Caled led Aifi into the house, the wooden door creaking softly as it closed behind them. The air was still warm from the morning light, but there was a crispness to the air inside, the smell of fresh coffee and bread already filling the room.
Argin was busy at the stove, his movements steady and practiced. The clinking of ceramic mugs and the quiet hum of a conversation in the next room added to the peaceful atmosphere that Caled had come to cherish. As he stepped further inside, he motioned toward the table, where a pair of mugs sat ready.
They sat opposite of each other.
Aifi took a slow sip from her coffee, her eyes scanning the room briefly before focusing on Caled.
"I have to admit, I didn't picture the embodiment of wrath settling into something so... quiet."
Caled leaned back in his chair, arms crossed casually as he gave her a long look.
"And yet, here we are."
She smiled faintly, but the weight of her words lingered in the air.
"It's strange, isn't it? How someone with your history could live so... peacefully."
"I make it work," Caled said, his voice low but even. "Now, what brings the Head of the Magic Association to a place like this?"
Aifi put her coffee down, eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him.
"I imagine you've heard about the changes sweeping through the continent?"
"Keeping up with news is easy enough. I'm well aware of what's going on."
His gaze stayed on her, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his mug.
Aifi's lips twitched, a hint of amusement hiding behind the seriousness in her eyes.
"And yet you're here, far from it all, hiding away in this little corner of the world."
"Peace is better than chaos," Caled muttered, more to himself than to her. Then, more focused: "But you still haven't told me what you're really after."
She met his gaze with unflinching calm.
"I came to offer you a job."
Caled's brows furrowed, his interest piqued but his tone still casual.
"I'm retired. Done with that life. No more heroics, no more titles. It's behind me."
"I'm not asking you to fight again."
For a moment, Caled said nothing. The silence between them stretched, and just when it seemed like he'd shut her down completely, he tilted his head slightly.
"Then what do you want?"
Aifi's eyes flickered with something unspoken.
"I can't handle all of the magic academies on my own, Caled. Not anymore. I need someone I can trust, someone who understands what's at stake."
Caled leaned forward, his posture relaxed but his mind sharp.
"There are plenty of people who can take on that kind of responsibility. Why me?"
Her voice dropped, becoming more serious.
"Because we're not just talking about any schools. These academies shape the future. They're training the most powerful women this world has ever known. One wrong decision and it could bring darkness for centuries. I can't do it alone."
Caled considered her words carefully, his fingers tapping absently on the table.
"There's a whole system set up to handle this. You don't need to put all of it on my shoulders."
Aifi shook her head, leaning in just a little.
"This is more complicated than you think. These are the future leaders of Acridia. They need someone who can guide them, protect them from their own mistakes. Someone who understands the weight of power."
He was quiet for a moment, his thoughts turning over slowly in his mind.
"What exactly are you offering me?"
Aifi's gaze was steady, unwavering.
"The position of Archscholar. You'd have full jurisdiction over every all-girls magic academy in Acridia."
Caled let out a small laugh, shaking his head.
"You're serious? You want me to take control of all of that? That's a joke."
Aifi's expression didn't change, though a hint of something like admiration flickered in her eyes.
"You're the only one who could handle it. The only one I trust to do it right. And it's not just about power. It's about making sure the future is in safe hands."
Caled didn't answer immediately, his gaze drifting to the window, lost in thought. The silence was thick now, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The weight of her words settled around them.
Aifi stood up, her chair scraping slightly against the floor.
"I know you're not the same person you were back then," she said quietly, stepping toward the door. "But I still remember when we fought side by side during the demon invasion. We were a team. Together, we brought peace."
Caled's eyes darkened for a split second, but he quickly masked it, his voice steady.
"That was a long time ago."
Aifi paused at the door, her eyes gleaming with that familiar, mischievous spark.
"And yet, I still think you'd be a great fit. You once dreamed of becoming a professor, didn't you?"
A small smirk tugged at Caled's lips, though it didn't reach his eyes.
Aifi's gaze softened. "Retirement doesn't suit you."
Caled shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't matter."
Aifi's smile lingered, but she didn't say anything more. She raised her hand, speaking an incantation under her breath. The magic in the air shifted, and she began to fade, her form dissolving into the soft glow of teleportation.
"If you change your mind," she called out as she vanished, her voice lingering like a promise, "find me in Viera. I'll be waiting."
•••••
Caled moved through his daily routine, the steady rhythm of his work on the farm grounding him. His hands moved mechanically, planting seeds, adjusting the irrigation, and tending to the fields as if his body had memorized the motions over the years.
But his mind? It wandered. Aifi's words echoed in the back of his thoughts, the offer she'd made hanging there like a weight he couldn't shake.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the land, Caled's mind stayed restless. He tried to focus on the simple tasks before him, the feel of the earth beneath his hands, the quiet hum of nature around him, but it was impossible.
Her offer, her insistence, had left a mark on him. It wasn't about the position. It wasn't about power. It was the responsibility, the challenge.
By the time the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Caled was still there, sitting on the porch, staring out at the fields. His thoughts circled, replaying Aifi's words, the weight of the responsibility she had placed on him.
But there was something else too, a strange tug he hadn't expected. It had been years since he'd felt that kind of pull—a purpose beyond the quiet life he'd built here.
It wasn't just the duty to guide these young women, to shape the future of Acridia. It was something deeper, a reminder of the man he once was, the dreams he had buried along with his past.
Caled didn't notice Argin's approach until the old man's voice cut through the quiet.
"You know," Argin started, leaning against the post by the door, "you've always been a good teacher. Everything I know, you passed on. Even when you didn't mean to. You were always meant to be one."
Caled didn't look up. His fingers tightened slightly around the cup he held, but he said nothing at first. Argin's words settled in his mind, and the weight of them clicked with the thoughts he'd been battling all evening.
"I don't know if I'm ready," Caled finally muttered, his voice low. "It's been too long."
Argin was silent for a moment, then spoke again, his voice softer this time.
"It's not about being ready. It's about what feels right. And if anyone can make it work, it's you."
The quiet settled between them once more, and Caled found himself nodding slowly. In that silence, a decision solidified inside him, something that had been building all evening.
The next morning, Caled packed his things in the early hours of the day. He moved quietly through the house, gathering only what he needed—clothes, a few tools, some food for the journey ahead. The bag felt heavier than usual, but not in a way that made him hesitate. He knew where he was headed.
Argin and his family were already outside, waving at him as he stepped out of the house for what would be the last time. There was no fanfare, no long speeches. Just the quiet understanding between them. Argin's smile was warm, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, as if he knew what this meant—both for Caled and for their home.
"Good luck," Argin called out.
Caled gave a small, almost imperceptible nod in response before turning his back on the farm he had called home for over a century.
He walked toward the dirt path that led beyond the trees, his eyes set on the horizon, his thoughts on the road ahead. His destination? Viera. The capital of Acridia. The heart of magic.
The place that would change everything.