In the south wing of the castle where the vast library of the Black Castle stood, Carys found himself in a dark corner with a pile of history books on the table. The book he was currently reading titled Great History of Eos, had been worn out so much that the letters had begun to fade and its paper had turned yellow with age.

Before the continent came to be, the world was united into one whole continent called Eos. According to the book, which was written by the Serz State’s aristocrat from several generations ago, the continent had broken off the large land, dividing its people and going through numerous great conflicts that caused about the first continental war.

Although from another book he had read, the continent was not due to natural disasters, but through man’s sins of going against the gods by building a tower through the heavens. No matter which one was correct, these different cases of the world’s history held some sliver of truth.

But history was not a subject Carys was particularly fond of. As of now, the thousand year Karin Festival would be held at the same week graduation would be and to curb his anxiety of having to leave the institute he had grown up in, he had turned to books to get lost in the annals of history.

Carys held a special existence among the students of Agora. He was a normal student, but in exception to certain classes that had to be held public. In short, even in this closed off place, he was in restrictions of what he can and cannot do.

As part of the warriors branch, Carys spends lur to virer attending classes and training in the black tower. Because he could not attend joint and public classes, he hadn’t attended a single sparring class from the first year to now. While others speculated the reason, people generally left him alone after witnessing his sword skills.

Useless as he might be, his skills can at least be counted as a 3rd class swordsman. His hands continued to trail over the ancient language of Karin. The bracelet that hung on his wrist once again reminded him of his place. Letting out a sigh, he closed the book and picked up another one.

Cultures Of A Thousand Languages.The book contained records of tribes and countries that believed themselves to be eternal and unfaltering. Forever lost in the history of time, Carys skimmed over a few extinct tribes that bore unique appearances and peculiar traditions. The tribe of Ojdan, whose people were born with hair as white as snow and glittering pink eyes.

It was suffocating, hiding himself.

But in turn it also provided a sense of comfort. As long as the bracelet clung tightly to his wrist, there was no way anyone would ever find out his identity. His continuous worries would continue to be unfounded and no one would hunt him down.

He was safe.

Poring over the thick book with a worn cover, a flow of laughter drifted to his ears. He looked up from the dark corner to the stained glass window a little to his right.

The windows were wide open, allowing breeze in and sound to travel freely. Carys wondered who on earth could be noisy in the early morning and in such a quiet place too. Compared to the institute in the state of Yllion, the only people who would ever find themselves lost in the huge library were the blacksmiths, tamers, and metallurgists. Rarely would you ever find warriors in such a place.

Judging from such a carefree and quite ridiculous laughter, he could only guess it had to come from a woman. He already had someone in mind but Carys wasn't entirely sure about it. That person had only been a distant companion and a brief sparring partner, she had never bothered to grace him with her presence after that.

‘How unusual,’ he thought as he ignored the bout of laughter and resumed reading the thickly worn book on his lap.

However another flow of laughter drifted to his ears, which had now piqued his curiosity. What could ever be the reason she laughs so freely? Granted, he had only ever seen her with a manic face while sparring with the others, and that gentle face she showed to her juniors. Even then with such a personality, Carys could roughly point out that she always had her guard up, even with a smiling face.

A bit like him, he supposed. With a mask ingrained so deeply into his self that he could no longer differentiate if he was acting or not, it was the sort of kindred sense that he thought Ethel might also be the same.

Closing the book at hand, he stood up and walked closer to the window, where a peculiar sight had greeted him. Ethel, who always tied her hair in a low ponytail, had her hair down while caressing one of the pigs in the nearby pen.

'What is she doing?'

Carys had assumed that she would be interacting with an animal with how she was almost cooing. A bird, a rabbit, a horse, even a cat would be expected but a – pig? How on earth had she managed to befriend one of the pigs? Surely she was not a farmer in her previous life, could she?

Carys wanted to return to reading his books but somehow found himself stuck next to the window watching their interaction for the next few minutes. Of course, people who had walked by also became curious, but hadn’t lingered long enough and returned to their tasks.

Ethel had been good friends with one of the pigs here since she was in her 1st year. Back then, this fat pig that she was caressing was so small that the owner wondered if she could ever survive till adulthood.

Seeing the sickly pig’s small figure struck a chord in her that she had bargained with the owner to sell the pig to her. After careful nursing and asking one of the farmers she was good friends with, Ethel managed to nurse this fat pig back to health. Curiously enough, the previous pale pink color of the pig turned to white, which first bothered her but after not seeing anything unusual ignored it.

Now... She hadn’t managed to miss Carys staring at her from the third floor of the library window for the past ten minutes. How could she – a warrior of the 3rd class, not detect such an intense stare? And from a person she believed to be stoic and a bit of a loner.

Did her caressing a pig come across as unusual? It might come as a shock to him too. A grown woman of 22 years was petting a 6 year old fat pig was not normal – under any circumstances. Her back had been turned away from him so he couldn’t see her expressions.

Quite ugly expressions too. His stare was beginning to feel uncomfortable and her face squinted into that of someone who had severe constipation. The farmer, who was inside the small shack had caught her expression and laughed. Finally when she was about to give up spending her rare time alone with the pig, she felt Carys’ stare recede and disappear, much to her relief. But that begs the question, why was he staring in the first place?

Ethel might have to search up the library whether or not white pigs were rare. She had seen black pigs, but never white. Of course, in this vast world where even magic was possible, it wasn’t far from abnormal if there ever were white pigs.

After the pesky eagles started cawing, which signaled the start of classes, Ethel had to bid her pig goodbye and change into her uniform before secretly running off to skip class.