The open air of the fall day was reminiscent of a summer day. The sun shining down on the ground below was warm but the breeze was a bit cooler, taking the edge off of the sun's heat. It was beautiful and pleasant for the new students as they continued to file in for the new school year.

Lucius swept in, bringing in his wings as he landed lightly on the ground below him. One hand pushed through his golden blond hair, sapphire eyes scanning around to study his surroundings. There wasn't much that was that exciting, in all reality, but it was alright. Not everything had to be exciting at all. He was plenty alright if it wasn't. His eyes traveled down to the paper in his hand as he fished it from his pocket. He had a relatively full schedule waiting for him. The buildings written on the paper was... well only a little bit helpful as he moved to walk down the pathway. The young man paused before glancing around. A map would be nice actually. That would be a good idea actually, a map so he wouldn't get lost. Granted, he could just leap into the sky and fly back home. But still! That didn't help him figure out where he was going.

There were a lot of other students that held wings and the likes. But they were smaller, had them hidden or the colors were not quite the same as his own. His own pair were massive and just a creamy white color. A few Egyptian students with dazzling red, blue and yellow wings walked toward the building with a nod back at him.

They looked nice at least.

Lucius glanced back and turned in a small circle before making his way toward one of the many advisors trying to keep track of the flow of students.

His smile grew again, greeting the young woman with a lopsided smile. "Yes--hello, I was wondering where I could get a map of campus?"

He paused for a moment as she fished in her bag beside the table and held the paper up. "Here you go," she chirped with a brief nod and smile. Lucius returned the smile again, stepping back and sifting through the crowd again.

He paused to lean against a tree, his arm against the bark as he looked down to study the map in his hands, comparing it to the schedule he had. There were a lot of buildings which was interesting, mostly to himself. The closest class to him was education for secondary school, basically teaching high school kids.

That was his ideal age to teach. It sounded fun at least to him. For a moment or two, he paused and tilted his head back and forth. The farthest class away was training in flight education and anatomy. Which made sense, flight needed a lot more space than anything else.

But he'd make his way out there slowly as he figured out where each class was located. First was the education, it looked like it was just a block or two down the road to the East.

Lucius lifted his head, stood up from the tree and began to walk down the sidewalk.

Believing in things was a stretch--a long stretch for Lucius. While he knew about the Fates, the prophecies and whatnot, the idea that prophecies could somehow intermix between pantheons and mythologies was just too much. He just couldn't quite wrap his head around that idea. It seemed so foreign, so obscure and absurd... that he couldn't even really grasp it in his mind. Lucius rarely, if ever, thought about it to begin with. He was just a little nobody from nowhere with a no-name for a godly parent. Him? Special? No way.

His thoughts were interrupted by a set of footsteps matching his pace. The winged demigod's blue eyes swiveled toward the person who had invaded his walking pace and found himself with an old acquaintance. Milo. The son of Hephaestus was a wonder in his eyes. The man had invented wings--just like his--just so he didn't feel alone. He wore them on a harness on his back but, when not in use, they folded down magically to a longer walking-stick like contraption. Mechanics, magic and whatever Milo did was beyond Lucius. It was little wonder that the other student was majoring in engineering and science. Honestly, Lucius would be far more surprised if he wasn't majoring in something to do with engineering or even automation of some sort.

Milo's brown eyes softened, pushing a hand through his own tousled brown hair. "Been a while, huh?"

"Only a little bit," Lucius let out a warm laugh, nudging his arm with his elbow. "I'm just getting accustomed to the whole campus thing right now. What are you doing?"

"Nothing useful," Milo's tone was rather straightforward and jilted into a jeering laugh. "Now I can do something useful, I can show you around."

Lucius let out a warmer laugh and shook his head, tossing golden blond hair. He glanced back toward the sidewalk, looking up toward the steps of the library. That... was a massive library. "Holy cow," he whispered softly.

"A lot of information is in there," Milo set his hand on the shoulder of Lucius. He paused briefly to look behind him at the sound of cackling. His brown eyes darkened only slightly, tightening his grip on his friend's shoulder. A group of demigods--likely from that side of things. The evil side.

Hephaestus really hadn't done much, he was considered a neutral god but that didn't stop anyone from trying to drag them into picking sides or even just tearing into them regardless.

"Look," the one man jeered, "a pretty little angel. Isn't that just cute? Be a pity if some of those feathers were to fall off, eh?" He nudged his buddy who gladly grinned back and chuckled.

"Pity? Nah, I'd love to make a pillow," he groveled shortly.

Milo took in a breath and let it out slowly, his heart racing. This was not the sort of welcome party that he was expecting. Later? For sure. The first day? Not at all.

"Oh lay off," Milo persisted, pushing Lucius behind him a bit. "We're all just trying to find our way around--"

"Do yourself a favor, mechanic, and beat it," the third man cut him off. "Unless you'd like to help?"

"Lucius is a son of Zephyrus," Milo replied, his voice shaking, "he's a neutral party--"

The only issue was Milo couldn't tell who was from who. Which meant anticipating attacks? Yeah right.

Lucius finally studied the three men. They were older, held a darker air about them and a sneering look. Each of them had thick shoulders--reminiscent of far too many days in the gym.

Lucius shook his head, grabbed Milo's wrist and dragged him into the library behind him. Hopefully, they'd be safe inside. Everybody knew you had to be silent in a library. A fight? That'd break the rules. Which, hopefully, the other three students would actually pay attention to. Judging by the fact that they raced after them, they didn't care.

"Split up," Lucius hissed quietly as he slid between the shelves.

| "Sometimes, the quietest moments hold the most danger. You never know who is watching, or when the silence will shatter." |

~

Feo’s eyes skimmed the pages of The Theory of Ragnarök, his mind struggling to focus. The weight of the journal’s strange writing was still gnawing at him, the fragments of Norse phrases drifting in and out of his thoughts. His fingers traced the edges of the book as his eyes glanced across the text, but the words seemed to blur together.

Then, a distant voice broke the stillness of the library. Feo’s attention snapped to the sound, his heart skipping a beat. The voice was too sharp, too loaded with an edge of mockery that didn’t belong in a place like this.

"Look at that... a pretty little angel."

Feo frowned, his grip tightening on the book as his gaze shifted toward the entrance. The voice hadn’t been loud, but it had cut through the silence with a biting clarity. The words, and the tone—too mocking, too deliberate—felt out of place in the peaceful library. He strained his ears, listening more carefully.

A second voice, deeper and more menacing, joined in. "Pity? Nah, I'd love to make a pillow."

Feo’s stomach dropped. His mind flickered back to the sketch in the journal, to the words he couldn’t understand but felt so important. The uneasy feeling that had been simmering in the back of his mind flared again. Something wasn’t right. The voices were too hostile, too threatening for just a simple conversation, let alone the content of the words.

He stood, cautiously, shifting the book under his arm. The voices came closer, growing louder as the conversation escalated. They weren’t in the library yet, but they were right outside, right at the entrance.

Feo moved quietly, stepping between the shelves, trying to stay out of sight. He needed to get a better look without drawing attention to himself. His steps were light, barely a whisper on the polished floor. His heart thudded in his chest as he made his way down the aisle, eyes trained on the front entrance.

From his position behind the shelves, Feo could see the shadow of two figures stepping into the library, their steps quick and panicked. One was the boy he'd failed to rid his mind from all day—he was impossible to miss. The other was a neutral he didn't recognize.

Feo hesitated for a moment, uncertainty twisting in his gut.

The footsteps in front of him grew louder, echoing through the library’s entrance. Feo’s eyes narrowed. The voices from outside were now closer, closer still. He could hear the scrape of boots against the stone floor, the unmistakable sound of bodies pushing their way into the library.

Feo couldn’t wait any longer. He took a deep breath and slipped further down the aisle, staying low, trying to stay out of view. His mind raced—he had to get ahead of this. He couldn’t let whatever was about to happen unfold without at least trying to stop it.

He edged toward the front of the library, his eyes darting toward the far shelves. The footsteps were now inside the library, their shadows flickering across the floor.

He wasn't a good person.

But something about that stupid, blonde-haired boy told him that he had to intercept these two before something bad happened to his pretty face.

The large shelves of the library full of books made for a good shield from the eyes of those who had other ideas. This was a new experience for the winged young man, he couldn't lie. Getting made fun of for wings? Not new. Getting chased down for his feathers? That was new. And, quite honestly, terrifying.

Milo took off to the left and he shuffled to the right, slipping between the shelves. Their boots thumped on the hard floor, giving him an idea of where they were in relation to where he was. As he passed by a librarian patron, the woman glanced up, spotting him and then looked back toward another distant figure and shrugged before going back to her work of stacking books.

Lucius felt his heart sink in his chest. She didn't care at all--not even when they let out a shout at spotting him. She simply just ignored it all.

Lucius shook his head, his sapphire eyes scanning the shelves in panic. This was a massive library--the second floor.

He slid on the stone floor, the shoes he wore hardly gripped much at all before he leapt upward, sweeping onto the balcony with one hand and dragged himself upward and over the stone railing. It was a sure fire way of pointing out where he was but he had a slight hope that it would buy him some time.

Enough time to hopefully get away. Campus was large enough, he could just run around. Or fly away. But the library?

Closed doors, one entrance, uncaring patrons... what was he supposed to do?

Run. That was about all he could do. He could hear the thundering footsteps race up the stairs and he ran the opposite direction, hoping to at least evade them long enough. Once their footsteps were concentrated, he leapt down from the balcony again, sweeping his wings once to make for a lighter landing before disappearing between the shelves. He was far more quiet than the other men but not unnoticeable.

Foot by foot, step by step, he rushed forward. Lucius pieced through the shelves, making his way toward the front door again. A little bit farther and he'd be out and he'd be free.

He just hoped Milo would be okay as well. Granted, Milo had a lot more experience in this field apparently. Should he have taken things more seriously? No... not... at all, right? There was no way on earth that college aged kids were this petty, right?

Who was he kidding? There were wars fought over less.

Lucius looked behind him, risking a quick glance. One of them was definitely trailing him now, rushing forward. He slowed, briefly, which Lucius didn't quite understand.

He then understood when he collided with someone else, stumbling backwards with a short gasp. "Oh--my goodness, I am so sorry," he said quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"Sorry won't help you now," the man chuckled, coming to stop a respectable distance away from the other man. "Down jacket? Feather pillow...?" He mused lightly, looking up toward the other "evil" side student, Asrifeon. He had a reputation. A nasty reputation.

Sapphire eyes from the young man swiveled between the aggressive man and the unfortunate passer-by he had run into. The passerby, apparently, also was a part of the dark-aligned group. Which was why he flinched visibly when Feo reached out. Lucius waited for the first twinge of a plucked feather but paused in confusion when the pinch of pain didn't come. Instead, the other man pushed him aside, walking forward with a fluid and silent motion.

The sound of skin connecting with skin was sharp and split the silence of the library like a gunshot. Lucius opened his mouth in surprise, his eyes wide. He could just do that? He could go up to another dark-aligned student and not only give them a crisp palm across the face, but then to deliver a well placed gut punch.

Lucius shook his head lightly, taking only a step back. His hand lifting to steady himself on a nearby shelf. As the other man turned to look back at him, he spoke. The accent caught him off-guard just slightly.

This was going to be a long school year and a part of him was regretting listening to friends and coming closer to home. His old college didn't have this kind of thing--the sharp vibrance between light and dark and the hollow tension that rose up between students and staff apparently.

It took Lucius a good few moments before he shook his head. Where were the others he had mentioned? He really didn't have a clue.

Which was what he vocalized, "I-I don't know," he finally said, voice shaking just slightly, "I really don't know... sir..."

The latter title was added partially out of habit and partially out of some underlying fear. While he wasn't sure if he owed his safety to this apparently "dark-aligned" student, he also wasn't sure if this message he was sending was a "back-off, I'm going to deal with him" sort of message either. "Milo... he's smart," he stammered lightly, "he'll figure a way out..."

Probably. Milo was used to dealing with things like this. Apparently. Lucius had a lot of questions as to why on earth this was happening.

"Do... do I thank you or is that... taboo?" Lucius finally tried to gather some of his courage, waving one hand as the previous aggressor stumbled back through the shelves. "I... I really don't know and honestly--what is happening? Dark-aligned? Neutral? Actually--why is this happening?" Lucius turned his voice, a far more tart tone, "I'm just here for a degree. Don't... don't bother answering any of those," he waved his hand lightly, "it's fine. I'll figure it out."

| "Protection is not just a duty; it is a bond formed in the face of vulnerability." |

~

Feo couldn't suppress the brief flicker of amusement that crossed his features at the words spoken by the other.

Sir? That was a new one. This individual either possessed a sense of humor or was entirely naive—both of which struck Feo as oddly endearing.

Instead of commenting on this peculiar address, he opted to simply echo the name. “Milo?” He recalled the neutral he had observed earlier. Milo had seemed intelligent yet unremarkable, leading Feo to believe that there was no need for protection. In contrast, this winged second-year student clearly appeared to be someone who required safeguarding. It was evident that he wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone defend himself against an aggressor.

Feo listened intently to the request made by the boy, choosing not to answer any of the questions posed nor to pose any of his own. He took a step back, falling into silence, focusing on the sounds around him, particularly the echo of boots. Perhaps the other had heard his unfortunate friend and had already taken their leave.

As he looked down at the other, his eyes scanned over the boy’s form, curiosity seeping into his gaze. The most disconcerting aspect of this encounter was how much he reminded him of Annasia—someone he loathed and preferred not to think about. Yet, at the same time, the boy evoked memories of standing atop the highest peaks of Asgard, watching the sun cast its golden glow over the kingdom. That memory was refreshing, yet Feo resented the fact that he found himself so captivated by this person he'd never met. There was an innocence in his features that ignited a fierce protective instinct within Feo, one that he did not know he had, and one that he did not quite understand why he had. It was as if he was unwittingly inviting Feo to take on the mantle of a protector, a role he had not anticipated but found himself increasingly drawn toward.

His mind raced with thoughts of how to protect him. Feo felt a strong urge to confront anyone who dared to threaten this innocent student. Feo's heart pounded in his chest, not only from the adrenaline of the moment but also from the strange connection he felt toward this boy.

Someone had to be his bodyguard.

“Do you hear anything, featherbrain?” he muttered under his breath.

Feo shifted his stance, allowing himself to absorb the environment more fully. The air was charged with tension, and he could sense that something was amiss. He glanced around, scanning for any signs of potential threats. The rustling of pages and distant chatter of other students were the only sounds that reached his ears, but he remained alert, acutely aware of the boy's vulnerability.

Looking back kdown at him, Feo stepped closer to the second year, positioning himself as what he hoped the other would take as a shield between him and the uncertain world outside. He noticed the way his wings slightly trembled, a sign of anxiety that he didn't want to show. “Relax,” Feo said, his tone softer than before. "Can you tell me your name, and why those nut-brains were chasing you?"

This being in front of him was odd. He grew far more odd the longer he stuck around. There was something about him that had Lucius pausing. Perhaps the aura of edge around this being that kept him hanging on the cusp of his presence and yet not daring to really move yet either.

Lucius sighed after a moment or two, leaning most of his weight against the thick bookshelf. His sapphire gaze traveled upward toward the ceiling as he did his best to remind himself that it was a one-time event, not everyone was going to be like that. But if they were, he was ... he was going to have a really rough year. It was going to be a long, crappy, rough last year of college. Even despite his inner voice trying to change the tides, he had a feeling that he already knew what was going to happen.

This was fine. It was fine. He just had to get through the year and then he was gone, he didn't have to look back or do anything else. He could leave it all behind him and never speak of it again. All things hoping he came out of it with feathers to spare. That was his main concern. Feathers--

The murmuring of the student brought him back down to where he was in the library and out of his thoughts. He tilted his head briefly, wondering if he had heard his supposed rescuer or another student nearby. It wasn't entirely clear but he had moved only slightly as the other stepped forward.

"Relax?" Lucius echoed lightly, almost incredulously. Sure, it was that easy to just relax after being chased down. That was... totally easy. One of those ... easier said than done things.

"Lucius Zeller," he responded, answering the questions dutifully if not a bit tartly. "I can't say I understand it but supposedly, it had to do with the dark-aligned, neutral and my feathers. Not that I know why, it's not like these," he gestured back to the wings, "do anything magical. They're just there. That's it. There's no magic properties, nothing you can get from them. It's just wings.... that's... that's all I am. Wings."

The admission slid from his lips a bit more reluctantly, pushing the idea that Lucius was nothing special. He had no fancy abilities, his feathers weren't like the children of Horus or anything where they could have potential magic infused in their feathers. That wasn't him. He was just... Lucius. Which was partially why the chase had rattled him, he wasn't special enough to get bullied, or attacked or even harassed. What had changed?