

"Is that your excuse for escaping my question"

When they entered the Upper Class building, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The classroom fell silent again. Theon was beginning to suspect this would happen every single time he walked into a room, and the thought exhausted him more than the fights ever had.

He wondered, briefly, if this was what Astrid had felt for years before he ever arrived. The constant weight of being watched, measured, whispered about. It was not a comfortable thought, but it made him understand her a little better than he had before.

He walked to his seat. Lyra sat beside him. Lazeria took the assistant seat near the wall reserved for personal attendants.

The silver haired swordsman Leon gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

The mysterious crimson eyed girl looked up briefly, her gaze shifting to Ifrith once more. The demon met her eyes, and for a heartbeat neither looked away. Then she smiled faintly, not mockingly, but knowingly, before turning back toward the window.

Ifrith’s ears twitched. Interesting.

The classroom door opened, and three figures entered.

The first was a boy about Theon’s age. Black hair. Pale skin. Calm silver eyes. His academy uniform was perfectly arranged, and his expression carried the kind of confidence that never needed to be announced out loud.

Behind him walked the two crimson eyed students from the barrier gate earlier.

The room immediately grew tense. Several students straightened without meaning to. The red haired rival muttered under his breath, "Noel."

So this was Noel Embercrest.

The boy stopped beside Theon’s desk and simply looked at him for a moment, not with arrogance, but with quiet evaluation, the way someone studies a blade before deciding whether it is worth drawing.

Then he spoke. "So this is the rumored Seventh Prince."

His voice was polite. Cold. Dangerous in a way that did not need to raise itself.

There was something unsettling about how still he stood while he spoke, as though every movement he made had already been decided long before he made it.

Theon met his gaze evenly. "Do I know you?"

A faint smile touched Noel’s lips. "You’ll soon know me."

Theon raised an eyebrow. "That sounds less friendly than you think it does."

A few students snorted quietly. Noel seemed amused rather than offended, his silver eyes flicking briefly to Lyra, then lingering on Ifrith a fraction longer than necessary.

Interesting, Theon thought, watching that gaze linger.

Then Noel turned and walked toward the back of the classroom, the two crimson eyed students following him in perfect, practiced silence.

Lyra leaned closer. "I don’t like him."

"Why?"

"He talks like someone planning a funeral."

Ifrith chuckled. "That is surprisingly accurate."

The instructor arrived a few minutes later, and the lesson began. It was a lecture on mana circulation during sword combat, but Theon found it difficult to focus. He could feel Noel’s presence behind him the entire time. Not hostile. Not yet. More like a predator quietly deciding whether another predator was worth the trouble of challenging.

At one point Theon glanced back. Noel was already looking at him. Neither spoke.

The silence between them stretched longer than it should have, and Theon found himself studying the other boy the way he might study an opponent across a battlefield, searching for the tell that would explain the calm radiating off him. He found nothing. That, more than anything, was what unsettled him.

The instructor continued explaining combat theory as though nothing at all was happening between them. But Theon had the strange, settled feeling that the real lesson of the day had not started yet, and somewhere in the back of the classroom, Noel Embercrest smiled very slightly, as though he had reached the exact same conclusion.

The lecture ended with the ringing of a crystal bell. Students began gathering their books, but the tension in the room remained unusually thick. Theon could still feel Noel’s gaze from the back row, measured rather than aggressive, the way someone weighs a decision they have already half made.

Lyra stretched dramatically. "That was so boring."

"You slept through half of it," Theon said.

"I was meditating."

"You were snoring."

Lazeria covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

Ifrith jumped onto Theon’s desk. "The important question is whether your sister can snore with dignity."

"I can do everything with dignity," Lyra declared proudly.

Several nearby students laughed, and for the first time since entering the academy, the tension around Theon eased just a little.

Then chairs scraped against the floor. Noel stood, and the room quieted again. He walked past the rows of desks with the same calm confidence as before, the two crimson eyed students trailing a step behind him.

When he reached Theon, he paused. For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Noel said quietly, "Your swordsmanship yesterday was interesting."

Theon looked up at him. "Interesting?"

"You fought as if you expected to lose."

A few nearby students froze at that. Theon’s expression did not change. "And?"

"And people who expect to lose usually don’t win that quickly."

Theon leaned back slightly in his chair. "Maybe I got lucky."

Noel’s faint smile returned, thin and certain. "I don’t believe in luck."

Before Theon could answer, Noel continued walking and left the classroom, the two crimson eyed students following without a single word between them. The silence he left behind lingered for several long seconds.

Lyra frowned.

This time even Leon, sitting near the window, let out a quiet laugh.

After class, students began heading toward the training grounds. Theon stayed behind a moment to gather his notes, taking his time, still turning Noel’s words over in his mind. When he finally stepped into the corridor, he noticed a familiar figure waiting near the end of the hall.

The mysterious crimson eyed girl. She stood leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the doorway with quiet intensity.

The moment Noel appeared from the opposite corridor, she straightened.

"You’re going to challenge him, aren’t you?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but there was real concern threaded beneath it.

Noel stopped. "Eventually."

"That’s a mistake."

He tilted his head slightly. "You sound unusually serious."

The girl looked toward the classroom where Theon still stood, half hidden by the doorway. "If you fight him, prepare to die."

The corridor fell silent as several passing students slowed their steps, sensing the tension gathering between the two of them.

Noel studied her face for a long moment, then laughed softly. Not mockingly. Genuinely amused. "You really think he’s that strong?"

She met his gaze without hesitation. "What do you mean?"

Noel’s silver eyes narrowed slightly. "If I fight him seriously, he won’t even be able to stand."

The words carried no arrogance at all, which somehow made them far more unsettling than if they had. Theon, still lingering by the doorway where neither of them could see him clearly, felt the weight of that sentence settle over him like a hand pressing flat against his chest.

The girl stared at him for a few seconds, then shook her head slowly. "You’re underestimating the wrong person."

Noel’s smile faded. "And you’re overestimating him."

For once, a faint flicker of irritation crossed her face. "You haven’t seen what I have seen"

Noel’s expression sharpened, curiosity breaking through his composure. "What did you see?"

The girl glanced toward Theon again, then back at Noel. "That’s exactly the problem."

She turned and walked away before he could press her further, disappearing into the crowd without looking back.

Noel remained standing in the corridor for a long moment, watching the space where she had been. The two crimson eyed students exchanged a brief glance but said nothing.

After a while, Noel looked toward the classroom doorway. His eyes met Theon’s, and neither of them looked away. Then Noel turned and left, and the corridor slowly returned to its ordinary rhythm.

Lyra appeared beside Theon. "So, should I be worried?"

"About what?"

"The creepy fool who wants to fight you."

Theon watched Noel disappear down the stairway. "He doesn’t want to fight me yet."

"That was definitely the yet voice."

Theon could not deny it.

Lazeria stepped closer, her expression thoughtful. "The girl seemed afraid."

"Yes."

"Of Noel?"

Theon was quiet for a moment, thinking back to the way her eyes had held Noel’s without flinching. Then he looked toward the distant windows, where clouds drifted slowly around the floating academy.

"No," he said quietly. "She was afraid of what would happen if we actually fought."

Ifrith’s crimson eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and something unspoken passed through the small group in that moment, quiet and heavy. None of them said anything more about it, but Theon noticed the way Lazeria’s hand tightened slightly at her side, and the way even Lyra’s usual grin had faded into something more careful.

Theon did not see it, but for the rest of the walk toward the training grounds, he could not shake the feeling that something up there had heard exactly what needed to be heard.