Party Night

The morning sunlight crept through the window, its golden rays breaking into Fenix's room and hitting his face directly, forcing him out of his slumber.

He groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow.

'Why did I even agree to this?'

He had never been to a party before. Not once.

Back in his old life, there had never been an opportunity. He was too busy surviving—scavenging, moving from place to place, trying not to die.

Now? He wasn't even sure what to do.

'Do I just show up? What am I supposed to wear? What kind of party even is this?'

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He reached for it lazily, blinking at the screen. A message from Mira.

[Mira]:

Time: 23:00

Location: Warehouses southwest of the city.

Instructions: Follow the street past the blacksmith's shop. At the end, turn left and take the stairs at the alley's end. Show this message at the entrance.

Fenix frowned.

'A warehouse party? That's… unexpected'

Most school parties would have been in designated halls or lounges inside the academy. This? It sounded more like a secret event.

'Guess there's no turning back now.'

Sighing, he tossed the phone onto his bedside table and sat up, running a hand through his hair.

He had the whole day to himself before the party.

Now, he just needed to figure out what the hell he was going to wear.

Deciding to push thoughts of the party aside for now, Fenix stuck to his daily routine.

After getting dressed, he headed to the academy's gym, a habit he had developed since training under Garrick. The place was always filled with students—some training alone, others sparring in pairs, and a few groups going through intense combat drills.

When Fenix entered, he immediately spotted Garrick Drakar.

The noble was already in the middle of his training, moving through a precise series of sword drills. His strikes were quick, deliberate, and terrifyingly efficient.

But as soon as Fenix approached, Garrick paused, glancing at him.

It almost felt like he had been waiting for him.

Without needing to say anything, Fenix grabbed a wooden training sword from the rack and stepped into the sparring area.

For the next hour, they went through an intense training session.

Fenix had been improving steadily over the past two months. His footwork was sharper, his swings more controlled, and he could finally hold his own for more than a few seconds.

But even after all this time—Garrick still crushed him.

The difference in their skill was painfully clear. Every duel ended the same way.

A clean strike from Garrick.

A disarmed sword clattering to the ground.

And Fenix lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

'Damn it… still not enough.'

Garrick offered a hand, pulling him up.

"You're slow," he muttered. "Your reflexes have improved, but you still hesitate."

Fenix rubbed his bruised shoulder. "You think I'm hesitating? Feels more like you're just a monster."

Garrick scoffed, crossing his arms.

"This is the difference between someone who was trained to fight from birth and someone who's just now starting to learn," he said bluntly.

Fenix sighed. He wasn't wrong.

The great families weren't just symbols of power. They were raised to be the protectors of humanity. Their children weren't given normal childhoods. They were trained like weapons, honed into warriors and leaders.

For Garrick, losing was never an option.

Fenix had only just begun to walk a path Garrick had been forced onto since birth.

'I still have a long way to go.'

As they caught their breath between sparring rounds, Fenix suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, you going to the party tonight?"

To his surprise, Garrick nodded.

"Yeah."

Fenix raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected.

Curious, he leaned forward slightly. "Why?"

Garrick hesitated for half a second. Then, with an almost casual tone, he said:

"Celcia Evern."

Fenix blinked.

The name sounded familiar. He ran through everything he had learned about the great families and their heirs before it clicked.

"Wait…" Fenix narrowed his eyes. "She's from the Evern Family, right? The ones with the Fragment of Destiny?"

Garrick remained silent.

Fenix tilted his head. "Ooooh… so that's what this is about."

Garrick shot him a sharp look. "What?"

Fenix smirked, leaning on his training sword.

"You like her."

Garrick's eyes twitched slightly, his composure faltering for the first time.

"Tch. Don't talk nonsense," he muttered, grabbing his towel and turning away.

Fenix grinned. This reaction was interesting.

For all his cold, battle-hardened demeanor, Garrick wasn't entirely emotionless after all.

Maybe… just maybe… there was more to him than just being a noble warrior.

But before Fenix could push the conversation further, Garrick threw a wooden sword at him.

"Shut up and fight," he ordered.

Fenix chuckled, catching the weapon.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go again."

After an exhausting training session, Fenix and Garrick headed toward the showers, washing away the sweat and fatigue before preparing for their classes.

As Fenix let the warm water run down his body, he thought back to the upcoming party. What the hell was he supposed to wear?

Sure, he had accepted the invitation, but that didn't mean he knew what to do. He had never been to a party before.

So, after they both finished and were getting dressed, Fenix decided to ask the only person around who might actually know.

"Hey, Garrick," he said, fastening his belt. "Any advice on what to wear?"

Garrick raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. "Why are you asking me?"

Fenix rolled his eyes. "You're a noble. You've probably been to dozens of these fancy events, right? You should know what's appropriate."

For a second, Garrick seemed to consider it. Then, with a slight shrug, he responded:

"Don't overthink it. It's not a formal event. It's just for people to relax, drink, and connect. You don't need a suit or anything—something casual is fine."

Fenix paused, processing the words.

'Casual? What does that even mean for a party?'

His brain immediately started racing through all of his available clothing options.

The problem? He had none.

For the last two months, he had only worn the standard academy uniform. Before that? He had nothing. No personal clothes, no casual outfits—nothing.

'Shit.'

His face twisted in mild frustration.

'I have no idea what I'm supposed to wear. And I sure as hell don't trust myself to pick something decent.'

Garrick glanced at him, noticing the conflicted look.

"...You're really this lost?"

Fenix sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've never done this before, man. The only clothes I have are academy-issued. I don't even know where to start."

For the first time, Garrick looked slightly amused.

"Then borrow something, genius."

Fenix nodded slowly. That was actually a good idea.

'Dante.'

That name immediately popped into his mind.

If anyone in the academy had a wardrobe filled with decent casual outfits, it was Dante.

Now he just needed to track him down and convince him to lend him something.

'Ugh, this is going to be annoying.'

With that thought in mind, Fenix finished getting dressed, grabbed his bag, and headed off to class—already dreading the conversation he was about to have.

Fenix tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting for the perfect moment.

The class hadn't started yet, and students were still chatting among themselves. Across the table, Dante was casually lounging back, spinning a pen between his fingers, looking completely at ease.

'Alright, let's get this over with.'

Fenix cleared his throat and leaned forward.

"Hey, Dante."

Dante stopped spinning his pen, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Fenix hesitated for a second but quickly pushed through. "I need a favor."

Dante smirked immediately. "Oh? Already cashing in a favor? That was fast."

Fenix rolled his eyes. "It's not like I owe you anything yet."

"Not yet," Dante grinned. "So, what do you need?"

Fenix sighed. "I need clothes. Something casual. For the party tonight."

Dante blinked once, then laughed. "Wait, wait, wait—" he leaned forward. "You're actually going?!"

Fenix crossed his arms. "That surprising?"

Dante chuckled. "Yeah, kinda. You don't exactly scream 'party guy.' But hey, good for you."

Fenix sighed again. "So? Do you have something or not?"

Dante tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Hmmm… I might."

Fenix narrowed his eyes. "Might?"

Dante smirked. "I do. But I won't just give it to you for free."

Fenix groaned. "I knew there was a catch."

Dante grinned. "Nothing in life is free, my friend." He leaned in slightly. "You owe me a favor. A real one. No arguing. No negotiating. When I ask, you help. Deal?"

Fenix stared at him.

He didn't like owing favors, but… what other choice did he have?

After a few seconds of internal debate, he sighed. "Fine. Deal."

Dante clapped his hands. "Great! You'll have something decent to wear. Consider it handled."

Fenix leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temple. "This better not come back to bite me."

Dante grinned mischievously. "Oh, it definitely will."

Just as Fenix was about to respond—

BANG.

A hand slammed against the desk, making both of them snap their heads up.

The professor was standing there, glaring at them.

"If you two are done whispering like schoolchildren, perhaps you'd like to share your conversation with the class?"

Fenix and Dante immediately shut up.

Dante smirked but raised his hands in surrender. "No, professor. We're done."

The professor narrowed his eyes before walking away, continuing the lecture.

Fenix leaned slightly toward Dante. "I hate you."

Dante whispered back. "You love me."

Fenix just sighed.

'This better be worth it.'

With classes finally over, most students headed back to their assigned rooms or to the dining hall for a quick meal.

But not Fenix.

Tonight, instead of returning to his own dorm, he made his way through the academy corridors, following a route he had never taken before—toward Dante's room.

The hallways were filled with murmurs of students talking about the upcoming party, excited about the biggest social event of the month.

'Guess it's really a big deal, huh?'

After a few turns, he finally arrived at the door to Dante's room and knocked twice.

A second later, it swung open.

Dante stood there, already dressed in a casual but stylish outfit—a dark, fitted jacket over a deep red shirt and black jeans.

"Ah, you actually came," Dante smirked. "For a second, I thought you'd back out."

Fenix crossed his arms. "I don't back out of things."

Dante grinned. "Good. Now, get in."

Fenix stepped inside, looking around.

Dante's room was… exactly what he expected.

Clothes tossed over the chair, random posters of famous awakeneds hanging on the walls, and an entire shelf stacked with books and energy drink cans.

It was messy. But lived-in.

Dante closed the door and went over to his wardrobe, rummaging through his collection of clothes.

"Alright, let's see… you need something that doesn't make you look like you just got out of combat training."

Fenix rolled his eyes. "I wasn't that bad."

Dante turned around, holding up a shirt.

"Buddy, you were one step away from showing up in your gym clothes."

Fenix had no argument.

After a few minutes, Dante finally handed him an outfit—a plain black t-shirt with a fitted dark gray jacket, paired with black jeans and boots.

"Try these on," Dante said, tossing the clothes at him.

Fenix examined the outfit.

It was simple. Nothing flashy. But at the same time… it didn't look bad.

'Alright, this works.'

He quickly changed into the new clothes, adjusting the fit. The jacket was comfortable, and the boots were sturdy but easy to move in.

Dante looked him up and down and nodded in approval.

"Not bad. See? You clean up alright."

Fenix snorted. "You make it sound like I was some kind of mess before."

"You were," Dante smirked, tossing him a bottle of cologne.

Fenix caught it, gave himself a quick spray, and sighed.

"Alright. Now what?"

Dante grinned, grabbing his keys.

"Now? We go have some fun."

Fenix hesitated for a moment, still unsure if this was a good idea.

But then he remembered something.

'Sylis is going to be there.'

With a deep breath, he pushed the hesitation aside.

"Fine. Let's go."

With that, the two of them stepped out of the room, heading toward the party.

As Fenix and Dante made their way toward the party, the academy grounds were buzzing with life. Groups of students were already heading toward the southwest warehouse district, where the underground event was set to take place. Laughter, chatter, and excitement filled the air.

Dante, always one step ahead, had already sent a message to Mira earlier, telling her to meet them outside the girls' dormitory.

When they arrived, she wasn't there yet.

So they waited.

And then—

The door swung open.

Mira stepped out.

And for the first time since Fenix had met him—

Dante shut up.

His usual smirk? Gone.

His carefree attitude? Frozen.

His mouth? Slightly open, as if words had just died in his throat.

Fenix, standing beside him, immediately noticed.

Mira looked… different.

Unlike her usual academy uniform or gym clothes, tonight, she had actually put effort into her appearance. She wore a fitted dark-blue crop top, paired with a sleek black leather jacket and high-waisted jeans that hugged her curves. Her hair was styled more freely than usual, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

She didn't look overly formal or fancy—just effortlessly confident.

Fenix could almost hear Dante swallow.

'Oh… he's down bad.'

But to Dante's credit, he recovered fast.

With a quick cough, he straightened up and casually ran a hand through his hair.

"Yo," he said smoothly, as if he hadn't just been caught staring.

Mira tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

Dante shook his head quickly. "Nope. Nothing. Just—you clean up well."

Mira smiled slightly, placing a hand on her hip.

"Yeah? I could say the same for you two," she teased, giving Fenix and Dante an approving look.

Dante grinned, regaining his confidence. "Of course. We're professionals at this."

Fenix rolled his eyes. "You picked my outfit. I had no say in this."

Mira chuckled before turning to Fenix.

"So? Ready for your first real party?"

Fenix exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the distant city lights where the event was happening.

"I guess we'll find out."

With that, the three of them started walking toward the party.

But as they did—

Fenix caught one last glance at Dante.

He wasn't as smooth as he thought he was.

Even now, Dante kept stealing quick glances at Mira when he thought no one was looking.

'Yeah. He's definitely into her.'

Fenix smirked slightly.

'Interesting.'

He kept the thought to himself and simply followed along.

Tonight was going to be fun.

The trio descended the stairs, the cold stone beneath their feet growing warmer as the muffled bass from inside vibrated through the walls.

At the bottom, a bouncer in a black suit blocked the entrance. He barely looked at them before holding out his hand.

Dante, already prepared, pulled out his phone and flashed the message he had received—the invitation.

The bouncer nodded once, stepping aside and motioning them forward.

As they stepped inside, Fenix was not prepared for what he saw.

From the outside, the warehouse looked like any other abandoned building in the southwest district—dark, run-down, and forgotten. But inside…

It was alive.

A massive space, almost three stories tall, had been converted into a fully functional nightclub.

Vibrant neon lights pulsed along the walls, shifting between deep reds, electric blues, and soft purples. A massive dance floor sprawled across the center, filled with students moving to the rhythm of the music, while others leaned against railings, talking in groups or watching from the sides.

To the left, a long, sleek bar stretched along the wall, bartenders quickly mixing drinks and serving colorful cocktails. The scent of alcohol, sweat, and something faintly sweet filled the air.

To the right, a wide staircase led up to an upper level, where VIP seating areas were set up—private booths with plush velvet couches and dark glass panels, hiding the occupants just enough to add mystery.

And everywhere—laughter, voices, and the deep pulse of the bass echoed through the air.

Fenix raised an eyebrow.

'This... is not what I expected.'

Dante whistled, clearly impressed. "Damn. They really go all out."

Mira grinned, nudging Fenix with her elbow.

"You look surprised. What, expecting a few people in a dirty basement?"

Fenix shrugged. "Kind of, yeah."

Dante chuckled. "Welcome to the real academy social scene, my friend."

Fenix took another look around.

So this was how awakeneds partied.

'Alright… let's see what this night has in store.'

As soon as they had adjusted to the chaos of the party, the trio naturally drifted toward the bar.

Even though they were technically underage, it didn't really matter here.

An Awakened's body was built differently. Their resistance to poisons and toxins was already superior to that of normal humans—meaning alcohol didn't affect them as easily.

At least, in theory.

With only one Soulcore each, they were still far from having the high resistance that stronger Awakeneds enjoyed. If they drank too much, they'd still feel it.

Dante grinned, already excited. "Alright, first round's on me. What are we having?"

Mira sighed, shaking her head. "We're not going crazy, alright? Just one or two drinks."

Fenix watched as Dante leaned in slightly when he spoke to Mira—standing just a bit closer than usual, smiling a little more than necessary.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was trying to do.

Fenix smirked internally.

'Yeah. He's definitely into her.'

Rather than being the third wheel in whatever this was, he casually stepped back.

"You guys go ahead. I'll catch you later."

Dante glanced at him, confused. "Huh? You're not drinking?"

Fenix shrugged. "Not in the mood. Gonna look around a bit."

Mira raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Fenix just waved them off.

"I'll be fine. You two enjoy yourselves."

Dante seemed momentarily distracted by Mira's attention and quickly redirected his focus back to her.

Fenix chuckled to himself.

'Yeah, he'll be just fine.'

With that, he walked off into the crowd, letting his friends have their moment.

Fenix spent the next half-hour or so just walking around.

There were a lot of people—students chatting, dancing, and drinking in groups. Some were more reserved, sticking to the edges of the room, while others were fully immersed in the music.

He wasn't exactly bored, but there wasn't much here that held his interest.

'Maybe I'm just not used to this kind of thing.'

After another ten minutes, he decided he needed some air.

The moment he stepped out of the warehouse, the difference in atmosphere hit him immediately.

Inside—it was loud, chaotic, and full of energy.

Outside—it was quiet, cool, and almost peaceful.

There weren't many people out here.

A few couples leaned against the walls in dimly lit corners, enjoying a bit of privacy.

Others were off to the side, smoking—the faint scent of nicotine drifting in the air.

Fenix took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

'Much better.'

The cool night breeze felt good against his skin, helping to clear his mind.

He leaned against the railing, gazing up at the sky.

Despite being in the middle of the academy district, the stars were still clearly visible, their soft glow contrasting the artificial neon lights from inside the party.

For the first time that night, he felt relaxed.

But that peace wouldn't last long.

Because a voice—smooth, confident, and slightly amused—called out to him.

"Didn't expect to find you out here, Fenix."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned toward the voice.

And when he saw who it was—

He blinked.

Because standing a few feet away, with the moonlight reflecting against her silver hair and deep blue eyes…

Was Sylis of Arventis.

Fenix blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Sylis stood a few feet away, her usual composed demeanor unchanged despite the faint hum of the party echoing behind them. The silver glow of her hair under the moonlight made her stand out even in the dimly lit alleyway.

She was wearing something different from her academy uniform. A black, off-shoulder top with fitted sleeves and a simple silver necklace, paired with dark, high-waisted jeans. It wasn't extravagant, but it suited her.

Even outside of a combat setting, she had a quiet elegance to her presence.

Fenix, however, wasn't sure how to react.

'What is she doing here?'

Sylis tilted her head slightly, studying him.

"You look surprised," she noted.

Fenix shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the railing.

"Didn't expect to see you at something like this."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"You assumed I don't go to parties?"

Fenix considered it.

"Yeah, kinda."

Sylis let out a soft breath—not quite a laugh, but close.

"I'm not really the type to enjoy these things," she admitted. "But… certain people insisted I come."

Fenix raised an eyebrow.

"Let me guess—family obligations?"

She shook her head.

"No. Friends."

That answer surprised him.

He didn't know why, but he had just assumed that someone like Sylis didn't really… have friends. At least, not in the casual way most people did.

Maybe it was her demeanor. Maybe it was the fact that she came from one of the Great Families.

But hearing her say that—it humanized her a little.

"Friends, huh?" Fenix mused. "I didn't think you'd be the type to let people drag you places."

Sylis gave him a small glance, almost amused.

"I could say the same about you."

Fenix scoffed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well. Dante and Mira wouldn't shut up about it, so here I am."

Sylis nodded slightly.

"I see."

A moment of quiet passed between them.

The air outside was cool, carrying the faint scent of smoke and distant laughter.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

In fact—it felt oddly natural.

Neither of them rushed to fill it.

Eventually, Fenix spoke again.

"So? What do you think of the party so far?"

Sylis sighed softly.

"Loud. Crowded. A little pointless."

Fenix grinned.

"So you hate it?"

She exhaled through her nose.

"I wouldn't say that."

He tilted his head slightly.

"Then what would you say?"

Sylis glanced back toward the warehouse entrance, where music and neon lights spilled out onto the alley.

"...I'd say it's tolerable."

Fenix chuckled.

"That's the nicest way to say 'I hate this' that I've ever heard."

Sylis gave him a look.

"You're awfully talkative tonight."

Fenix paused.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"...No."

She leaned against the railing beside him, arms lightly crossed, her posture more relaxed than before.

Fenix glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

'This is… kinda nice.'

But he knew better than to push his luck.

If there was one thing he'd learned about Sylis of Arventis, it was that she wasn't someone you could just force into a conversation.

She was the type who chose when and how much to talk.

And tonight?

She was choosing to talk to him.

That was good enough for now.

Fenix inhaled deeply, feeling the night air cool his skin.

"...Guess I should head back inside," he finally said.

Sylis nodded.

"I should too."

Neither of them moved immediately.

Then, without another word, Sylis turned first, walking toward the entrance of the warehouse.

As she reached the door, she paused briefly, then glanced back at him.

"See you around, Fenix."

And then—she was gone.

Fenix stood there for a few seconds, staring at the door before exhaling a quiet breath.

He wasn't sure what that was.

But for some reason—

He didn't mind it.