「The day after the exchange conference ended.」
In the evening, in the courtyard of No. 12 Golden Oak Street, the old Golden Oak Tree cast a long, slender shadow.
Ian sat on a stone bench beneath the tree, fiddling with an empty Crystal Bottle in his hands.
The residual starlight-blue traces on the bottle's inner wall shimmered faintly in the twilight.
Gaga was perched on his knee, its small head tilted, staring at the spots of light on the bottle as if lost in thought.
"Ian," it transmitted in a low voice.
"Are we... going to be watched by a lot of people, gaga?"
Ian's fingers gently caressed the bottle's surface, the cool touch spreading through his fingertips.
"Mm," he replied, his voice soft.
Just then, footsteps—more than one set—sounded from the front hall.
Ian looked up.
Aidele emerged from the corridor, followed by two people.
One was a Witch in a deep purple, silver-trimmed long robe who looked to be around thirty. Her features were gentle, her eyes clear.
