Lament for My First Life

The Boy With Crimson Eyes

The morning light spilled through the frosted carriage window as Xylenne sat beside her grandfather, her small hands fidgeting in her lap. The horses' steady trot echoed faintly against the cobblestone streets of the capital, and the Winter family crest gleamed proudly on the side of the carriage.

"Why didn't Zephyros take me to school today?" she asked suddenly, glancing up at her grandfather.

Her grandfather adjusted his gloves, his expression unreadable. "He's going to be busy for a while, little dove."

"Busy?" she tilted her head. "I can help him with whatever it is!"

Her grandfather gave a small, dry chuckle. "His matters are far more pressing than something a seven-year-old can handle, Xylenne. Just be a good girl and go to your classes. I'll be dropping you off and picking you up from now on."

Xylenne's shoulders sank. "But I wanted Zephyros to take me to school," she mumbled, pouting softly.

"Now, don't complain," her grandfather said firmly, though not unkindly. "Make some friends, play with the other children. That's what you should be doing at your age, not worrying about grown men and their business."

She frowned and looked out the window as the tall towers of the Royal Academy came into view. The sun was just beginning to rise fully, casting a golden glow on the marble steps ahead.

When the carriage stopped, she stepped out gracefully, clutching her satchel and climbing the steps toward the great arched doors.

Inside, the day began as usual, lessons, chalk dust, the professor's calm voice echoing through the classroom. Xylenne sat neatly at her desk, her quill scratching quickly across the paper. Every subject was one she had already learned long ago. She could recite the history books by memory, solve every equation, and finish every assignment before anyone else.

But something felt... different today.

A strange heaviness pressed against the back of her neck. Someone was staring at her. She turned her head just slightly, enough to glance over her shoulder.

In the far back corner of the room sat a boy she hadn't noticed before. His black hair was messy and unkempt, his crimson eyes resting on her with quiet intensity. His chin rested on one hand, his expression unreadable, cold, detached, and yet his gaze didn't waver for even a second.

Xylenne quickly turned back to face the front, her heart skipping. Why's that kid staring at me? she thought, her small fingers tightening on her quill. A minute passed. Then another. He's still staring, she realized, the back of her neck tingling. What's his deal anyway?

She rolled her eyes subtly where no one could see, trying to focus on the board, but it didn't help. Even during the next lesson, the weight of his stare didn't fade.

When break time arrived, Eryndor bounded up to her as usual, his satchel swinging from one arm. "Xylenne!" he called cheerfully. "Let's go eat by the courtyard!" But even as they sat together on the benches under the shade of the courtyard arches, Xylenne's attention drifted back toward the classroom door.

"Eryndor..." she whispered, leaning closer. "I think that boy behind us, the one with the messy black hair, he's been watching us all day."

Eryndor blinked, startled. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "He was staring at me earlier. I can still feel it."

Eryndor cautiously turned his head to glance back toward the classroom window. The same boy was there, sitting alone near the back, eyes half-lidded but still fixed in their direction.

Eryndor quickly turned back around. "He is watching us..." he whispered.

"Does he dislike us?" Xylenne asked softly.

"Can't be," Eryndor said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "We've never even met him. He just... seems like the quiet, gloomy type."

"Should we go and introduce ourselves?" she asked. Eryndor's eyes widened. "W-what? Are you serious? He kind of scares me."

"I'll go first," Xylenne said confidently, standing up. "You come with me, okay?" Eryndor sighed but nodded, following her reluctantly as she walked back into the classroom. The boy was still there, leaning back in his chair, gaze fixed lazily on the window now. He didn't move when they approached, didn't even blink.

"H-hey..." Xylenne began, clasping her hands politely in front of her. "I'm Xylenne Winters, from the House of Winters." She bowed slightly. After a small pause, Eryndor followed her lead. "Eryndor Valthis, from the House of Valthis," he said nervously. The boy blinked once, unimpressed. "I know who you two are," he said simply, his tone flat and almost bored.

"O-oh..." Xylenne said, fidgeting slightly. "Well, I noticed you staring at me earlier, so I wondered if maybe... you wanted to be friends?"

The boy smirked faintly, but it wasn't a warm smile. "If I wanted to be friends," he said, "I would've made you my friend."

"O-oh..." she stammered, her cheeks heating. "Then... can I at least know why you're staring at me?"

He tilted his head, one eyebrow arching. "What? Am I not allowed to look? I can do what I want with my eyes."

Xylenne bit her lip. "I-I'm sorry if I made you upset."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And if you did upset me," he said quietly, "I would've confronted you already. What do you take me for?"

Her heart thumped in her chest, his tone wasn't angry, but it was sharp enough to sting. "O-oh... I was just curious, that's all," she said softly. His breath hitched for the smallest second. Curious...? His heart skipped, a strange, unfamiliar tightness in his chest. "W-well—" he stammered suddenly, his earlier composure cracking, "I-I'm not curious about you, so just leave me alone!" His voice came out louder than intended, making both Xylenne and Eryndor flinch.

Eryndor tugged lightly on her sleeve. "Let's just go..." he whispered.

Xylenne nodded quickly, bowing her head slightly. "S-sorry for bothering you," she said before turning away. The two walked back toward their seats, Eryndor still tense, Xylenne still confused. Behind them, the boy watched their retreating figures for a moment, his expression unreadable once again, except for the faintest flush coloring his cheeks. He exhaled slowly, resting his chin back on his hand.

"Curious, huh..." he muttered under his breath, looking away.