"Where… are we?" Elior whispered, eyes wide in wonder.
Gone were the white marble halls of the Academy. Before them stretched a silver-paved street lined with white cottages, their curved roofs shaped like angel wings. Above, ribbons of Ether floated lazily across the air — luminous bridges linking one house to another.
Lucen spun in place with a satisfied grin.
"This should be the western angelic quarter of Astra. See? I told you I got the coordinates right."
Alice crossed her arms. "Right? We almost got thrown off the island, Lucen."
Grinning, Lucen pulled a small worn piece of parchment from his pocket. As he brushed his fingers across it, golden light unfurled, forming a living map. Circles of light swirled gently, sketching the entire floating island in motion.
"Astra isn't just a city," Lucen said, eyes shining. "It exists because people once swore they'd never let it fall. My mother used to tell me — every breath here is a prayer carried from a thousand years ago."
The glowing map expanded, revealing immense walls encircling the city. The walls shimmered in pale gold, carved with ancient runes that flickered as though they were breathing souls.
"The Holy Wall," Lucen murmured. "A thousand years ago, one hundred and eight Ether Knights offered their souls to keep Astra afloat. Only one remains — the Sky Warden. He lives alone at the northern watchtower, where the winds never rest."
A low hum swept through the air — deep and metallic, like distant bells vibrating in Elior's chest. He shivered, unsure if from the chill or the thought of unseen spirits still guarding this place.
Lucen pointed toward the lower district. The map rippled and shifted — revealing rows of white-roofed homes, silver cobblestone paths, and bright shops selling robes, staffs, and ether-baked pastries. Bells chimed in rhythm, blending with the sweet scent of bread carried by the wind.
"This is the residential ring," Lucen explained. "Home to the descendants of ancient engineers and spellwrights. They still follow their forebears' craft — the Four Great Houses: Celestis, Infernalis, Vaticinus, and Sapientiae."
Alice tilted her head. "Like the four houses in the Academy?"
"Not coincidence," Lucen said softly. "Astra existed long before any academy. This is where it all began."
His tone carried a hint of pride — and sorrow. Elior gazed around: the floating lanterns, the mirrored rooftops, the steady pulse of light that seemed to breathe with the city itself. Astra felt alive.
They reached a second wall — smaller, but thicker, etched with layered sigils that pulsed faintly with power. Ether guards patrolled in silence, silver spears in hand, eyes fixed forward.
"The Boundary Wall," Lucen whispered. "Not to keep invaders out — but to keep secrets in. Beyond it lies the inner sanctum — where light and knowledge converge. Anyone who crosses without permission… will be taken by the Ether winds. Forever."
Elior looked up and saw threads of light weaving in the sky, forming a network of glowing veins — the heartbeat of Astra itself.
They passed through the training grounds, where massive stone platforms floated midair. Students practiced their spells in bursts of color and thunder. A small girl sneezed, and her broom exploded in a puff of smoke, sending laughter echoing through the courtyard.
"Careful," Lucen chuckled. "If you hear three explosions in a row, it means second-years are practicing summoning again. Last time, someone accidentally called forth a smoke serpent bigger than the city wall."
Alice giggled. "That sounds adorable."
"Until it wraps you in midair," Lucen replied dryly.
Crossing a radiant bridge, they finally reached the heart of the island.
Before them towered the Academy of Astra — a magnificent citadel of white and gold, domes gleaming beneath the clouds. From afar, it resembled an inverted lighthouse — its peak piercing the heavens, its base submerged in a sea of glowing Ether.
Elior stopped, breath caught in awe. Streams of light cascaded down the glass spires like waterfalls. Thousands of students moved across the grand courtyard below, their robes gleaming in every hue, their magic painting the air in luminous patterns.
Lucen's voice softened with reverence.
"Astra Academy — the heart of the city. The place where light was born… and where it might one day fade."
Elior's chest tightened. He remembered Beliar's words: The brighter the light, the hungrier the dark becomes.
He wondered — in a city so radiant, where did the shadows hide?
Lucen's gaze turned upward, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Beneath the tallest spire lies the Ether Core — the crystal heart that keeps Astra afloat. It beats like a living thing. Some say below it, there's a passage — leading to the Shadow Tier, where the souls of the old knights still patrol."
They fell silent. The wind carried a faint, echoing song — distant, ethereal, almost mournful.
Alice murmured, "Do you hear that? Someone's singing…"
Lucen nodded slowly. "That's them. The ones who vowed to keep Astra in the sky."
The three stood together, gazing out over the luminous city adrift among clouds. Light reflected in their eyes, their hair, their hearts. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if they stood on the edge of a dream.
Far above, the sun broke through the mist. Astra blazed like a gem in the sea of clouds. The Ether bells tolled — deep, eternal.
Lucen smiled faintly.
"They say if you close your eyes at the city's edge, you'll hear a whisper — 'We will never let it fall.'"
Elior looked toward the horizon, a quiet question stirring in his soul:
If the light ever falls… who will keep it shining?
The wind rose again, swirling around them. Clouds drifted across the sky like waves of silk.
And high above the world, Astra floated still — radiant, eternal, and full of secrets yet to awaken.