It was the evening of the third day—my arrival at the capital, Daehwa.

  A massive gate loomed ahead, guarded by soldiers in shining armor. Merchants passed in and out in steady waves, their carts full of fabrics, spices, and tools. Just outside the gates were rows of houses—modest homes belonging to the lower-class commoners.

  How did I know?

  Well… my eagle vision came in handy.

  As night drew near and I entered the capital, someone was already waiting for me. A woman dressed in soft pink stood by the gate. She looked elegant, her movements polite and practiced. Without a word, she led me through the streets and toward my new home for the next three years—Hwaeon Academy, the towering royal academy nestled deep within the Kingdom of Geumryang.

  That evening, I familiarized myself with my room and the building I’d be staying in.

  They called it the Royal Class Chamber. As expected, only sons and daughters of kings were allowed to live here.

  Of course, everyone was allowed to bring personal maids.

  I didn’t.

  Which meant I’d be doing everything myself.

  The room was quiet and clean. Outside, there weren’t many birds—aside from my falcon.

  The kitchen was neat and well-organized. I made myself dinner, though it reminded me how much I missed my lovers’ cooking… hhh.

  After bathing, I changed into my sleeping robe and sat quietly for a while.

  Memories flooded in—my servants, my Eomeoni, my Appa… my three lovers.

  I looked down at the three embroidered handkerchiefs.

  Too precious to use.

  I pressed them close to my chest, along with the gifts from my mother and lovers, and laid down.

  The night was silent.

  No birds. No wind. No rustling trees.

  Just peace.

  The next morning, I woke to the sound of the academy’s bell.

  I bathed, made myself breakfast, and dressed in my royal red robe. Then I headed out.

  The streets were alive. Students flooded the roads. Street performers juggled and danced. Food stalls steamed with fresh dumplings and fried rice cakes. Merchants shouted prices for fine cloth and jewelry.

  The academy’s gates were huge—tall enough to defend against siege towers.

  This kingdom was built like it expected war.

  The campus grounds were clean. Trees swayed gently. Birds perched on the rooftops.

  Students hurried to class—nobles, mostly. Children of ministers. There weren’t any commoners.

  Not here.

  In my kingdom, Yeonhwa, we had no schools. But when I return in three years…

  I’ll build one.

  For both commoners and officials.

  Inside the grand hall, five teachers stood before us. Each one represented a pillar of this kingdom.

  The first stepped forward. His voice was strong and direct. A sword rested against his back.

  “My name is Hwarang. I am a swordsman of this kingdom. My duty is to teach you discipline and the blade.”

  Next was a familiar face—the woman who had guided me to my chamber the night before.

  “I am Lady Mireun,” she said with a graceful bow. “Your history and ethics instructor.”

  Sharp-witted. Agile.

  She looked like someone trained to kill—but chose to teach instead.

  The third instructor yawned as he stepped forward. His robe was wrinkled, his beard long.

  “Gudo,” he said simply. “Strategy, maps, war. Try not to fall asleep.”

  He looked lazy. But there was something about him—like an old veteran who only acted like a fool.

  Then came a tall man in dark robes.

  “Danji,” he said calmly. “I study magic. I will teach you its theory and origins.”

  His voice was low and steady. Mysterious.

  The kind of man who seemed to know more than anyone else—and chose his words carefully.

  Lastly, a woman with a warm, motherly smile stepped forward.

  “I am Madam Bae. I’ll be teaching you beast mastery—how to earn the trust of creatures wild and magical. They may become your allies… or your enemies.”

  Her tone was kind. Blunt.

  The kind of person who respected students only after they earned it.

  My first class… would be with Madam Bae.

  The morning air was sharp with dew.

  The academy’s beast field was wide and enclosed, ringed with stone pillars wrapped in climbing moss. Cages lined the edge—each one holding a creature more aware than the nobles watching them.

  A fox spirit paced in a rune-sealed pen. A silver hawk clicked its beak behind enchanted bars. Small things—but not simple.

  Madam Bae stood in the center, arms crossed.

  “Today, we test your affinity,” she said. “You’ll each approach a spirit creature. No force. No spells. No charms. Only presence.”

  Nobles muttered. A few chuckled.

  They didn’t understand.

  “You may begin.”

  The first boy marched toward a fox—back straight, jaw high.

  He bowed stiffly, reached in—

  Snap.

  The fox bit his sleeve and bolted into the cage wall.

  “It’s cursed!” he yelped.

  A girl tried coaxing a hawk with sweet talk and perfume. The hawk flared its wings and shot skyward, shrieking.

  Student after student failed. Some were ignored. Some hissed at. One even got peed on by a boar.

  Then her voice cut through the noise.

  “You. Yeonhwa’s prince.”

  Madam Bae’s eyes were on me now.

  “Let’s see what silence can do.”

  I stepped forward.

  No one spoke as I approached the small white fox, curled near the cage’s edge. Its fur was tipped in red, and its eyes were too calm for something born in a cage.

  I didn’t speak.

  Didn’t kneel right away.

  Just stood there—until the wind between us stilled.

  Then—

  System Nova Activated

  [Target Acquired: Spirit Beast – Fox Variant]

  [Initiating Passive Sync Attempt…]

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  I exhaled and slowly lowered to one knee. The fox twitched its ears but didn’t move.

  System Nova:

  “No fear response. No defensive pulse. Curious…”

  [No aura manipulation detected. Emotional link forming organically.]

  I extended a hand. Not forward. Just open.

  The fox tilted its head once. Then twice. Then—

  It walked to me.

  Brushed against my palm.

  Sat down at my side.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd behind me.

  I heard a few stumble back. One dropped a book.

  System Nova:

  [Spirit Bond Established: Tier I – Emotional Familiar]

  [Beast selected user voluntarily. No spiritual draw required.]

  A pause. Then:

  “Master Jinseo… This should not be possible.”

  The fox licked my thumb. Its fur was warm.

  “Why?” I asked quietly in my head.

  Nova:

  “Because it didn’t respond to dominance.

  It responded to what you carry.”

  “It remembered you—even if you’ve never met.”

  Footsteps behind me.

  “Taming on the first try?” Ryu Seohan’s voice, clipped and cold. “You’re not even surprised.”

  “He didn’t tame it,” Jo Wonyul murmured. “He was… chosen.”

  “Fox knew real warmth when it saw it,” said Ban Taesung. “Damn.”

  I didn’t respond. Just kept my fingers resting gently on the creature’s fur.

  System Nova:

  [Passive Skill Upgrade: Animal Tamer Tier I → Tier II]

  [Title Acquired: Ash Whisperer – “He who carries the flame even animals trust.”]

  I whispered so low only the fox heard me.

  “You’re safe now.”

  The fox blinked once.

  And didn’t move.

  The fox spirit settled beside me, tail brushing lightly over my foot.

  I didn’t smile. Didn’t move.

  System Nova:

  [Bond Confirmed: Emotional Tier I — Spirit Beast: Fox]

  [Skill Advancement Triggered: Animal Tamer Tier I → Tier II]

  I barely noticed the noise behind me.

  But I felt their eyes.

  “Well…”

  Madam Bae’s voice broke through the silence.

  “That was unexpected. Who’s next?”

  A familiar voice stepped forward.

  “I’ll try,” said Ryu Seohan.

  He walked calmly toward a sleek silver hawk spirit. It shifted on its perch, wings twitching.

  He didn’t hesitate. No charm. No fear.

  He stood tall—didn’t kneel like I had.

  Just locked eyes with the hawk… and raised his arm.

  The bird stared back.

  Then opened its wings.

  And landed on his shoulder.

  Gasps again. But less than before.

  System Nova:

  [Observation: Crown Prince of Geumryang — Ryu Seohan]

  [Result: Successful Bond – Status: Command Alignment]

  “That one leads by blood. The beast acknowledged power… not warmth.”

  Then Wonyul stepped forward. Quiet. Hands behind his back.

  He approached a lean spirit panther—smaller than full grown, but sharp-eyed and wary.

  He sat cross-legged before it.

  Said nothing.

  Waited.

  After a long pause, the panther walked toward him—slowly—and laid down beside him like a shadow come to rest.

  “Interesting,” Madam Bae said under her breath.

  System Nova:

  [Observation: Jo Wonyul – Prince of Yuhwa]

  [Result: Successful Bond – Status: Mirrored Presence]

  “He reflects what others feel. The beast felt itself in him.”

  Ban Taesung whistled and laughed.

  “Guess it’s my turn, huh?”

  He approached a restless spirit boar—stomping, twitching, clearly annoyed.

  Taesung didn’t talk. He just bowed low.

  Real low. Palms flat to the ground.

  The boar watched him, snorted once… and then trotted over and nudged his shoulder with its tusk.

  Taesung grinned.

  “We’re gonna be great friends, buddy.”

  System Nova:

  [Observation: Ban Taesung – Prince of Garan]

  [Result: Successful Bond – Status: Earned Respect]

  “His power lies in humility. The creature saw no threat, only invitation.”

  I watched them. All three.

  Each successful in their own way.

  Each different.

  But none of them had a fox curled beside them… without a single word spoken.

  None of them had fire still breathing beneath their ribs.

  The class buzzed. Nobles whispered.

  And the instructors?

  They were taking notes.

  The fox spirit lay curled at my side, tail twitching as it rested.

  I didn’t pet it. Just kept my hand near its fur.

  The murmurs hadn’t stopped. I could feel them pressing against my back like wind through trees. But I ignored them.

  Then I heard the footsteps—steady, approaching. Not hesitant. Not hostile.

  Just measured.

  I looked up slightly.

  The three princes stood before me.

  Ryu Seohan stepped forward first.

  Still holding the hawk perched on his shoulder. Its feathers glinted silver in the sun.

  “You didn’t speak once. Yet you were the first to succeed.”

  His tone wasn’t mocking. Just… assessing.

  “I’m Ryu Seohan. Crown Prince of Geumryang.”

  He didn’t extend a hand. But he gave a short bow—tight, formal.

  “I’ll be watching you closely.”

  Jo Wonyul came next. His spirit panther padded behind him, moving like a shadow stitched to his heels.

  “You have the kind of silence that unsettles people,” he said. “I respect that.”

  He studied me with sharp, almost analytical eyes.

  “Jo Wonyul. Prince of Yuhwa. Some say I study people too much. You? I haven’t figured out yet.”

  Then came Ban Taesung, still brushing dust off his tunic where the boar had shoved him playfully.

  “You’re scary, you know that?” he grinned. “Like… in a good way.”

  He didn’t bother with formality. Just nodded.

  “Ban Taesung. Prince of Garan. If you ever want to spar or sneak out past curfew, I’m your guy.”

  They were all different.

  Powerful in their own way.

  But right now?

  They all stood in front of me, not above me.

  I gave a nod.

  “Jinseo. Yeonhwa.”

  That’s all I said.

  For a moment, the four of us stood in silence—fox, hawk, panther, and boar all settled at our sides.

  The other students watched from a distance, wondering what had just formed here.

  And I wondered too.

  Not if they’d be friends.

  But if they’d survive long enough in this class that’s all it matter.

  My next class was with Scholar Danji.

  We gathered in a dimly lit hall, the walls lined with ancient scrolls and ink-stained books. In the middle of class, he began to speak—slow, steady, his voice echoing through the quiet room.

  “Magic,” Danji said, “is a topic riddled with lies and pride. Some say it’s born of hard study and years of focus. Others…” —his gaze swept the room— “say it was given to humanity by something older. Something forgotten.”

  That stirred something in me.

  I’d always wondered—how did humans come to possess magic?

  “Magic is a gift,” Danji continued, “and once given… it cannot be taken away.”

  “Some of you tamed beasts in your first class. If so, you likely have a natural affinity. That means you carry magical potential, whether you feel it or not. For those who didn’t—do not fear. With discipline and training, all things come in time.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Didn’t need to.

  I already had magic.

  But I had no reason to show it off.

  By the end of our second class, we headed to lunch.

  A massive canopy shaded the dining courtyard.

  Maids served the food—each dish tested beforehand by eunuchs to ensure its safety. Everything was orderly, clean, strict.

  Students sat around large tables, excitedly discussing the magic lecture. They whispered about essence, power, and unlocking their gifts. I remained quiet.

  I had nothing to prove.

  Then the three princes approached me and sat nearby.

  Ryu Seohan was the first to speak—cold and confident, as always.

  “That last class… Magic. What do you think?”

  “I tamed a beast. I can feel it—I’m close to awakening my magical essence.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Just listened.

  All three of them had tamed a spirit creature earlier. That alone proved their potential. I had no doubt they’d each awaken their magic in time.

  I watched quietly as they spoke, their words filled with ambition.

  After lunch, we headed to our next class—Master Hwarang.

  He stood in the training yard, posture straight, arms crossed, sword resting at his back. His body was lean and powerful. No wasted motion.

  “Today,” he began, “we’ll talk about physical strength. About the human body.”

  “Swordsmanship demands more than just will. It requires speed, endurance, and control. If you limit what your body can do, that’s all it will ever do. But if you break those limits—”

  He smiled faintly.

  “You become something more.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  But he also didn’t know just how far the body could go.

  Later, Master Hwarang demonstrated a sword technique.

  He stepped forward, exhaled, and imbued his blade with a spark of magic. With one clean slash, he cut a boulder in half—like slicing through butter.

  The class gasped. The three princes leaned forward, eyes wide with awe.

  I didn’t react.

  I’d done the same before.

  Hwarang glanced at our stunned faces, nodding once. Then he led us on a tour of the training field and the weaponry stores.

  Class ended shortly after.

  Our final class of the day was with Old Man Gudo.

  His classroom was cluttered—scrolls stacked like walls, maps rolled out across old wooden tables. The air smelled of dust, ink, and candle wax.

  He didn’t stand. Just waved a hand lazily.

  “Today,” he muttered, “we’re talking about land. Territory. How to understand the space you occupy.”

  “You think maps matter? You think kings draw borders?”

  He scoffed.

  “Real rulers know where they are. If you don’t, you lose before you even start.”

  I smirked a little.

  “I can see from above just fine,” I thought.

  “Thanks to my eagle.”

  The lesson was fine. He spoke of landmarks, rivers, terrain advantages.

  It made sense.

  But I wasn’t really focused.

  I missed home.

  I missed my Eomeoni. My Appa.

  My lovers.

  Class ended.

  I returned to my dorm room, cooked dinner for myself, and sat by the window.

  I sat alone by the paper lantern in my chamber—its soft light casting slow shadows across the scrolls beside me.

  A knock came at the door.

  Not a guard. Not a prince.

  Just a courier.

  He bowed, placed a sealed letter on the table, and left without a word.

  I stared at it for a moment.

  Three seals, carefully pressed into the wax.

  One rose. One daisy. One orchid.

  I broke it open. Slowly.

  Inside were three folded slips of paper. Each one written in a different hand.

  Hana’s Letter – The Fire in His Heart

  Jinseo,

  I miss yelling at you for staying out too late. I miss standing outside your chamber, pretending not to worry when I was dying inside.

  The palace feels cold without your stubborn warmth. Even the sun rises slower, I think.

  I hope the academy is terrified of you.

  I hope you’re not eating too fast.

  And I hope you’re keeping that promise you made… because I’m counting the days.

  Come back strong.

  Come back mine.

  Always your flame,

  Hana

  P.S. Baekho’s still scaring the maids.

  Yura’s Letter – The Mind Behind the Crown

  Jinseo,

  We’ve been lighting a lantern for you every night. One each, always three.

  The Queen Mother watches with quiet pride. Your father simply sharpens his blade. You know how they are.

  I’ve kept your records in order. I’ve been preparing letters to the heads of other kingdoms, just in case you make new friends… or enemies.

  But don’t forget:

  You are not alone in this. Every step you take forward, we are walking behind you.

  Return not just stronger—but wiser.

  With steady grace,

  Yura

  Mirae’s Letter – The Light in His Darkest Hours

  Seoooo~

  I miss your sulky face when I stole your rice buns.

  I miss that tiny smile you only show when no one’s looking.

  The boys you trained still talk about you like you’re some kind of hero. (They’re right.)

  Joon says he wants to write you a poem. He made me promise I’d tell you that.

  I’ve been planting flowers again. Orchids. Red ones, like the ribbon I wore.

  When you come home… I want you to laugh again.

  Don’t let that academy turn you to stone, okay?

  We’re still your light.

  With love, always,

  Mirae

  P.S. We still say “?? ? ???” together every night.

  I folded the letters back with care.

  Sat in silence for a long while.

  Then whispered into the quiet:

  “I’ll come back stronger.”

  “I’ll come back… alive.”

  The night draw as my eyes were tire, and stood up and and set down to write a letters for my lovers and my family. The lantern flickered low. “With a silent beat of its wings, my falcon soared into the twilight—letter in its grasp, destined for those I hold dear.”

  Letters folded. Voices sealed in ink.

  Outside, the wind rustled through the courtyard trees. The fox spirit lay at my side, breathing steady, like it too had finally stopped running.

  I sat by the window, watching the stars peek through the clouds. Not a single one looked like the skies over Yeonhwa.

  But I held those memories in my hands now.

  A sword. A phoenix. Three flowers. Five voices.

  They were not fading.

  They were waiting.

  I touched the window, eyes fixed on the dark horizon.

  “I’m not just going to return.”

  “I’m going to make sure the world knows where I came from.”