The golden-green cathedral of the grove gradually exhaled, the hyper-charged air settling into a heavy, fragrant stillness. **Siris** stood amidst the oversized ferns, her **long, powerful legs** still trembling slightly from the intensity of the Harvest. She looked down at the gold crest now shimmering faintly on the skin of her inner thigh—a permanent seal of the catalyst's light.
"I cannot return to the barracks yet," Siris murmured, her **emerald eyes** glowing with a newfound depth. "This energy... it is too vast. If I don't anchor it into the deep roots now, I will burn from the inside out."
Caelum nodded, watching the way her **athletic, sweat-slicked frame** seemed to pulse in time with the forest's heartbeat. "Go. Become the sovereign of these woods, Siris. When I call, the entire forest will answer through you."
With a final, lingering look of absolute devotion, the Knight-Scout vanished into the thicket, her **lithe silhouette** merging with the shadows as she sought the ancient World-Tree roots to refine her over-saturated power.
Caelum turned toward the Academy, **Mina** gliding silently at his side. Her **heavy, liquid hips** swayed with a predatory grace as they navigated the silent stone corridors toward the infirmary. He needed to check the stability of **Isolde** and **Elena**; the "thermal transition" he had initiated was delicate, and any fluctuation could be catastrophic.
As they approached the heavy oak doors of the medical wing, Caelum's **Gold Aether** spiked in warning. He signaled Mina to silence, and the two merged into the deep shadows of the arched hallway. Inside, through the narrow gap of the ajar door, the infirmary was bathed in a sickly, flickering violet light. It wasn't the clean logic of Vespera's Aether, but something colder—more parasitic.
**The Headmaster's Assistant**, a woman known only as **Kaelith**, stood between the beds.
Kaelith was a chilling beauty, her skin as pale as parchment and her hair a waterfall of **stark, ink-black silk**. She wore a high-collared charcoal gown that hid most of her frame, but the way the fabric pulled over her **sharp, narrow hips** suggested a body built for efficiency.
Her hands hovered over Isolde's chest. Strands of **Caelum's signature Gold Aether**—the residual "Mark" he had left to stabilize the girl—were being physically pulled out of Isolde's skin. Kaelith's **cold, amethyst eyes** rolled back as she inhaled the golden vapor, her throat working as she swallowed his essence.
"A potent vintage," Kaelith whispered, a thin, cruel smile touching her **pale lips**. "The Headmaster was right. The boy isn't just a catalyst... he's a feast."
She repeated the process with Elena, siphoning the protective gold film Mina had placed on the fire-mage's burns. Once the girls' auras had dimmed back to their original, flickering states, Kaelith vanished into a swirl of grey mist.
Caelum stepped into the room moments later, his brow furrowed in a dark, analytical scowl. Mina flowed across the floor, her liquid form sensing the "void" left behind.
"Master," Mina hissed, her **golden eyes** scanning the now-pale Isolde. "The nectar... it has been stolen. My seal is broken."
Caelum placed his hand on **Isolde's** forehead. She was shivering again, her skin returning to that brittle, icy chill. He looked over at **Elena**, whose fire was once again struggling to stay lit. He didn't immediately re-infuse them. Instead, he stood in the center of the sterile room, his mind racing through chemical permutations.
The Headmaster wasn't just observing his progress; he was **harvesting** it. Like a farmer stealing the first fruits of a neighbor's labor, Kaelith was collecting the "Byproducts" of Caelum's syntheses to fuel a separate, unknown reaction.
"They aren't just watching the experiment," Caelum murmured, his Gold Aether simmering with a quiet, lethal fury. "They are trying to replicate the catalyst through my waste."