Nathan Modernson's head rested lifelessly on his elbow, his hollowed eyes focused on the ticking hands of the clock, praying for it to run faster. It was quite an ironic feeling everyone experienced; time never travelled at the speed you wanted.
Finally, the hand arrived halfway between 4 and 5, marking the conclusion of the generalised class and the beginning of private tutoring. Nathan didn't know whether Lily would come to the academy today; he never did. Lily's arrival was always completely randomised, as if she flipped a coin each day and decided what to do based on the outcome.
Standing before the sunlight, Nathan walked out of the classroom with a wide yawn. The Salvation Club rarely operated during weekdays when the workload was quite intense. Of course, for him, there weren't any days when he was necessarily busy in a physical way, but his mind never ceased its protest to rest.
The other representative students strolled past him at varying paces. But no matter how hurried they seemed, none of them dismissed Nathan's presence, and each shared a few words with him before they left.
"Nathan, I've made up my mind." Jennifer walked past him and left her cold words behind.
Nathan rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming you didn't even consider my advice."
Jennifer didn't bother to turn back. Her voice faded into the eerie atmosphere.
"I don't listen to idealistic daydreamers, nor am I afraid of consequences."
"I care…" Nathan sighed and murmured to himself.
"What was that?"
"I said, do whatever you want!" Nathan called out and pulled a face behind her. Even though he spent the most time befriending William and Leo, it turned out that Jennifer Lumendra was always the closest to him, apart from Daniel, Joseph, and Jay. This connection, however, wasn't always the most positive, but a complex blend of debating ideologies and mutual perceptions.
On one side, Nathan and Jennifer shared many beliefs. However, whenever the topic became a conversation between good and evil, it always turned into a bombastic debate, each of them pushing their opinions onto the other. Jennifer criticised him for being overly considerate of others, yet Nathan condemned her ignorance of moral baselines.
"I heard that," Charlotte grinned behind him. "Didn't think you two are…" She halted her sentence, waiting for Nathan to complete the rest.
Nathan side-eyed her with amusement. "What I mean was: I need her for my grand plans in the future."
Charlotte walked past, shaking her head. "I'm just joking as well. You guys get along well, but I can tell it's no more than a simple friendship — probably not even up to that."
"You want to know something funny I found out about Jennifer?" Nathan replied.
"If you are willing to tell me, then sure."
Sighing, Nathan finally got to share his insight with somebody. It was something he had figured out a long time ago, but was never able to comprehend the reason behind.
"She hates everyone who loves her," he stated slowly. "So don't spread things around — I'm gonna be the one in trouble."
Despite the astonishing and peculiar news, the expression on Charlotte's face didn't change, as if it never did. "So… do you love her?"
"What are you talking about?" Nathan could no longer keep the politeness in his voice. "Do I look blind or do I look insane?"
Charlotte laughed. It wasn't often that aristocrats like her could hear a mockery like that. "I mean, we don't get to choose anyway, right?" Though her words may have sounded bitter, her tone didn't.
Ordinary citizens might imagine the lives of aristocrats to be better than theirs in every way, and Nathan used to be one of them. Only when he, in some sense, became one of them did he realise that the burdens high-class members must carry could almost neutralise their wealth and status. The question truly comes down to how much one cares about freedom.
Some people could be described with a mere sentence, like Monica and David, yet some may require hundreds of pages to summarise, like Jennifer and Nathan. As for Charlotte Clayfield, Nathan had always been concerned with her calmness and unrelatability. She seemed to have blended into the atmosphere most of the time, to the point that Nathan couldn't construct a single phrase to define her. If he had to, it would be something about her attitude towards her life. Though she never gave any reasonable hints suggesting so, Nathan could always sense that she wasn't necessarily satisfied with the world around.
Only when everyone had left the classroom, including Clara Marshall, who shot him a dirty look when she walked out, did Nathan dismiss his thoughts and walk towards the dormitory. With nothing else left to do, he might as well go enjoy some more leisure activities. Unfortunately, to avoid overpopulation and disturbance of the calm atmosphere, Nathan didn't allow anyone except for Daniel, Joseph, and Jay to enter the representative students' territories.
But on the way there, he noticed a shadowy figure leaning against the wall, reminding him of his first entrance into this academy.
"Evening, Nicolas. Haven't seen you for a while."
Nicolas lifted his head. "Thanks to you, the Student Council no longer needs to monitor the first graders."
"Did Arthur send you to deliver his gratitude?" Nathan mocked.
"He wants to see you."
"Wants to thank me face to face? What a polite man indeed."
Nathan's heart tightened despite his carefree voice. He knew that Arthur Paradox was possibly up to no good. He made preparations to the best of his ability — anything else would have to be fully reliant on his quick wit and, of course, a bit of luck.
…
For the first time in his academy life, Nathan had stepped into the doors of the Student Council room. He didn't yet know how much significance it held in his story, but there was a sense of distant connection. Everything within this modest yet glorious chamber called out to him. The traditional design was a striking contrast to the rest of the academy buildings. For more than 20 years, the Student Council had remained unaltered — the only factor changed was the person in charge.
Arthur Paradox had his face planted deep in a stack of files. His towering figure seemed weak and weary, at least not in a state of direct confrontation.
"I have things to do," Nicolas Terrast's voice appeared from behind. Without waiting for a reply, the door slammed shut.
Arthur lifted his head lazily from the end of the long desk, his eyelids barely open enough to notice the details on Nathan's face.
"Greetings, Nathan…" He yawned. "Haven't talked since our first meeting. Always been waiting for an opportunity, but you see…" His eyes pointed toward the files around him. As his eyes shifted below Nathan's face, something seemed to have caught his attention. "Nice ring, by the way."
Nathan's expression twitched slightly, concerned at Arthur's equally relaxed stance. He couldn't tell whether it was an act of bluff or if his confidence truly exceeded expectations.
"My most honoured and diligent president… As the Student Council President of the Imperial Academy, your status stands as a significant governing body to the entire kingdom of Runalond. The responsibility of such a role cannot be overstated. But even though the burden on you is high, please make sure to give yourself enough rest." Nathan flattered with a subtle bow. "After I heard that you had summoned me, I came here with Nicolas in a great rush. My deepest apologies for arriving empty-handed."
Arthur laughed it off calmly. "Governing body of Runalond? Too much of an exaggeration for me to bear. Even the king and the First Seat couldn't refer to themselves as such. How can I, a mere Student Council President of an academy, call myself so? Nathan Modernson, perhaps I can't even best you. Your reputation and influence within the academy have already exceeded mine, don't you think?"
Nathan's curved body shot straight up. "Reputation is a figurative concept. I just made friends with many people, but you, President, hold authority over them, including me."
"Nathan, talking like this is tiring. Let's get straight to the point." Arthur yawned again and sat up straight, his arm outstretched behind his back. "You say reputation is figurative, hm? That may not exactly be wrong, but the influence you have on people's hearts is real."
Nathan's eyes cooled. He took a seat at the opposite end of the table. There was a suffocating tension that ensnared both of them, yet neither displayed any fear toward the other.
"President, truthfully speaking, what I'm doing has nothing to do with challenging the Student Council's authority. From my memory, I don't recall breaking any rules of the academy. Is forming a club illegal? Or is peaceful protest illegal? Did the academy rules get altered?"
"Your protests are neither peaceful nor politically permitted. You are spreading propaganda, an ideology that challenges not the Student Council, but the entire system of Runalond!" Arthur replied assertively. "Nathan, you do not understand anything. There is a reason behind every phenomenon. even suffering."
"If I'm challenging the system of Runalond, then it is up to the Rune Arts Federation or royalty to determine my sin. I'm fighting for those under persecution. If that is considered wrong, then what is considered right in this academy?"
"I'm not here to talk to you about right and wrong. I'm here to talk to you about these…" Arthur murmured, his fingers gently massaging the corners of his forehead. Taking three files from the great pile of paper, he slid them perfectly in front of the other side where Nathan sat.
Nathan scanned the files before him. They seemed like newspaper- or report-like investigations, with striking headings on them all.
"Whitedawn Clan: Ambition."
"Gravekin Clan: Antipathy"
"Short Clan: Corruption."
Nathan furrowed his eyebrows as he briefly scanned the contents of the reports. Everything seemed to consist of newly investigated facts and data that had not been publicly released to the audience, which at least secured the safety of his friends' families for now. These reports were quite concerning, but not quite enough to impress him.
"What statement are you making, Arthur?" Nathan asked politely, a change of attitude.
"I'm warning you, before I have to resolve the worst possibility, halt all of your revolting actions."
"A warning toward me?" Nathan pointed to himself, seemingly astonished and confused. He scanned the files once again, this time catching every detail. Eventually, he lifted his head and looked into Arthur's deep pupils.
"How come… I don't see a single 'Nathan' or 'Modernson' in the entirety of these three files? This doesn't seem like a warning for me — more like a threat to Daniel Whitedawn, Joseph Gravekin, and Jay Short. They are ordinary students though. If you want to deal with them, you wouldn't go as far as researching their familial history."
Arthur seemed unfazed by Nathan's calmness. "Are you not worried for your friends?"
Nathan shrugged. "Of course I am — I'm a sentient being!"
"But making me feel 'worried' isn't exactly what you want, right? Arthur, if this is the extent of your threat, then I'm afraid…"
Arthur Paradox grinned, his expression more friendly than hostile, but not by so much. He didn't directly respond to Nathan's answer, but instead proceeded to tidy up the files on the tabletop before him. His movements were lazy yet coordinated, leaving Nathan on the other side with his own thoughts.
He looked into the contents of the files one by one, but he sighed at every one of them as if they were copies of each other and held no significant value to him.
Nathan Modernson sat silently, waiting for the awkward silence to be broken, and it was.
"Nathan, do you know what these papers are for?"
Nathan shook his head.
"Whitedawn, Gravekin, Short—just like the three reports before you, all these are detailed information about every single member of every single influential clan in Runalond. No matter how insignificant, as long as their name could be mentioned, the Paradox family will keep a record of it."
"We members of the Paradox clan are vigilant sentinels standing on the colossal watchtowers of Runalond, with eyes located in every single corner, removing all possible threats to the kingdom's authority."
Nathan felt something drop to his stomach, his pupils uncontrollably widening at the fear of Arthur's continuation from here. This was not a threat, but a simple, horrifying representative of raw power.
"Nathan Modernson, I seek you today not for a simple threat or warning. Instead, I want to make a simple agreement with you."
Nathan nodded, signalling him to carry on and state his terms.
"The student council will turn a blind eye to your villainous acts, and perhaps even provide you with appropriate assistance. In return, you only need to answer me one question."
"Where did I come from, right?" Nathan whispered.
"No, no, no. Of course not," Arthur shook his hands in dismissal. "Didn't I tell you I've got eyes all over Runalond?"
"You came from Lostburg. That, at least, I'm sure of."
His announcement was calm and devoid of emotion, as if it were an unevidenced prediction to test his attitude, or an insignificant fact that mattered little to either party.
"My question is: Who is your father?"
Nathan froze. This wasn't exactly a question that needed to be avoided, and Arthur's purpose behind it wasn't too difficult to comprehend. Arthur Paradox wasn't concerned about what he was doing, but about who he was. Those factors correlated with each other, and even—
He just couldn't understand: if Arthur could discover that he came from Lostburg, how could he not find his father?
The clock's ticking became louder among the silence that had once again arrived, as if it was counting down to something no one could see.