"Quite the entourage," Aston remarked calmly, noting their configuration. Stealth, raw force, and aerial sweep. An adaptable formation.

"Yours are sharper," Cyr replied, as he glanced at Mirage and Gray.

Gray flicked an ear in response.

Cyr chuckled. "He's got the eyes of something that's pretending to nap but already calculated your escape route."

Aston offered a thin smile. "He's cautious."

"As he should be. Especially with the kind of attention you're attracting lately."

A pause. Cyr's tone didn't sharpen—it softened, if anything. "I heard about the reawakening notice."

"I didn't ask for it," Aston said flatly.

"No, but the world rarely waits for permission." Cyr turned his body slightly, as if to obscure their exchange from prying ears. "There's someone who'd like a word. Nothing serious. Just a quick conversation."

Aston's brows rose slightly. "Who?"

"You'll see. It won't take more than a few minutes." Cyr said this casually, though his words carried more precision than they let on. "You won't be pressured. But it would be wise to meet them."

Aston glanced at Gray. The spirit beast said nothing, but his tail had tensed slightly.

Then Aston turned his gaze toward Cyr again, eyes narrowing faintly in thought.

There was no aggressive energy. No malicious aura. And Cyr—despite his reputation and power—stood respectfully, without arrogance. If this were a trap, it was an elaborate one with no clear gain.

Which made it… unlikely.

Besides, Aston had made it a habit to face things head-on.

"I'll follow," he said after a pause. "Lead the way."

"Good. It's nearby," Cyr replied, turning toward the eastern side of the courtyard, toward the old arboretum sector.

They moved in silence, with only the soft footfalls of spirit beasts and the breeze through the courtyard trees to accompany them.

Aston wondered to himself who awaited him.

He stole a glance on his side, to his senior, who is from the Expedition Reconnaissance Strand wondering what he is thinking.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

After passing all foundational subjects, a student may be able to pick a specialization in their second year in the school. For the Scouting Arts Division, one can choose to specialize in Expedition Reconnaissance, Sensorium and Environmental Tracking, Shadow Operations, Cartography and Spatial Analysis, Tactical Communications and Relay, Urban Reconnaissance, and Cognitive Reconnaissance.

Cyr is from the Expedition Reconnaissance Strand. This track focuses on long-range missions, outland exploration, hostile terrain navigation, solo endurance ops, and survival. This, topped with his fame, one can see Cyr's strength.

The Sensorium and Environmental Tracking Strand focuses on advanced detection of threats, aura patterns, energy signatures, weather and terrain shift.

The Shadow Operations Strand deals with covert infiltration, disguise, intelligence gathering, and sabotage.

Cartography and Spatial Analysis Strand centers on creating tactical maps, identifying terrain nodes, and battlefield shaping.

In the heart of Tactical Communications and Relay Strand lies inter-unit coordination, long-distance messaging, counter jamming, and field network setups.

The backbone of Urban Reconnaissance Strand lies in scouting within cities, towns, layered infrastructure, and active civilian zones.

Finally, the Cognitive Reconnaissance Strand focuses on analyzing the field data under stress, rapid risk assessments, ambush and multi-threat predictions.

When they reached the far end of the arboretum, Aston slowed.

The shaded glade was quiet. The fountains had long since dried, leaving only moss and spiraling root systems. There was no one in sight.

Aston blinked. "Is this—"

Before he could finish, a voice slipped through the still air like velvet over glass.

"Thank you for bringing him, Cyr. You may go now. I've already awarded you the mission credits."

The voice was calm. Low. It didn't command attention—it invited it.

Cyr turned his head slightly and gave Aston a brief nod. "She'll explain."

Then, without another word, he walked away, his spirit beasts disappearing one by one as he moved beyond the treeline.

A soft footstep echoed from behind a crumbling pillar.

And then she appeared.

She moved with the silence of silk. Her robe was forest green, hemmed with soft gold trim that shimmered with each movement. Her figure was graceful—strikingly so—and her features were impossibly refined: flawless skin, high cheekbones, and eyes like twin jade mirrors that seemed to see straight through posture and performance.

She was beautiful. Unquestionably.

But it was the kind of beauty that felt… calculated. As if her presence was designed to disarm.

Her hair—dark, long, and curled just enough—brushed the edge of her collarbone. And just below the edge of her robe, a shape slithered—a shadowed line that shimmered like mercury.

Aston's gaze sharpened.

A spirit beast. Coiled just beneath her robe's lining. Watching.

"Hello, Aston Rhyner," she said smoothly. "I've been meaning to meet you."

She stepped fully into view, her golden-trimmed robes marking her as one of the academy's Elders.

Specifically… an Elder of the Scouting Arts Division.

"Erin Drevane," she said with a slight bow of her head. "An elder under the Shadow Operations Strand. I specialize in information extraction, deception, and… social infiltration."

Then, with a playful curl to her lips: "But you already guessed that."

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