The Extra's Rise

I barely had a second to process before a blur of silver crashed into me. Cold yet familiar arms wrapped around my neck, pressing against me with surprising force.

"Seraphina?" I muttered, momentarily stunned.

She looked up, ice-blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Her long silver hair framed her face, cascading like moonlight over my shoulder.

"Arthur," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

There was no hesitation, no unnecessary words. Just a statement of fact. As if saying my name was enough.

I held her back, feeling the way she clung to me—not desperately, not frantically, but completely. Seraphina didn't do things halfway. When she committed to something—or someone—it was absolute.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, still slightly breathless. The Academy dormitories were restricted. "How did you even get in?"

"Not important," she replied, her tone utterly dismissive. Of course. That was very Seraphina. Rules were mere suggestions to her, obstacles to be navigated around when they stood between her and what she wanted.

Her fingers traced lightly over my collar, barely brushing against my skin. The touch was feather-light, yet I felt it with startling clarity. Then, as if she had made some sort of decision, she lifted her chin slightly.

"I missed you," she admitted.

A rare thing for Seraphina to say.

She was never one for grand declarations or overflowing emotions. Her love wasn't loud like Rachel's, nor teasing like Cecilia's. It was subtle, like the quiet stillness before a snowfall.

And right now, that snowfall had settled completely on me.

I tilted her chin up, brushing my lips against hers. She tensed for a moment, then melted into me, her hands gripping the fabric of my jacket.

Her kiss was cool at first—careful, restrained. But the moment I deepened it, she exhaled softly, her fingers tightening against me as she gave in.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. I didn't know. Time felt irrelevant.

Finally, I pulled back, watching the way her usually composed face held the barest hint of warmth. A soft blush dusted her pale skin, her eyes just a little dazed.

"You've gotten better at that," she murmured, her voice level—but I caught the hint of something else beneath it. Something almost vulnerable.

I smirked, not needing to respond with words.

"I couldn't see you for much," she said after a while, her voice so quiet I almost missed it. "When you woke up."

"I know," I replied.

"It wasn't enough," she continued, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my chest. The touch was light, almost hesitant—unusual for Seraphina, who was always so certain in everything she did. "I needed to make sure you were really okay."

I understood what she wasn't saying. Seraphina, who prided herself on control and composure, had been worried. For someone like her, admitting even this much vulnerability was rare.

"I'm here now," I said, tightening my arms around her, feeling the slight chill of her skin against mine. Seraphina always ran cold, as if winter itself flowed through her veins.

She nodded once, a slight movement against my shoulder. "Good."

We stood there in silence for a moment longer, the evening light filtering through the dormitory window, casting long shadows across the floor.

"I should go," Seraphina finally said, though she made no move to leave.

"You could stay," I suggested, not quite ready to let her go. The thought of the empty room after she left seemed suddenly unbearable.

She pulled back slightly, studying my face with her penetrating gaze. Those ice-blue eyes missed nothing, cataloging every detail, every micro-expression. "That would be unwise."

"When has that ever stopped us?" I asked, allowing a small smile to form.

The corner of her mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Never."

Just like that, I picked her up and put her on my lap as I sat in bed. Her slight frame fit perfectly against me, as if she had been designed to occupy this exact space. Her cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of red—a stark contrast against her silver hair and pale skin.

"Arthur," she said, my name carrying a weight from her lips that it never did from anyone else's. Her hands found my shoulders, steadying herself. "I was so afraid... when I heard you fought a Bishop.. why did you do something so stupid?"

The question hung between us, heavy with everything she wasn't saying. Seraphina never wasted words; each one was carefully chosen, precisely delivered.

"I had to," I responded, meeting her gaze directly. No point in lying to her—she would see through it immediately.

Seraphina turned back, her eyes narrowing, the temperature in the room seeming to drop a few degrees with her displeasure. "I don't believe your genius brain couldn't come up with a better plan. I also heard from Rachel that you didn't call the Ascendant-rank Knight Captain till much later."

Of course Rachel would tell her that.

"Guilty as charged," I said as I pulled her in while putting my forehead on her shoulder, breathing in her scent—winter roses and frost. "That is correct. In the end, the plan I came up with was to end up fighting him."

"Why?" Seraphina urged, one cool hand coming up to rest against the back of my neck. Not pushing me away, but not letting me hide either.

"Cause.. I need to be stronger," I said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth. How could I explain the burning need that consumed me? The knowledge that I wasn't yet enough to protect what mattered?

"Even stronger?" she asked as I nodded. There was a note of confusion in her voice, barely perceptible but there. Seraphina had known me long enough to understand my drive, but not the depths of it.

I looked at Seraphina properly. She was stronger now, close to White-rank. She would reach White-rank by the time I reached low Integration-rank. The gap between us was closing, but still there—and that wasn't even accounting for the others, each powerful in their own right.

And yet, compared to what we faced...

"I want to protect all four of you, and for that, I need strength," I said as I kissed her forehead, a gesture that felt both tender and insufficient.

"Fool," she said as she pushed me down onto the bed, her silver hair falling around us like a curtain, isolating us from the rest of the world. Her eyes, usually so cold and controlled, now burned with an intensity that caught me off guard. "Think about how much we worry about you."

Then, she kissed me, her lips firm against mine, demanding a response.

"Think about how much it hurts us."

She kissed my lips again, more gently this time, a contrast that left me breathless.

"Think about how much my heart hurts."

She kissed again, the gesture becoming almost desperate.

"Think," she said, her voice choking as she pointed to her chest, a rare display of emotion from someone who guarded her feelings so carefully, "About how my heart which beats solely for you will be like when you are not around."

The tremble in her voice undid me. Seraphina, who faced down monsters without flinching, whose composure never wavered even in the direst circumstances, was allowing me to see her fear. Her vulnerability.

"Sera.." I said as she looked at me with a sad expression, one that seemed to age her beyond her years. In that moment, I could see all the losses she had endured, all the pain she had carefully hidden away.

"I love you," she whispered in my ear, her voice sending tingles all over my body, each word deliberate and weighted with meaning. "I want you so much that I was willing to declare war on Rachel for you. I will do anything for you.. so be mine."

The possessiveness in her tone didn't surprise me. Seraphina had always been territorial, had always seen the world in terms of what was hers to protect and what wasn't. What surprised me was the raw emotion behind it—the plea beneath the command.

I grabbed her and flipped us, going on top of her in one fluid motion. Her hair spread across my pillow like spilled moonlight, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden change in position.

She blinked as I kissed her deeply, pouring everything I couldn't say into the gesture. My apology for worrying her. My gratitude for her concern. My promise to try to be more careful, even knowing it was one I might not be able to keep.

Finally, we broke apart as I needed to breathe. She didn't, not yet—another reminder of how different she was, how unique.

"I love you too, Seraphina," I said, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cool skin. "And I'm sorry."

She studied me for a long moment, those ice-blue eyes seeing more than I wanted to reveal. "But you'll do it again, won't you? Risk yourself. Push too far."

It wasn't a question. She already knew the answer.

"I have to," I said quietly. "There's too much at stake."

Seraphina sighed, a soft sound that seemed to carry the weight of ancient winters. "I know." Her fingers traced the line of my jaw, feather-light. "That's why I haven't frozen you in place and locked you away somewhere safe."

The matter-of-fact way she said it made me chuckle, despite the seriousness of the moment. "You've considered it?"

"Daily," she admitted, the barest hint of a smile touching her lips. "Especially after the Bishop incident."

I leaned down to kiss her again, savoring the cool sweetness of her mouth. "I'll try to be more careful," I promised. It was the most I could offer.

"You won't," she countered, seeing through me as always. "But you might consider letting us help more. You're not alone, Arthur."

Her words struck deeper than I expected. The idea of putting any of them in danger made my chest tighten painfully, but she was right. I'd been trying to shield them, to carry the burden alone.

"I'll try," I said, meaning it this time.

Seraphina nodded, accepting my promise for what it was—not a guarantee, but a genuine effort. She pulled me down beside her, arranging us so that my arm served as her pillow, her back pressed against my chest.