The crystal rolled through Lena's hands until it struck the wood, the image freezing on the last scene of blood and snow before disappearing.
"— Hey!"
Some students protested, leaning forward.
" Did anyone get those two…?"
" What the hell was that conversation?"
" What did the giant and the old man say...? Does anyone know...?"
Hans raised his hand, calm.
" Settle down, everyone —"
he said in a firm tone, but without harshness. "— Miss Lena's mana has run out, and besides, I honestly couldn't care less about what our enemy said."
That's not what you should be worried about.
Lena was breathing heavily, her skin pale, fingers trembling.
She had held the projection beyond the limit — no one, not even herself, wanted the fight to end without knowing the grim outcome. But now, her body was demanding its toll.
Even so, it wasn't just exhaustion that made her shake.
She understood the Northern tongue.
Every word Pavel had spoken.
"Master… Then why didn't he intervene? Why did he let his comrade die? Why did the old man walk to his death willingly… and why did the bear accept that fate as if it were an honor?"
The questions burned in her mind like embers.
Hans tapped the chalk against the board, breaking off the escalating discussions.
" Very well, everyone. I think we've seen enough for today."
his voice carried a rare solemnity.
" What I want from you is simple: list the mistakes made by the two winged ones and the mistakes made by the Northern people. Then, develop strategies on how you would deal with an enemy like that in the field."
A chorus of sighs spread through the room. Everyone knew how different Hans's classes were: he was one of the few teachers who dared to show the enemy winning. Most of the time, the lessons were one-sided — easy victories for the Empire. But not that day.
Hans picked up the now dark crystal.
"As I said at the beginning, I'll leave two books with you. Read them before the next class."
He paused, adjusting his glasses.
" Unfortunately, I'll have to be away for a few days."
Disappointment was immediate, expressed in looks and murmurs. He gave a small, almost paternal smile.
"Don't worry. The headmistress will teach in my place."
And then, in a lower voice, heavy with irony:
" I just hope you go easy on rooting for the enemy… I don't mind. But inside these walls, not everyone thinks like I do. If you catch my drift."
Chairs scraped, students began dispersing in groups — some still debating the scene as if it were a play, others silent, digesting the horror.
" Lena."
Hans called, not raising his voice much. Even so, the entire front row heard.
A murmur spread. Lena was always the one picked for the teachers' "extra tasks." Some classmates turned up their noses in envy, others smiled smugly, remembering the status gap between them and the girl from the outskirts.
" Good luck, Lena."
said Frida, leaning over her desk.
" I'll wait for you outside. I'll ask the driver to take you home early today."
Lena returned a faint smile. She was still as white as the snow that had just been projected.
" Thank you, Frida… I owe you one."
" Don't worry about it." — her friend replied sincerely.
Hans waited, the now darkened crystal on the table, as Lena approached. Deep down, she still felt the echo of Pavel's final words burning in her mind.
Lena could barely keep her posture. Her legs trembled, tired from the projection.
Hans cleared his throat, expression heavy, as if every word were a burden.
" Miss Lena… I wanted to have a more serious conversation with you."
She straightened, heart racing.
"Yes, Mr. Hans. Do you need my help with something?"
He hesitated, fingers lightly tapping the table.
" I know you have the desire to become a winged one."
" Yes, sir."
she replied immediately, almost without thinking.
" It's my greatest dream."
Hans sighed. His gaze said more than words ever could.
" With your grades and technical ability, you would be more than capable of being one of the selected. However… there's a problem."
Lena already knew the answer before he said it. Her throat tightened.
" I'm not a noble… right?"
Hans lowered his eyes.
" Yes. I had access to your qualification score. You're among the top three in the entire school. But… your delicate situation will cause you to be disqualified."
Silence fell like a stone. Lena looked away, eyes brimming, and murmured with a choked voice:
" I understand, Mr. Hans… Thank you for letting me know."
She lifted her chin, anger and sorrow burning together in her chest. Her heart only begged to run, to flee before the weight of injustice crushed her. She took two steps toward the door when, suddenly, Hans's voice cut through like lightning.
" Well… I'm sad to know you think I asked you to stay after the others just to tell you that."
" Actually, I can help you get selected."
Lena froze. The words pounded in her mind like a drum — a call impossible to ignore. A chance. Small, remote, maybe insane — but a chance.
She turned, eyes wide, lips trembling with hope.
" What do I have to do, sir? What do I need… to make my dream come true?"
Hans gave an awkward smile, uncomfortable.
" Well… the way you say it makes it sound like I'm doing you a favor."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice, as if guarding a dangerous secret.
" Actually, what I'm going to ask you is madness. But… it's the only chance you'll have."
Lena clenched her fists, her heart beating like a war drum.
" I'm listening."
__________________________________
The wheels of the carriage creaked over the uneven cobblestones. Lena watched the movement distractedly, her eyes fixed on the horses passing by, her body sunk into the seat as if every bone weighed like lead.
" We've arrived, Miss Lena." — said the man, pulling the reins.
" Thank you very much, Mr. Karl."
" Don't thank me. It's always a pleasure to help a friend of Miss Frida's."
The smile she returned was brief, polite — but empty. As soon as she stepped down, her soul felt even heavier than the backpack on her shoulders.
" Look who's here! Guys, it's Lena!"
Some boys appeared from the dark corners, their clothes torn, feet dirty with grime and mud. The contrast with Lena's spotless uniform was stark, almost cruel. Even so, she gave them a sincere smile upon seeing them.
" Hello, boys… Sorry, I didn't see you there. Wait a moment."
she said, opening her backpack.
From inside, she pulled out pieces of cake and sweets wrapped in fine linen — leftovers stolen from the cafeteria.
" Here. Share them properly."
" Thanks, Auntie Lena!"
they shouted in unison, running down the cold street with their treasures in hand.
The children's laughter echoed until it faded around the corner. But the surrounding scene remained unchanged: cracked walls, the smell of mold, the weight of a forgotten neighborhood.
The sun was already hiding behind the twisted rooftops, and the light seemed to fade into the shadows of the alleys.
She moved through narrow alleys where the damp stone smelled of mold and the smoke from chimneys mixed with the odor of forgotten trash. Every corner felt like a maze, every turn reminded her where she came from and how different she was from those she studied with at school.
Finally, after crossing three increasingly shadowed alleys, she reached a crooked street where her house stood. A simple structure, of tired wood, but still standing with dignity. The walls creaked with the wind, but remained firm.
She took a deep breath, heart pounding from the walk, and pushed the door, which gave way as if it were crying.
" Mom… I'm home!"
The reply came low, fragile, almost dissolved by the silence of the house:
" I'm here, dear…"
A smile bloomed on Lena's face, even with tearful eyes. She crossed the creaking floor until she reached the bedroom.
The woman lay in bed, her skin reddened from fever, her features worn by illness. Yet even so, when she smiled, it seemed to light up the room. There was life in that expression — life that defied the body's fragility.
" Come, sit here by your mother. Tell me everything that happened today."
" Yes, Mom. But first… let's eat together."
Lena carefully opened another bundle and took out some savory snacks hidden among the sweets. The improvised table was covered with the little treasures, and for a moment, in that damp room, there was no poverty, no pain, no illness. Just two women — mother and daughter, so alike they could be mistaken for sisters of different ages — sharing food and silence, as if the world outside didn't exist.
Finally, after both had eaten and Lena's mother seemed to regain a bit of strength, she settled into the worn pillows and said:
" Okay… now tell me what happened."
Lena took a deep breath. Her eyes sparkled, not just from fatigue, but from the vivid memory of the class. Like a born storyteller, she began to recount the events: Hans's projection, the battle against the North, the fall of the traitorous winged ones. Her voice gained rhythm, gestures, and each detail left her mouth as if she had been on that plain herself.
Her mother listened in silence — at first startled, then fascinated, and finally with a smile that mixed joy and pain.
" So…" her voice faltered, but she pressed on firmly " the ones who killed our family and your... Were they killed?"
" Yes, Mom. They've been avenged. Now they can rest."
The woman's eyes welled up. It was as if decades of bitterness had broken in that moment. Sadness and relief danced on the same face — the unbearable weight of loss, and the bitter glory of honor restored.
" I'm happy… but I feel like you haven't gotten to the main point." the mother narrowed her eyes, as if reading her daughter's soul. " What's bothering you, my little winged one?"
Lena froze. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, it was useless — her mother had always known.
" The professor… said I can become a winged one."
A genuine brightness appeared on the woman's face. For an instant, she tried to rise, almost as if to dance or run to hug her daughter. But the weakness pulled her back to bed. Still, the smile didn't fade.
" But…" Lena's voice wavered " I need to carry out a mission with him first."
The joy vanished from her mother's face like a candle snuffed out. Her eyes, once alive, became a well of apprehension.
" What more… do they still want from my family?" — she murmured, and then her knees gave way.
Lena threw herself toward her, hugging her tightly, as if she could protect her even from her own words.
" He said… I have to go to the North."
The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.