The evening sun slowly sinks behind the horizon and turns the sky into an orange colored ocean. While the flowers bathe in the last rays of the sun and the pleasant cool wind brushes their leaves, Cyril wanders between the flower beds. Sirenford Academy has many parks, but nowhere is the vegetation as dense and natural as in the school garden. The trees and shrubs in the other parks have been helped to grow faster by magical tools, and other tools have shaped the plants into all sorts of artistic forms. This garden, however, was created through sheer physical labor and dedication: Nowhere is closer to real nature than here.

The dense foliage and blooming colors always remind Cyril of his home, Greenwater County. He used to come to this place regularly, but recently the number of his visits has dwindled.

He actually thinks it's a shame; a salty sea breeze is still missing and he would feel right at home here.

He slowly ascends the limestone steps to the terrace. It's as if the movement and fresh air relax his aching muscles.

When he finally reaches the terrace, he immediately notices the floor. According to the rumors, the confrontation with the masked man ended very bloody, but there is no trace of said blood. Instead, the blue tiles gleam in the orange light of the setting sun.

This place has been cleaned up quickly...

Cyril's gaze falls on the open garden gate;

It seems as if nothing had ever happened here.

As if no one had broken in.

As if no one had attacked the defenceless Selim!

As if this masked man had never been here...

“They really have destroyed all the evidence...”

The student council will surely claim that Selim got his wounds from an accident. They could try to nip the rumors in the bud - but how many people will believe them?

“Probably plenty.” Sighs Cyril.

He leans against the railing and lets his gaze wander over the magnificent sea of flowers. So many ugly things happen at this academy and at the same time this place is such a beautiful sight. It's a paradox.

“Huh?”

Something catches Cyril's eye - or rather someone:

He sees something bright blue sticking out between the beds. For a moment, Cyril thought it was a flower, but the blue thing moves in a strange way. It must be a person.

Someone from the gardening club? That a gardener would dare to come to this place after the incident...

Cyril is curious now. He trots back down the stairs and approaches the mysterious person. When he finally pushes the bushes aside, he can see her: A young woman. She is wearing the same uniform as all the female students at the academy.

So she's a student, but what is she doing there?

As the blue-haired lady plucks out individual leaves, her white stockings and gloves are stained by the brown earth.

Shouldn't she be wearing something more... appropriate?

“Y-yo!” Cyril takes a hand out of his trouser pocket and greets the lady... But the student doesn't seem to notice him. Her green eyes remain fixed on the foliage. Her tied-up hair hangs over her left shoulder and bobs in the air as she crouches with her knees in the ground and continues her work.

“Uh... Hey!”

Still no answer.

“Hydrangeas.” The girl finally says, “Your appearance is just an illusion.

A farce. This cultivated form has infertile blossoms. Strange, isn't it?”

“Huh?”

Hydrangeas? Cyril has no idea what she's talking about.

The student lifts her head and looks the man next to her in the face for the first time.

“Good evening, Cyril.”

Her gaze seems gentle and her eyelids droop. Although her face is completely expressionless, the look on her face radiates a certain warmth. It seems somehow familiar to Cyril.

“H-hi... uh...”

Although she looks so familiar, he doesn't know her name. But the lady seems to have already recognized it:

“Ah, you forgot it. My name. Of course you did.

I should have expected that.”

What does that mean now?

“I am Isabell. Isabell Arkwright.”

The girl called Isabell stands up and pats the dirt off her clothes. The brown soil has now penetrated deep into the fibers of her uniform and is almost impossible to knock off.

Cyril looks at the strange girl. He finally puts his hand back in his trouser pocket and says hesitantly:

“Listen Isabell, shouldn't you be wearing something different for this gardening job?”

“Hm? Do you think so?” Isabell asks in surprise and looks at her pleated skirt, which is still the cleanest of all her clothes.

“Uh, it doesn't matter-” replies Cyril.

“Trouser pockets.”

“What?”

Isabell continues to tug at her skirt.

“I wish this uniform had pockets like yours...”

“A-ah...”

Then Cyril remembered: He still has to talk to Professor Wagner about the project! Sudri had asked him this morning! So much time has passed since the fight and his wanderings in the school garden. The day is almost over!

“Yo Isabell, I've got to get going!”

Without waiting for an answer, Cyril turns around and marches off in quick strides.

“Cyril,” Isabell calls in a gentle tone, ”Can you do me a favor and come back here tomorrow morning? To this garden.”

“Huh?”

Cyril turns back around.

“Before they even start. The classes. I'll wait here.”

“W-what? But why?”

“You want to know more about him, don't you? The masked man.”

“-!”

A shock shoots through Cyril's body, as if he's taking another hit from Declan's Astraphobia. In fact, Cyril secretly desires to know more about this masked man, but he has always kept that to himself. Not even Sudri knows about it.

“How do you know about this? That I want to meet him I mean.”

The corners of the blue-haired student's mouth lift. For the first time, Cyril sees a gentle smile on her otherwise expressionless face.

“I'll tell you everything. What's happening here. At this school. All you have to do is come here tomorrow morning.”

What does she mean by that?

What is she up to?

Is this a trap?

“I-I'll see if I can find some time...”

This feels wrong! But I want to know who this man is. What motivates him.

“You're going to meet him. The masked man”

“Wha-?”

“He'll be here. Tomorrow morning.”

Impossible! I thought he wanted to stay hidden. He would never reveal his real identity to another student... would he?

But... What does Cyril have to lose in the end? He has the feeling that he can trust Isabell. She may be acting strangely, but there is honesty in her words.

Cyril sighs.

“Okay, I'll come here in the morning and don't you dare lie to me!”

“Thanks Cyril, see you tomorrow.”

“Y-yo...”

Cyril turns around, perplexed. He can't believe that such an opportunity has just opened up to him. If he meets this masked man... Maybe Cyril could support him in the fight against the student council. But how is he supposed to do that? Someone like Cyril - someone who has no Lacrima - is useless...

No! All this thinking is useless! He'll just let it come to him tomorrow!

“Uh...”

The whole thing with Isabell had totally distracted him.

What was he going to do again?

“Oh shit! The professor and the project!”

Cyril rushes down the garden like the wind. There is no trace of the pain in his muscles. It seems as if the meeting with Isabell has given him new strength.