"It was the height of summer when we last met in person beneath Heimdallr. Your classmate could barely hold her own against me in a duel. I wonder how the rest of you will fare?"

C twirled his double saber above his head and called forth two archaisms to his side. Directly across from him was Rean, Alisa, Elliot, Laura, Fie, and Angelica. They were all relatively winded from having just beaten Vulcan, but they were still on a mission to rescue the miners captured by the terrorists. The mention of their classmate only instilled them with even more motivation.

"Morgan may not be here with us, but we're still going to take you down!" Rean nodded at his friends. "Together!"

C chuckled. "Do you think you can prevail now where she fell short? Tell me not with words, but with steel!"

"...And that covers everything that we found, Your Highness," Morgan softly reported into her ARCUS. "We're on our way back to the capital with your sister and Elise in tow, as you requested. Estimated time of arrival should be an hour."

"Excellent. Your friends in Group A and I are on our way back via airship. I hope your classmates haven't been acting too uptight around Alfin."

Morgan peeked inside the car that their group, along with their instructor and their two escorts, were currently occupying. Fortunately for them, the train they were on had a car that they were able to claim for themselves, which gave them some much needed privacy. Alfin wasted no time in making herself right at home with the other Sevens and was currently learning how to play Blade against Elise.

"I don't think there's anything you need to worry about, Your Highness," Morgan said with a small smile. "What about Rean and the others? Are they holding up okay?"

"None of them are gravely injured. That C fellow did a number on them, and according to Rean, Crow was separated from them for a time due to a sudden collapse in the mine."

Before her mind could process the information fully, Morgan was already covering her mouth to stifle her gasp.

"...But thankfully, all of them were able to pull through. Still, taking down a terrorist organization isn't something that will leave your mind anytime soon, hence why they are taking some well-deserved rest below deck. It's also why I asked that Elise join your group as well; I wanted to at least give Rean some peace of mind knowing that his sister was in capable hands."

"So, it's true, then?" Morgan asked tentatively. "The Imperial Liberation Front is gone?"

"They are gone, indeed," Olivert succinctly replied. "The embers of revolution shall purge the empire no more.

"I…see…"

Prince Olivert made a humming sound from the other end of the speaker. "And yet it doesn't sound like you are rejoicing."

"N-No! O-Of course I'm relieved they're gone! It's just…" Morgan's voice trailed off. The words she was spewing out of her mouth betrayed the feelings that she held in her heart.

"You don't need to tell me now if you are still sorting out your feelings," the prince said, almost as if he was able to sense Morgan's unease. "Duke Cayenne and the other heads of the Four Great Houses have an audience with Father the day after tomorrow. No doubt their stance will be called into question by the Blood and Iron Chancellor and his subordinates. And as for what happens after…"

Prince Olivert chuckled. "Well, that's not a problem for you and your class to worry about. I'm sure you have your hands full enough as is with planning that performance of yours."

Morgan blinked. "How did you…wait. Alfin told you, didn't she?"

"Naturally. I must say, you should have told me sooner! Tell me: is there still room for a wandering bard on your stage?"

A bead of uneasy sweat fell from Morgan's forehead. "S-Sorry, but the boys and I have decided on our parts. Maybe Olivier Lenheim can join some other time."

"Ah, 'tis a shame. I suppose he'll have to settle for serenading from the audience this time." The prince then cleared his throat. "Still, I hardly believe you all are in the right mood to be planning something so ambitious. Your group was put under heavy surveillance in Ordis, while Rean and the others are still recovering from their near-death experience with the terrorists. I believe a chance to rest your wings is in order. Perhaps a vacation to Milsante? Or maybe a retreat to the snowy landscapes of Ymir? I can provide for food and lodging, of course."

"P-Please refrain from making such jokes, Your Highness…"

"I'm being completely serious," Olivert said. "Even putting aside how the backbone of any artistic endeavor is a clear head, your class has done much for us and Erebonia as a whole. It's only fitting that you be compensated in some way. I know for a fact that Father and Mother have been looking for ways to repay you since you rescued Alfin, and the eradication of the Imperial Liberation Front is just the sort of excuse-er, opportunity for you to get the recognition you duly deserve."

"We were just doing what we considered necessary within the confines of our field study…"

"Then allow me to put it another way. Rest and relaxation is necessary for maintaining an army's morale. Otherwise, the stresses of wartime will affect their performance in the field. If not for yourself, then at least consider it for your classmates. Think of it as a little proposition to keep in mind for the next few days. And if you still feel like arguing… Well, you can always take it up to Father."

Now Morgan was positive that Prince Olivert was joking.

"Achoo!" Olivert sneezed. "Ooh, I think I'll need to end things here, lest I catch a cold from standing out here on the deck. Do stay safe out there, Morgan."

"Alright. Thank you for checking in on us, Your Highness."

The call ended from the other end, and Morgan closed her ARCUS and put it into her skirt pocket. When she looked up, she was met with her reflection in the window, revealing her disheveled appearance and conflicted mien.

…

"The Imperial Liberation Front…is no more."

Time almost seemed to slow down for Morgan when she heard those words.

"So the leaders are all…?"

"This is all too sudden…"

The rest of her classmates also couldn't believe the news. The terrorists that had gripped the empire with fear and were just starting to gain traction thanks to their attack on Garrelia Fortress, now gone like an afterthought. It felt too anticlimactic of a finale to be real, and the cause of death being a third party sniper also made things very fishy. Even Millium, the most excitable of the group, looked very concerned at the implications.

"I know that this is all probably leaving a bitter taste in your mouths…" Morgan noticed Instructor Sara looking at her when she said that. "But we can worry about what to do next once we've reconvened with Group A. For now, leave the cleanup to the professionals and get ready to leave Ordis in half an hour."

Amidst all the commotion, Morgan couldn't find it in herself to listen carefully. Her thoughts had devolved into a tumultuous state of disarray.

C, the person she vowed to exact revenge upon…dead?

…

It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, and yet as Olivert had detected, Morgan was not immediately rejoicing. The storm that had been brewing in her mind was reaching full capacity, just barely on the verge of bursting.

"HEEHEEHEE…"

Morgan cradled herself with her arms, shivering from the ghastly chill caused by her anathema.

"What's wrong with me…?"

A while later, Morgan and the rest of Group B transferred custody of Alfin and Elise to Matteus and Aurier Vander, who met them at the entrance to the train station. Alfin and Elise extended their gratitude to Class VII for escorting them and teaching them how to play Blade, with Elise also telling them to give Rean her best wishes. After they departed, the students met up with their friends in Group A at the airport. There was much relief on both fronts to see that the other group made it back from the field study in one piece, and together the members of Class VII took the last outbound train to their home in Trista.

The following morning, Sara announced during breakfast that due to yesterday's events, Class VII would be given the day off to recompose themselves. Meanwhile, the news of the ILF's defeat had already begun to make the rounds throughout the student body, and there were many individuals who were clever enough to piece together that Class VII was in Roer for their field study. So, immediately after making her announcement, Sara left to go and deal with the droves of students who showed up at the Class VII dormitory to hound them for details. It took the combined efforts of her and Sharon (much to the former's chagrin) to finally convince the curious crowd to give the Sevens their space.

"The ILF… C…"

Morgan took a whiff of her morning tea and frowned. With the news of the ILF's defeat still weighing on her, she had become distracted and ended up adding a few too many tea leaves into her pot. Already, her day was not off to a great start. It was a waste to throw the tea away and start anew, so Morgan put the teapot along with two cups on a tray and brought it upstairs. She stopped in front of Emma's door and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Emma. I brought some tea."

"Okay! I'll be right there."

The bespectacled girl opened the door for Morgan and motioned for her to come inside. She had set up a small table in the center of her room along with two floor pillows, one on each side. Celine was also present, though she was currently napping in the corner.

"Thank you for coming on short notice, Morgan."

"No problem. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma sat down while Morgan began pouring some tea into the tea cups. As the aroma of the tea started to spread throughout the room, Celine made a loud hissing sound.

"Of all the tea blends, why did you have to choose THAT one?" the talking cat(!) complained.

"Is there something you have against lavender, Celine?" Morgan asked.

"Less the blend and more the memories associated with it. Reminds me too much of a certain person that mustn't be named."

"Celine…" Emma gave her familiar a stern look. The two of them stayed like that for a short while, almost as if they were sharing a conversation inside each other's heads.

"I can brew another blend if you want," Morgan suggested. "I think I put in a bit too many leaves today."

"There's no need for that. It'd be a waste to throw it away when you already put in the work." To prove her point, Emma took one of the cups and sipped the liquid. Immediately after tasting it, she made a face. "That's certainly a strong cup."

"Yeah, not my best. Ahaha…"

Celine sighed. "Well, there goes my chances of easing my way into the day in a good mood. You two can have your tea party; I'll go and sunbathe someplace else."

The cat nimbly leapt from her spot in the corner to Emma's desk, opened the window, and jumped out of it, leaving Morgan and Emma alone in the room.

"Is she going to be okay falling from that high up?"

"Celine always lands on her feet. I'm sure she'll be fine."

The two girls uneasily took a sip from their respective cups.

"Do you hate lavender, Emma?"

"Not especially. It just reminds me of my older sister. She really liked lavender, you see."

Morgan noted Emma's deliberate use of past tense.

"To tell the truth, that is another personal objective of mine," Emma continued. "Celine and I are both looking for her."

"Is she missing?"

"In a sense…" Emma answered vaguely. "No one has heard from her in years."

"Is she a wandering witch?"

Emma shook her head. "Not officially. Grandmother won't give me all the details, only that she broke some sort of taboo and subsequently abandoned her post as her apprentice. To this day, no one has told me the specifics, probably to keep me from going down the same path."

Morgan silently listened as Emma began to recount her tale. "I lost my mother at a young age, so my grandmother took custody over me. At the time, she had another student who she named as her successor. The two of us became as close as sisters. And then…"

"...I parted ways with the Hexen Clan," Vita said as she led Morgan deeper into the ruins. "There are numerous secrets hidden in the world. Relics and ruins dating to ancient history, with some even harboring connections to the inexplicable. I yearned to seek them out and share that knowledge with the world. My master naturally didn't approve of it."

"Maybe your master had a reason for wanting to leave them alone?" Morgan wondered. "What if someone who doesn't know about magic gets their hands on a dangerous artifact? They could use it to their advantage."

The diva chuckled. "A fair argument. But artifacts are like money. They're neither good nor bad inherently; rather, it's how you use them that dictates their value. In fact, I once heard that a member of the royal family got their hands on a peculiar artifact that could perform long distance calls. Would you say that they are bad people for not submitting them to the authorities, hm?"

Morgan gulped uncomfortably, not daring to give an answer.

"Heehee! I jest. You really do have the loveliest reactions, Morgan." Vita gave her an apologetic smile. "Like I said, it comes down to the person using them. But during the course of my travels, I have come to realize that even among artifacts, there are certain ones that must be kept out of the hands of non-magical beings as much as possible. Case in point…"

Vita uttered an incantation, and a ball of light began to form in the palm of her hand, illuminating the surrounding area. Vita then lifted the ball of light upwards, and after a moment of it floating suspended in the air, it burst open and sent light to several torches that had been unlit until now. It was at that moment that Morgan realized the space they were occupying was much larger than she had anticipated. big enough to house an airship. How did a place like this even come to exist, much less be located underground?

"Many millennia ago, during the Great Collapse…" Vita began, almost as if she were reading Morgan's mind. "Our ancestors created weapons of unfathomable power, far surpassing anything that modern orbal technology can achieve today, to do battle against a great enemy. They emerged victorious, but fearing what they had created, they elected to seal the weapons away. Over time, however, they would be continuously unearthed by the wrong people whenever conflict erupted in the lands that would eventually become the Erebonian Empire. Their sparse appearances throughout history eventually cemented them as hallmarks of Erebonian folklore."

Morgan remembered the small excerpt from Erebonian Folklore that Vita had recited. "The knight from the legends…!"

"Knights," Vita corrected. "Seven were created in total, and all of them were sealed in chambers scattered all across the empire. Just like the one we're in right now."

Morgan crossed her arms and frowned. "But if they've been sealed by witches, then how come they keep getting unsealed? And why does the Cayenne family know about this?"

"The witches at the time must have discerned that their power was necessary. Had they not been used, the balance of the world would have fallen to ruin. And as for His Lordship…" Vita shook her head. "He didn't explain much to me at all; only that it was a family secret. I would wager that one of his ancestors used to be a pilot for one of these knights."

"Pilots?" Morgan's mouth hung open. "Just how big are they?"

"Not human sized, that's for certain." Vita then spread her arms outward to the empty space in front of them. "Of course, as you can see, there's nothing here at the moment. Exactly as I left it the last time I was here. So tell me, Morgan: what do you suppose this means?"

Morgan could only think of a few possibilities. The first was that the whole story about the knights was a fake and there was nothing here to begin with, in which case everything leading up to this point was just one fever dream. Very unlikely, but Morgan decided to pinch herself just in case. Ow. Nope, totally not a dream.

Second theory: the knight that was supposed to have been sealed here was destroyed and never made it back. Immediately, Morgan thought of the giant statue embedded into the side of Bryonia Island. The location and time period certainly matched, but the size was another thing entirely. The guardian of Bryonia Island was far too massive to fit into this chamber, much less transport it outside so it could be piloted. For all Morgan knew, its parts could have been scattered all across the empire.

Third and final theory: somebody already found the knight and was keeping it to themselves. This was the outcome that Morgan hoped wasn't true, given the implications of a weapon of mass destruction being somewhere out there on the loose. It also wasn't entirely impossible that a wandering witch had just stumbled upon the ruins accidentally and decided to take it for safekeeping. But how would they have moved the weapon outside and, more importantly, concealed it from other witches without anyone noticing?

"Does every witch know of the locations of these chambers?"

"Not specifically," Vita replied. "Our magical training has allowed us to become more in tune with the elements, so we can tell when there's an unusual amount of energy in one spot. Most of the time, our senses lead to ruins or shrines that were built atop a cluster of septium veins."

"And have you visited any of these other locations?"

"Yup. It's one of the benefits of traveling around as both an artist and a journalist. Of course, not all of the ruins I've seen are like this one. The real giveaway is the presence of the higher elements of time, space, and mirage; the stronger the presence, the higher the chance that something important is sealed away somewhere inside."

Morgan nodded, letting that detail sink in. To her, it all but confirmed a personal theory she had ever since she entered this place: these ruins and the old schoolhouse were connected in a way that didn't just stop at architecture. And while she was at it, she could also add Lohengrin Castle to the list.

"Granted, it's not as simple as waltzing into one of these ruins and finding the knight," Vita continued. "A witch also has to be accompanied by a special person who is worthy of piloting the knight sealed within called an Awakener. And in order to prove themselves worthy, that Awakener must surpass a series of trials."

"The knights…choose their pilot?" Morgan asked confusedly. "Do they have a mind of their own or something?"

"In our world of magic, our wands and staves choose their owners. It's not so farfetched, then, to assume that the knights follow the same criteria."

Morgan hummed to herself. In that sense, these knights acted as the equivalents to legendary weapons like the Falchion in her world. Only those of Ylissean royal blood were able to wield them.

"So why are you showing me all of this?" she asked Vita.

"As a member of Class VII, you've been across the empire many times before. And there's a high chance that you'll be traveling even more for your field studies. That's why I would like to ask you a favor…"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Morgan started waving her hands erratically. "Don't you think this is all completely out of my league? I'm not magically inclined the way you are, Vita."

Vita giggled. "I'm only asking because you're my friend, Morgan. Of all the people I know, you're the only one I can trust with this secret of mine." She winked. "And friends should be honest with each other, shouldn't they?"

"Still, I don't think I'm the right person to ask to help you locate the rest of the remaining knights…"

"Then are you suggesting that you know someone who does?"

Morgan stopped. She had been just a hair's breadth away from suggesting that Vita seek out Emma for assistance. Remembering that her bespectacled classmate had already trusted her with keeping her identity a secret, Morgan cursed herself for being so careless.

"I guess it was presumptuous of me to expect an answer right now. I should be the one apologizing for springing all of this on you so suddenly." To Morgan's surprise, Vita lowered her head in apology. "I just believe in striking while the iron's hot, you know? Time is the killer of all deals."

"I-I never said that I wasn't willing to help…"

Vita immediately looked up, her eyes wide open.

"If these weapons are as dangerous as you say they are, then they should definitely be kept out of the wrong hands. You've already put so much on the line trying to earn my trust; it's only fitting that I respond in kind." Morgan took in a deep breath, calming her nerves before she made her decision. "I can't promise I'll be of much help, but I'll do what I can."

Vita rushed forward and shook her hands, nearly tripping in her heels in the process. "Thank you, Morgan! You don't know how much this means to me!"

Morgan was caught off guard by Vita's behavior, but then again, when wasn't she full of surprises. "What are friends for, right?" she added.

"Still, again, thank you! And gosh, I did NOT mean to break character like that. I'll pay you back for this, promise!"

"You don't need to pay me or anything!" Morgan insisted, both her hands raised. "I don't need money!"

"No, no, I insist. An adult like me can't just enlist a minor's help and expect them to work for free. That'd just be extortion. If there's one thing I've learned from my travels, it's to always make sure that you have something in your back pocket to sweeten a deal. Let's see, how about this…"

Vita leaned forward and whispered her proposition into Morgan's ear. "Lately, I've begun to feel a strange energy emanating from somewhere in your academy. If you can help me locate the source, then I'll do everything in my power to help you remove that curse of yours."

"...That's why you should take care to not get too overwhelmed with negative thoughts, do you understand? There's no telling what might happen now that your curse is flaring up more frequently than usual."

"Y-Yeah…" Morgan nodded her head. "Thanks, Emma."

The bespectacled witch smiled at her. "Don't you worry, Morgan. My grandmother said that she's researching a countercurse as we speak. We'll help you get better in no time!"

Morgan smiled back, though hers was a bit smaller than Emma's. "Hey, Emma?"

"Yes, Morgan?"

"About your mission… Does it have anything to do with the old schoolhouse?"

Emma froze. Her hand that was holding her teacup started trembling uncontrollably. "Wh-Wh-Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"

"It's just something that's been on my mind ever since the Legram field study," Morgan said calmly. "The air in the castle at the time reminded me of the lower floors of the old schoolhouse. The further we go down, the stronger the higher elements become. Lohengrin Castle was the same, except everything culminated in the highest floor."

Her dark eyes met the young witch's bright blue. "Those two places…they have to be connected somehow, right?"

Emma remained completely silent, her expression conflicted. It was not hard to discern that she was internally debating on whether to divulge her secret or continue adhering to her original mission.

"You don't have to give me a long answer," Morgan added. "But even some of our more magically challenged members can tell there's something off about that place. Our expeditions down there might have ended, but if there's something dangerous like that Nosferatu in the castle living under our noses, then I think we have the right to know what we might be up against."

The reasoning Morgan gave wasn't entirely false, but it was something that she had made up on the spot to get Emma to talk. Really, all Morgan needed was confirmation, and Emma was the only other person who was capable of giving that.

The bespectacled witch closed her eyes and meditated for a small moment. After a brief period of silence, she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, Morgan. But I cannot under any circumstance disclose the details of my mission to anyone just yet."

"Not even to your friends?"

"Especially because you're my friend, Morgan. On this, I cannot waver."

Morgan tried her best to hide her frown from her friend. Eventually, she relented by nodding her head. "I understand. Sorry for being so pushy."

"I should be the one apologizing…" Emma said. "You were only asking out of concern for the safety of our classmates. You're going to make a great tactician one day, I'm sure of it."

The two of them shared a smile, but for Morgan, it was only out of formality.

It wasn't that she thought of Emma as any less of a good friend. She was the one who had taught her how to better control her magic flow, after all.

Rather, it only made Morgan appreciate Vita's honesty even more.

"…I told you I'd be watching you," Morgan muttered under her breath. "Don't think we're done with you just yet."

The old schoolhouse, as an entity without a mouth, naturally did not respond.

Morgan silently stood in front of the old schoolhouse for what felt like an eternity. With all the information she had amassed over the past few days, she was almost certainly positive that there was more to it than just being a dilapidated building. But was it housing a giant knight? Dungeon logic normally dictates that the most valuable reward would be sealed in the deepest section. For the ruins in Ordis, it was the innermost chamber; for the schoolhouse, that would naturally lead to the bottom floor.

But that was the problem: Class VII had already reached the bottom floor, and their most recent expedition didn't reveal any new chambers. So far, the only floor that had something different was the fourth floor, where Rean in his enraged state had protected Elise from the giant walking suit of armor. However, that space could hardly be called a chamber, and George had been able to confirm that there was no room inside the suit of armor to house a person.

Which meant only one thing: their adventures with the old schoolhouse weren't done just yet.

But Morgan was getting ahead of herself. After all, she didn't come here to initiate her own investigation.

"Dance of Seasons, Act Three: Lilac's Last Bloom."

She raised her arm above her head, took in a deep breath, and began to move her feet in a rhythmic set of steps.

'First like that, then like this…'

Morgan raised both her arms before slowly moving them down, all while fluttering her hands in a sprouting motion akin to a flower blooming. She had initially taken up routine dancing as an attempt to regain some of her lost memories; eventually, it evolved into a pastime that she would partake in whenever she wanted to clear her head.

She tucked her right leg in while spinning counterclockwise. Then, she traced her foot along the ground in the other direction while rotating her hips. The flower stood tall, having reached the peak of its growth and sprouted leaves to call its own.

Every time her body moved, her muscle memory would recall the next part of the sequence. Eventually, as the routine became more complex, Morgan found herself needing a larger space to practice. So, every so often, she would come and practice in front of the old schoolhouse. It was the perfect place: quiet, open, and away from prying eyes.

Morgan dipped below her waistline and struck a pose, covering her face with her elbow. Now in the twilight years of its life, the flower knew the changing of the seasons would signal its end. Morgan then stood up straight with her left hand stretched outwards to enter the final phase of the routine, symbolizing the flower's last efforts to withstand the winds of change. She quickened her tempo, twirling on one foot before leaping and twirling on the other. A spinning kick motion followed by a leap backward. A backflip in the other direction. A spinning jump in place that ended in a kneeling position. It was finished.

If she had been in front of a live crowd, Morgan hoped that they were satisfied with her performance. For now, she would have to settle for the imaginary audience that was cheering for her in her head. Ah, she could even hear the sounds of a person clapping…

"Whoo! Nice moves, Morgs!"

"Wait…" Morgan's eyes bolted wide open, and her back arched up to see, much to her horror, a very impressed Crow Armbrust.

"You never told me you could move like that! Dude, imagine what your guys' performance would look like if you were leading the choreography!"

"I-I… Y-You… Ah?!" Her heavy breaths from having completed her routine combined with the trickster catching her off guard combined to make Morgan tongue-tied for what was probably the first time in her life. "Wh-Why didn't you tell me you were watching?!" she managed to say.

"Come on, even I know better than to interrupt an artist when they're in the zone. Clara from the Art Club made sure of that last year." He visibly shuddered when he mentioned the Art Club president's name.

Morgan cleared her throat, trying to quickly regain her composure. Was this how her old dance instructor felt whenever people stared at her when she danced? "Anyways! Did you need me for something?"

Crow shrugged his shoulders. "What? Do I gotta have a reason for wanting to hang out with you?"

"I thought that you'd be busy bothering Rean about the designs."

"He went to go train with Laura."

"Elliot?"

"In his room playing the violin."

"Machias? Jusis?"

"Catching up with their family."

"Gaius?"

"Dunno. You were the next person I wanted to ask. Fie told me that she saw you heading towards the old schoolhouse."

In her head, Morgan pictured herself balling her hands into a fist and shaking it at the sky while screaming, "Darn it, Fie!"

"You know, she also mentioned that you know some good hole-in-the-wall spots in Heimdallr," Crow continued. "Since we've got the day off, wanna go hit up the capital?"

"Is…this your way of asking me out on a date?" Morgan asked tentatively.

"You could look at it that way. Though I prefer to see it as…expanding my horizons." Crow spread out his hands as if he were opening a window, which did earn him a small smile from Morgan. "So? You in?"

"Points for being up front about it." Morgan's smile then faded. "But I'll be fine, thanks. I just need some time alone right now."

"All I'm saying is a change in scenery might do you some good. Although…" Crow stared at her for a short while before crossing his arms and nodding. "Ohhh, I get it now. Right. Makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

"Today's your period, isn't it?"

"I BEG YOUR PARDON?!" Morgan yelled, her face flushed.

Her upperclassman, meanwhile, remained unfazed by her outburst, merely shrugging his shoulders. "Don't see why else you'd be so moody ever since you got back."

"I am NOT moody! Hmph!" Morgan huffed. The nerve of him! "And because of your crudeness, you're not getting an answer from me! So there!"

Crow let out a hearty laugh. "There's the Morgan we know and love! Don't worry, I was just joshing with you. Sara told me everything."

"Did she now?"

"She's worried, you know. She thought you'd be over the moon after hearing that the ILF were gone. Instead, it's almost like you're denying it."

"It's not that I don't believe the news. It's just…" Morgan's voice trailed off. She then shook her head and said, "Never mind. You wouldn't understand."

"Not if you say it like that," Crow countered. "It might help if you talk about it. I've been told that I'm a great listener."

Morgan let out a small scoff, but deep inside, she appreciated his attempts to lighten her spirits. Thus, she decided to accept his company.

"At the root of it all, I guess I'm just…" She pursed her lips before speaking in a nearly audible whisper, "Disappointed."

"Disappointed?" Crow echoed.

She invited him to come sit down with her on a nearby bench. "It all started during the Summer Festival, when we were trying to rescue the princess from the ILF. You've probably heard how I challenged the leader of the group, C, in single combat. I wasn't thinking straight at the time, but all I knew was that I had to make him pay for what he did to my friends and my home. There was just no way I was going to let him get away. We weren't able to reach a decisive conclusion, but I knew deep down that had we kept going, I would have lost. So I promised myself that the next time we met, I would be much stronger than I was during that time. Anything that could have held me back, I needed to overcome. I even went as far as to tackle my fear of swords directly so I wouldn't be fazed by his weapon. After we fended off his cronies at Garrelia Fortress, I thought that maybe I was one step closer to defeating him for good. And then…"

Morgan clenched her teeth and growled, "And then he just…ups and dies before I'm even able to reach him!"

Crow visibly recoiled, taken aback by Morgan's sudden outburst. Morgan, meanwhile, looked away in shame.

"I'm sorry…" she apologized meekly. "I know this is a positive outcome in the grand scheme of things. I should be feeling happy, or at the least relieved. But in my heart, all I feel is hollow inside. The fact that someone so strong went down like some measly chump. Death is too easy of a release. I can't accept this. I just…can't…"

"Morgs… I didn't realize…"

But Morgan could barely hear what Crow had said. Because at that moment, her negativity washed over her, and the sounds of ghostly laughter began ringing in her ears.

"HEEHEEHEE…"

Morgan forcefully shut her eyes, not daring to see her upperclassman's reaction to her condition. She knew she must've looked so unsightly to him.

Which made it all the more surprising when she felt his hand plant itself on top of her head.

"Eh…?"

"I wish I could give you some sage advice right now…" Crow said, his voice unnaturally soft. "But I think we both know I'm not that kind of guy. So I'll say this instead: keeping all those feelings bottled up inside will just cause a big flood of problems later down the line. If you want to vent or whatever, today's your day to do it. Don't hold back. After that, well, you can always find a new goal to strive for."

"...And what if I can't? What if I'm not…?"

Crow chuckled softly to himself. "You're going to be fine, Morgs. You've got good friends. But if you need your alone time, I won't stop you."

He rubbed her head one last time with the intent of giving her some space. But right as he was about to pull his hand away, Morgan surprised him by latching her hand onto his leg.

"Don't just start acting like you're a stranger," she said in a low voice. "You're one of those friends, too. And aren't friends supposed to be there for each other?"

A part of her knew it was a risk; who knows what the effects her anathema could have on others?

And yet, the feelings in Morgan's heart overrode the rational thoughts in her mind.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" he wondered aloud.

Morgan finally opened her eyes to look up at his confused expression. "A young maiden has just bared all of her feelings for you to see. Isn't it the gentleman's job to comfort her, my Trickster?"

If Crow didn't get the hint before, he certainly understood now. Morgan noted the small bit of hesitation in his face and body language, but he ultimately conceded. Slowly putting an arm around her shoulder, her silver-haired upperclassman pulled her close to his chest. He smelled of orbal bike oil and candied lollipops. An odd combination, but Morgan had smelled worse, and she wasn't in any room to complain. For the moment, she closed her eyes and let out all the anger and frustration she could muster, eventually finding solace in the strangely comforting rhythm of Crow's heartbeat.

"Man, what a mess…"

Crow scratched the back of his head. He and Morgan were still sitting on the bench outside the old schoolhouse, with his left arm still wrapped around her. The red aura she had been emitting had long since dissipated, and in its place was a slumbering, peaceful expression. It was almost criminal how different the black-haired girl looked when she let her guard down. Morgan was far from the daintiest and most petite girl Crow had ever met, but in that moment, she looked so vulnerable. Like she could have broken with the most minute of force like a twig.

"Finding a new goal, huh…?" Crow muttered to himself. He wondered what would happen if he were ever to succeed in his plans to kill Chancellor Osborne. Would he just go back home like nothing happened? Would he even have a home at that point? He had always touted himself as a forward-thinking individual instead of dwelling on the past, but when it came to this situation, he found himself at a loss for thoughts.

"I hope I'm not interrupting a moment."

Crow's eyes widened at the sound of the voice. He jerked his head upwards to a nearby tree, where an illuminated blue bird sat perched on a branch. It flapped its wings and took off from its perch, and upon landing on the ground near Crow, it began glowing until it morphed into the ethereal image of a woman wearing a beautiful opera dress.

"You always gotta come at the worst time…" Crow muttered, glancing down at Morgan. "What if our sleeping beauty here saw you?"

"There's no need to fret," the woman responded. "I've already told her about my secret."

"Yeah? Well, good for you. But try thinking about my cover next time!" Crow scoffed. "And since when were you so trusting, Vita? I remember having to work my ass off to get you to tell me all about you."

"Heehee! That's just how it is with women. Certain secrets just sort of…slip out during girl talk." Vita's projection began walking towards the old schoolhouse. "So this is the place…"

"Yup. It's probably down there somewhere. You wanna go and check it out now?"

Vita shook her head. "It's not the right time. And besides, Morgan doesn't meet the requirements to be this one's Awakener."

Crow raised an eyebrow. "Just how much did you show her in Ordis?"

"Only that the chamber inside the Cayenne ancestral grounds was empty. Of course, she didn't even suspect that I was the one who helped remove the knight in the first place." Vita looked down at the sleeping face of Morgan. "She has a brilliant mind, but she's still so naive…"

Crow felt his left arm instinctively pull Morgan closer. "Toying with the feelings of a young maiden? Pretty scummy, if you ask me."

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black." Vita smirked smugly. "I seem to recall you saying that you were looking forward to seeing her reaction once she finds out the truth. Something about…seeing her despair making your victory all the sweeter?"

"That's…" Crow looked away from Vita and down at Morgan. He could already picture her radiant smile contorting into an expression of pure contempt and hatred. And he would know what that looked like; she had worn it the entire time they had fought in Heimdallr.

"Heehee…" Vita tucked one of her glowing fingers below Crow's chin. Despite it being just a projection, there was a force that made him look into her eyes. "It's a bit late to be having second thoughts, as I'm sure you're aware. Though I must say, I'm quite surprised to see that she was the one who caught your fancy. You always told me that you preferred older women. Or perhaps those tastes have changed after your time with the other lady Sevens?"

Her tone was sultry and seductive, and Crow knew that she was directing his vision in a way that made her dangling cleavage impossible to miss. It was unfair just how much she was tempting him, tantalizing his urges with her two pieces of forbidden fruit and knowing that she was too out of reach for him to do anything.

"...Heh. As if. You're always gonna be number one."

"That's right. And don't you forget it."

With a look of smug satisfaction, Vita flicked her finger up from Crow's chin and turned around. "Enjoy your school days while you still can. You know what has to happen at the end of it all."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll uphold my end of the deal."

"Until next time, then…" Vita flashed a devilish grin. "...Trickster."

Vita's projection vanished into a cloud of blue mist as the blue bird from before reemerged. It gave Crow a small nod before flying above the old schoolhouse and out of sight.

Crow was left alone with his thoughts and a Morgan who had somehow managed to sleep through their entire conversation without opening an eye. The way Vita had knowingly called him by the same pet name Morgan had coined for him… It didn't sit right with him at all.

Just like how it didn't sit right with him knowing that he, the one responsible for Morgan's anguish in the first place, was the one comforting her in her time of emotional vulnerability.

His comrades were right. He was getting soft.

Crow lifted his left arm from its place around Morgan's shoulder and let it dangle to his side. He looked up towards the sky and sighed, finally feeling the gravity of the situation.

If his grandfather were here, he surely would have recoiled at the sight of the scum his grandson had become.

"What a mess…"

Author's note: Something short and sweet I was able to squeeze out while I had the free time. I had been watching the new Trails of Cold Steel anime centered on the Northern War (hard to believe that something that was announced while I was writing this fic came out before I could finish it), and I've received some questions if I plan to cover some material or incorporate it into this story. The short answer: no. Not just because I think the anime was overall very subpar, but the content of the Northern War had always been so disconnected from the rest of Class VII that I don't feel justified with referencing it outside of the occasional flashback.

Next time: the obligatory event for almost every RPG out there.