A month into his stay at Magicademy, Eleven had grown comfortable with his new life.

Dressed in the azure and cobalt blue robes of his house, he carried books in his arms as though he'd been born to life as a scholar. He chatted amicably with other students when morning classes let out, then bid his classmates a friendly goodbye and turned to head back toward Eiather tower.

But there was a reason he had yet to abandon his sword and carried it with him still. Eleven's peripheral drew his attention toward a familiar frame, body tensing as only a man knowing he was being hunted could. Surely, it wouldn't be..

Heart racing in his chest, Eleven's breath halted as his eyes fell on Hendrik for the first time in weeks. Disbelief speared through his limbs and his books tumbled out of his arms.

Why? For just a little while, his life had been peaceful, but it seemed that was now over.

His entire body yearned to flee, but he knew from experience that would only invite the knight to give chase, and he'd rather the other students weren't involved.

Eleven drew his sword and willed his hands to steady.