"Who made this?" Sylas asked, his voice quiet but sharp.

Avin looked at him. "You know what this is?"

"Yes." Sylas's gaze didn't move from the half-erased pattern. "But nobody outside my family should know it."

Avin crouched beside him, and Henry followed suit. The earth smelled faintly of burnt iron.

"This is an ancient pattern made by my family," Sylas continued, his tone low, careful. "It's encrypted—no one else should even be able to recognize it."

Avin's eyes narrowed. "What's it used for?"

Sylas reached toward the small pouch of ash left on the ground. "Summoning."

"Summoning?" Henry echoed, his curiosity peaking.

Sylas nodded. "It's a channeling circle. Used to summon something that's been sent into a separate spatial field—an isolated pocket where no one can reach."

So… magical mail? Avin thought, half-smirking at the absurd practicality of it. A postman from another dimension.

"Our family used this during wars and sieges," Sylas said, his fingers tracing the ruined lines. "To transfer materials, messages, or artifacts safely between fortified positions. It's efficient… and secure."

"I see," Avin murmured. "Then what was this guy trying to summon?"

Henry's eyes gleamed. "Let's find out."

Sylas didn't hesitate. He poured the remaining ash from the pouch, filling in the lines Avin had smeared out. The moment the pattern reconnected, a faint hum pulsed through the air—then a sudden blue light ignited from the ground, spreading across the circle like liquid flame.

Avin and Henry both jumped back, shielding their eyes. Sylas stayed crouched, his expression calm but focused as the glow intensified—then abruptly faded.

When the light finally dimmed, something rested at the center of the circle.

"An envelope?" they all said in unison.

It was perfectly ordinary-looking: white, sealed with a blood-red stamp. It lay there on the grass, almost innocent.

"What do you think is in it?" Henry asked, reaching toward it.

Avin's instincts screamed. A warning sparked in his chest. Without thinking, he allowed the flow of mana from his heart to surge into his eyes. They flared crimson, vision sharpening, and in that instant he saw it—threads of glowing red energy swirling around the wax seal like veins of fire.

The glow expanded, pulsing dangerously.

"Put it back!" Avin shouted.

Henry froze mid-grab, startled, but Avin was already moving. He yanked the envelope out of Henry's hand and threw it away. The moment it left his grasp—

BOOM!

A burst of pressure rippled outward. Dirt kicked up. The sound wasn't deafening, but it was violent enough that if Henry had still been holding it, he might've lost the hand—or worse.

The three of them ducked behind their arms as dust rolled through the air.

Sylas coughed. "What the hell was that?!"

Avin stood slowly, eyes glowing faintly red. "I saw it—there was explosive energy wrapped around the seal."

Sylas stared at him. "You can see mana?"

Avin didn't answer. He stepped forward, pushing through the haze until the smoke began to thin.

There, lying on the scorched patch of grass, was the same envelope. Completely intact.

"What the—?" Henry said softly.

"Was this meant as an assassination attempt?" Sylas muttered, lowering himself slightly.

"I don't think so," Henry said, his voice uncertain. "That blast wasn't strong enough to kill anyone—it felt more like a warning."

Sylas hesitated as Avin and Henry both started moving toward it again. "What if it explodes again?"

"It won't," Avin said confidently, his crimson glow fading back to normal. "The energy's gone."

He knelt, reached out carefully, and picked up the envelope. When nothing happened, he tore it open. Inside was a folded sheet of parchment, its surface covered in strange symbols and unfamiliar writing.

Avin frowned. "...What the hell is this supposed to say?"

He handed it to Sylas.

Sylas studied the symbols closely, but his expression stayed blank. "I don't know. It's written in something I've never seen."

Henry leaned in eagerly. "Let me see that."

He took the parchment, eyes scanning line by line, muttering to himself. "I recognize maybe fifteen percent of these… it'll take time to decipher."

When he looked up, his whole face was glowing with excitement.

Avin stared at him, unimpressed. "Why do you look like you just won the lottery?"

Henry folded the paper neatly and slipped it into his pocket. "Because I kind of did! This'll be my first real decipher! Don't you get it?"

Sylas crossed his arms. "Shouldn't we give that to a professor instead? This could be dangerous."

Avin thought about it. It made sense—handing over a suspicious magical letter would earn trust and probably keep them out of trouble. But before he could speak, Henry was already waving his hands.

"Hold on, hold on," Henry said quickly. "Do you realize the kind of reward we could get if we crack it ourselves? Think about it—if we expose a real threat and decipher their message, we'd be guaranteed entry into the academy, maybe even a higher class ranking!"

Avin blinked at him. "You're assuming a lot."

Henry ignored him, talking faster, his energy infectious. "Besides, who would even believe us if we said there's some shady assassin sneaking around the most secure academy on the continent? They'd laugh at us! But if we find out what's in this—if it's important—we'll have proof."

Avin sighed internally. He's loud… but damn, he's persuasive.

"Ugh. Whatever," he said finally, rubbing the back of his head.

Sylas looked between the two of them, then shrugged. "Fine. Just don't blow us up again."

They left the clearing, passing through the south gate and back into the academy grounds. The faint scent of burnt grass trailed behind them.

"Wanna meet my teammates?" Sylas asked as they entered the courtyard.

"Sure, why not," Avin said. "It's not like I can go back to that prince's place anyway."

"I'll catch up later," Henry said suddenly, already turning down another path.

Avin frowned. "Wait—" he pointed, realizing where that path led. "Isn't that the direction where—"

Henry glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. "He'll be mad if I don't report to him. Can't ruin my plan now, can I?"

And just like that, he turned the corner and vanished.

Avin stared after him, baffled. "…He's so weird," he muttered.

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