The Essence Flow

Chapter 171: Unnatural Calm

Rellie stepped onto the Third-Class floor, her boots silent against the worn stone.

To the right—the boys’ wing, its doorway shadowed and still.

To the left—a narrow hallway that curved toward the girls’ wing.

(No one’s here…?)

Her fingers brushed the hilt of her dagger as she turned left—

And froze.

A Second-Year boy stood right in front of her, materializing as if from the air itself. A short sword glinted in his grip, its edge catching the dim torchlight.

Rellie’s stance shifted instantly, dagger flashing into her palm. (I couldn’t sense him?!) Her pulse spiked.

Something was wrong.

A faint purple outline clung to the boy’s form—barely visible, like a ripple in water. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t human.

"Oh?" The boy tilted his head, grinning. "Didn’t know a girl joined us."

Rellie’s grip tightened. Then—realization. He thinks I’m one of them. Her dagger, her stance—she could pass for a rebel.

"I’m sure we haven’t met yet." He waved, disarmingly casual. "Name’s Patrick, but everyone calls me Park. Y’know, ‘cause I’m always in parks." A chuckle. "I’m in charge of this floor, but…" He scratched his neck, feigning sheepishness. "Could you handle the girls’ wing? Feels weird barging in there."

Rellie’s eyes narrowed. (He builds trust fast…)

"Yeah, sure," she said flatly, stepping past him.

"Nice!" Park beamed, flipping his hand in a lazy salute. "I’ll leave it to you, then."

As he turned toward the boys’ wing, his smile faltered. (…Why did I say all that?)

For a moment, He squinted after her, brows furrowed. It was like she’d left a sunbeam in her wake.

Rellie moved swiftly down the hallway, her footsteps muffled against the worn wooden floor. The Third-Class dormitory was packed tight with students—unlike the sparse elite halls of First Class—each door marked with a small, fogged window.

She pressed close to the first door, peering through the glass. A girl slept soundly, oblivious. The next room—same. And the next.

(Why is everyone still asleep?)

Her fingers curled into fists. The entire academy was in chaos—shouting, fighting, the distant crash of Essentia—yet here, the air hung heavy and still, like the calm before a storm.

(This isn’t right.)

She quickened her pace, scanning each window for Sera’s face.

Then—

A flicker of movement. A shadow? A trick of the light?

Rellie’s dagger slid into her palm.

Something was very, very wrong

Then—light.

A single room glowed amber against the dim hallway, its door slightly ajar. Rellie slowed, peering inside.

Three girls sat cross-legged in a loose circle, their voices a murmur of laughter and shared secrets. One tossed a handful of nuts to another, catching them lazily. The scene was so casual, so utterly normal, it made Rellie’s skin prickle.

(…What?)

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She knocked—three sharp raps—and the tallest girl glanced up, her face breaking into a grin as she spotted Rellie through the window.

"Come in!" she called, waving her in with a flick of her wrist.

Rellie pushed the door open, the hinges creaking. "I’m sorry to interrupt," she said, but the apology died on her lips. The girls’ emotions washed over her—warm, languid, like honey dripping from a spoon. No fear. No tension. Just… contentment.

"Yeah, no problem," the tall girl replied, stretching to her feet. Her movements were fluid, unhurried.

Rellie’s eyes darted across the room. Three beds were rumpled, blankets tangled—but the fourth stood pristine, its sheets taut, pillow untouched.

She forced her attention back to the girls. "Aren’t you aware of what’s going on outside?" Her voice was sharper than she intended.

The two seated girls exchanged glances. One popped another nut into her mouth. "Oh, that?" she said, chewing. "We figured it’d sort itself out."

The tall girl shrugged, her voice dripping with casual indifference. "Besides, it’s not like they’d bother with us."

Rellie’s fingers brushed the hilt of her dagger, the cool metal a silent reassurance against the creeping wrongness of this room.

The smallest girl piped up, her voice light. "Plus, Sera asked us to stay here for the night."

The middle girl nodded, popping another nut into her mouth. "Yeah, told us not to worry about any of it."

Rellie’s breath hitched. "Do you know where she is?" The question came out sharper than she intended, her anxiety fraying the edges of her words.

The tall girl shook her head. "Nope." She stretched lazily. "She’s usually here when we go to sleep and when we wake up… but tonight, she just shook us awake, explained the situation, and left."

A beat of silence.

Then—

The smallest girl leaned toward the middle one, her whisper just loud enough to carry. "Hey… have you ever seen her sleep?"

The middle girl paused. Then shook her head.

The tall girl tilted her head, her offer warm but strangely weightless amidst the chaos outside. "Do you wanna stay with us? I’m sure there won’t be any problems here."

Rellie forced a polite smile. "No, thanks." The invitation was genuine—she could feel their sincerity—but it sat wrong in her chest. This wasn’t the time for casual sleepovers.

"Aight," the tall girl said, unfazed. "Come back if you need to. And if you see Sera…" She grinned, suddenly animated. "Tell her to grab some flour. We’re baking a cake this weekend."

Rellie nodded. "Sure." The normalcy of the request clashed violently with the rebellion raging beyond the door.

As she turned to leave, the middle girl’s voice floated after her:

"I thought it was Sera for a second. They give off, like… similar vibes. But different."

The smallest girl chewed her lip. "Yeah, but their eye colors don’t match, and-- " She trailed off, staring at the closed door. "I don’t know…"

The words died there. Some things couldn’t be pinned down.

The hallway stretched before Rellie, unnervingly still, the air thick with the same unnatural calm as before.

"What the hell is going on here?" Her whisper hung unanswered.

Then—

"HEY YOU!"

The shout shattered the silence. At the far end of the hall, Blare stood framed in the exit, his axe glinting in the dim light. "YOU’RE FIRST CLASS!"

His voice was raw with accusation.(Shit—I’m made.)

Behind him, Park materialized like a shadow, his shortsword flashing into his grip. "You tricked me!" His usual easygoing tone was gone, replaced by something colder.

Rellie froze. Two against one. And they blocked the only exit.

"Come on! Come here and fight!" Blare’s challenge echoed off the walls, but his boots didn’t move an inch.

Park’s sword trembled—not with fear, but with restrained aggression.

(Why aren’t they attacking?)

The standoff stretched, thirty seconds of taut silence, neither side advancing.

"Why aren’t you coming?!" Rellie finally snapped.

"That’s none of your business!" Park barked back.

The truth was invisible—the entire girls’ wing hummed with Essentia, a latent barrier woven into the very air. Rellie didn’t sense it. No one could sense it.

But the Second Years’ instincts screamed at them to stay back.

Whatever lurked in that hallway, they weren’t stepping foot in it.

The air suddenly thickened - not with Essentia this time, but with acrid white smoke that came pouring from the ceiling vents like a sudden fog. Rellie's eyes stung as the hallway dissolved into haze.

Then - a voice cut through the chaos.

"GRAB MY HAND!"

That raspy, determined tone - she'd know it anywhere. Ryn. The Second-Class boy who'd stood his ground against her in the entrance exams, who fought with that reckless courage she'd quietly admired.

She didn't hesitate. Rellie lunged toward the voice, her fingers stretching through the smoke until calloused fingers closed around her wrist with a grip like iron.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?!" Blare's roar of frustration vibrated through the fog, his axe thudding against the wall as he blindly swung at empty air.

The smoke swirled violently as Ryn yanked Rellie forward - then, as suddenly as it appeared, the haze dissipated.

Silence.

The hallway stood empty. No Rellie. No mysterious savior. Just two bewildered Second-Years staring at vacant space where their quarry had been.

Park's sword arm slowly lowered. "...Did we just get outplayed by smoke and a voice?"

Blare's axe dropped with a clang. "I hate First-Class tricks."