Lament for My First Life

The Eyes That Watch

The soft rustle of turning pages filled the classroom. The smell of ink and parchment hung gently in the air as sunlight poured through the tall windows, glinting off the silver trim of the desks. The students of the Royal Academy sat in perfect rows, quills scratching faintly against paper as the professor lectured in his calm, melodic voice.

At the front, Xylenne sat upright at her desk, her pale hair glowing faintly in the light. Her quill moved swiftly, her handwriting neat and elegant, far beyond her years.

Every word the professor spoke, every equation, every rune, every sentence, she already understood. The book they were studying from was one she had already read in her grandfather's library back at the Winter estate. She remembered its chapters clearly, down to the notes scribbled by some scholar in the margins.

This is too easy, she thought, smiling faintly as her quill danced across the paper. I already know this part. Her small smile lingered, a rare and subtle mark of confidence. For the first time in this life, she wasn't helpless. In my previous life, I'd already been adopted by Lady Varra by this point... she thought as she wrote, her handwriting smooth and sure. But now, I've postponed my fate, at least two more days. I can still change everything.

The thought filled her with quiet triumph. A spark of victory, small but radiant, bloomed in her chest. She had never felt this kind of satisfaction before. She sat straighter, quill moving faster. I'll live this life right. I won't die the same way again.

From a few seats behind her, a pair of crimson eyes watched. A boy, small, quiet, his black hair messy and uncombed, his red eyes sharp like shards of garnet. He leaned slightly forward, chin resting on his hand, studying her with quiet curiosity. Why is she smiling? he thought. She's... in the middle of class.

His eyes lingered on the way her white hair shimmered in the light, like snow under sunlight. He had never seen hair that color before, nor eyes so vividly blue they seemed almost otherworldly. For a fleeting second, he thought she looked... unreal.

Almost like something out of a storybook. Meanwhile, Eryndor Valthis, sitting not far from her, kept sneaking glances her way. His notes were a mess, his handwriting scattered and uneven. He was trying hard to keep up, but every time he looked at Xylenne, she seemed completely composed, her quill gliding effortlessly as though she'd known the answers long before the lesson began.

She's amazing, he thought, awe and frustration twisting in equal measure. She looks so shy, but she's so smart... even the professor praised her earlier.

He tried to focus on his notes, but his eyes wandered back toward her again, the way her ribbon swayed slightly when she moved, the way her lips formed the faintest hint of a smile while she wrote.

But someone else noticed.

From the far corner of the room, that same black-haired boy watched the two of them closely. His red eyes narrowed, the faintest crease forming between his brows. Eryndor's constant glances toward Xylenne irritated him, though he didn't understand why.

He didn't know her. He didn't know him. And yet, watching Eryndor look at her stirred something heavy and unpleasant in his chest. Something that felt suspiciously like anger. His jaw tightened.

The quill in his hand tapped once, twice, against the paper before he stopped writing altogether, his gaze fixed coldly on the back of Eryndor's head. The air in the classroom stayed calm, but underneath the silence, tension began to quietly hum, invisible but present.

The professor's voice filled the air again, low and soothing. "And that concludes the first section on elemental resonance. Now, turn your pages to chapter five."

Students murmured and rustled through their books.

Xylenne flipped to the next page effortlessly, her smile still faintly present. Eryndor sighed and hurried to catch up, while in the corner, those crimson eyes stayed fixed, watching her, watching him, the faintest flicker of something dark stirring beneath their calm surface.