An ink stain.

As Eren descended from the mountain, he took in the sight of Sacred Roots, a place that had once been shrouded in untouched serenity. It had changed drastically, in the span of nearly two decades.

What was once a quiet sanctuary of ancient trees now hummed with life, colours spilling into the streets.

Nature's once-green tones had been replaced by lantern-lit pathways, bustling markets, and the ceaseless chatter of creatures from across Serenith.

It reminded him too much of the mortal realm he had once visited in his days as a defender, noisy, bright, and brimming with a restless energy. For a moment, he almost missed the solemn stillness of his mountain retreat.

His thoughts turned quiet as they approached the School of Defence and Magic. The university stood taller and bigger than he had expected. 

Yet, what caught his attention most was the sheer number of students, hundreds of them, moving in and out of the campus gates, their laughter and hurried footsteps echoing through the courtyard.

It was too crowded for his liking.

Eren understood now why Donovan had been so adamant. The school's reputation had grown beyond expectations, attracting an overwhelming number of students eager to master their craft. And with numbers came the need for more capable instructors.

They came to a stop just outside the main hall, where Donovan turned to him with a knowing smirk.

"Go, boy. Head to the council room. I don't need to show you the way, do I?" Donovan's voice was light, but there was an underlying finality to his words.

Eren gave a short nod. He had no desire for a warm welcome, no introductions, no unnecessary pleasantries.

He knew these halls well.

"You'll start your duties as a teacher tomorrow," Donovan continued. "Until then, you can stay in the old room you used to occupy. I've had it cleaned up for you."

Eren almost smiled at that. Of course, he had.

"Off you go now," Donovan waved him off.

Without another word, Eren turned and walked away, his steps quiet yet deliberate. He did not need a guide. Every hallway, every turn, he remembered it all.

It seemed that, for all the years that had passed, some things had remained the same.

The grand doors of Donovan's office swung open as two figures stepped out into the hallway.

A young man with dark hair and blue eyes led the way, his long strides full of restless energy, while his twin sister followed closely behind, her fingers curled lightly around the strap of her book bag.

"The first day of university!" Arian grinned, adjusting the sword fastened to his waist. "Can you believe it, Miri? We're finally here."

Mirielle nodded quietly. She had never been one for excessive words, her thoughts often lingered in the pages of books rather than in conversations.

"Where should we go first?" Arian continued, already thinking aloud. "The training grounds? The spell archives? Or—" He paused, glancing back at his sister when he realised she was no longer beside him.

Mirielle had stopped in the middle of the hallway, her golden eyes fixed on something or rather, someone.

A lone figure moved through the hall, effortlessly weaving between the bustling students without so much as a glance at them. His silver hair caught the warm glow of the enchanted lanterns, almost glimmering as he walked.

His expression was unreadable, cold and detached yet there was something unmistakably commanding about him.

She didn't know why she kept looking. Something about him felt... different.

A sharp tug on her wrist snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Come on, Mirielle," Arian sighed, pulling her forward. "You can't just stop in the middle of the hallway."

Mirielle blinked once, her gaze lingering for a fraction of a second longer before she finally let Arian drag her away.

As they turned the corner, her mind remained strangely preoccupied. She had never been the type to let her thoughts stray on random people, not like this.

And yet, the silver-haired man stayed in her thoughts, like an ink stain that refused to fade.