Star Festival: The Midnight Spectacle

The Corridor One bathes in a soft, luminous glow, stretching endlessly, a testament to the grandeur of the academy. This grand outdoor hallway, a vital link that joins grade to grade, is decked in shimmering decorations that twinkle in harmony with the floating lanterns above. Stalls line both sides, featuring everything from intricate magical artifacts to delectable treats.

Floating banners, animated by spells, ripple overhead, their hues shifting in a vibrant dance. Large red holographic screens beam continuously, displaying the event's schedule and occasionally shifting to offer fun tidbits about the triple moons and their legacy in the annals of history.

A cacophony of voices fills the corridor, a blend of laughter, excited shouts, and the distant hum of negotiation. Everyone eagerly awaits midnight, when the three moons—red, white, and blue—will perform their celestial dance, a rare phenomenon that graces this world once in a while.

Melodies drift through the air, a harmonious blend of traditional strings and magical notes. Here and there, spontaneous dances erupt, each participant swaying, tapping, and twirling to the rhythm.

The intermingling of medieval architectural elements, from grand arches to intricately carved stone designs, melds effortlessly with the advanced magic technology. Enchanted platforms hover above the ground, screens showcase dynamic content, and stalls seem to levitate, proving the zenith of magical prowess.

As dusk deepens, the atmosphere intensifies. Storytellers amass keen listeners, spinning tales of moonlit heroes from ages past. Magicians dazzle with spellbinding performances, invoking wonder and applause.

The closer midnight draws, the more palpable the anticipation becomes. The sounds of festivities begin to diminish, replaced by a collective hush. Everyone's gaze drifts upwards, yearning for the moon's alignment.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Perched on the rooftop of one of the academy's grand edifices, the sprawling spectacle of the Star Festival unfolds beneath me. The Corridor One's vivid display appears more subdued from this altitude, but no less majestic. To my left, Lysandra shifts, the dim light of the moons playing off our matching suits.

I glance down at the attire. A juxtaposition of stark white and deep black, the suit melds seamlessly around our forms. The material is smooth, giving an almost ethereal glow, especially under the lunar light. The half-white, half-black masks obscure our faces entirely, blending almost too well with the suit, making it difficult for anyone to discern our features or expressions. They're intricately designed, each twist and curve deliberate, embodying the fusion of stealth and elegance.

Lysandra, never one to beat around the bush, tilts her head at me, scrutinizing the fabric. "What's with these new clothes? Why aren't we using the black ones?"

My teeth grind against each other involuntarily. "Because you decided to fight Isadora with it! What do you think will happen if she sees you in that?" I stretch out my arms, my fingers flexing. "It's not just her, Liam and Aira saw the style as well."

Lysandra grumbles, rubbing her throat, her voice slightly distorted by the magical voice changer. "This magic voice changer is annoying. Anyways, why aren't we down there? Didn't you give them a bunch of your recipes? I want to eat."

"Eat. Of course, that's all you can think of right now," I muse, more to myself than her. I let out a sigh, my breath dancing visibly in the cold night air. "You have no idea just how big this festival is." Pulling my white gloves, I tighten them, the fabric snug against my skin. "There's going to be someone trying to cause some problems. Normally, I wouldn't do anything about it, but since a particular person is not in the academy, I have to clean up the mess... A very bothersome one."

She scoffs. "You're just upset you can't be down there, shoving your face with all those treats."

"Hey, I have self-control," I retort.

"Last week you ate all of my chocolate truffles."

"That was an accident."

Lysandra smirks, her eyes glittering with mischief. "Right, just like it was an 'accident' when you spilled that potion all over me."

Clearing my throat, I shoot Lysandra a sidelong glance. "Stop acting like you're not responsible for the food shortage in the cafeteria." The audacity of her. As if she hadn't devoured all resources the kitchen had to offer multiple times. "Seriously, you have the nerve to talk shit when you can eat twenty steaks in one go."

Lysandra yawns, stretching out like a lazy cat on the roof tiles. "Why don't you just have someone else do it? Aren't you the type to set up situations with ease?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, focusing instead on the festival below. Using a spell I picked up – a handy one for reconnaissance – I enhance my vision, scanning the crowd meticulously. Not him... not him either... where is that guy...

"I can't, not this time," I say, the frustration evident in my voice. "I was blind back in the forest and I let him go by mistake." That crafty, ever-changing trickster, Kaleidos. His name itself, inspired by the kaleidoscope, is an indirect nod to his chameleonic abilities. "That bastard found the loophole in the contract. I purposefully set it up, but to exploit it, you need to think outside the box. Now, I've lost his location."

Lysandra pushes herself up slightly, propping on her elbow. "Kaleidos? He's in the academy grounds? That's bold."

"And that's the problem," I think aloud, my gaze never leaving the throngs of people below. "What face is he wearing now?" Kaleidos was not only a master of deception but also a shapeshifter of the highest order. Spotting him was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

Lysandra chuckles. "Guess even Mr. Perfect here can screw up. How did you let someone like that slip through?"

I sigh, the weight of my oversight bearing down on me. "There was a lot happening back in the Obsidian Forest. It's not exactly easy keeping track of someone who can become anyone."

I rise abruptly, my impatience spurring me into action. "Come on, let's jump a couple of buildings." Movement is essential, especially when the target is as slippery as Kaleidos.

Lysandra stretches languidly, popping a joint or two. "Hey, didn't you say before that a professor would come after us if they sense us on top of a building?"

Without a word, I retrieve a small device from my pocket. "This is a security-grade sigil." I explain, feeling a smirk tug at the corner of my lips. "The Academy hires professionals, thoroughly vetted, to keep an eye out and prevent anything stupid from happening. I got it from Ayla." 

Lysandra raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Just how do you control her? I don't get it."

I pocket the sigil again. "Let's go. As long as I have this, they'll think I'm from security and won't bother us."

Without waiting for a response, I bound forward, pushing off the edge of the rooftop. The wind rushes past me as I leap, landing gracefully on the next building. Lysandra follows close behind, her landing more elegant than mine, which I'd never admit out loud. Well... She is lounder, the technique I'm using is meant for stealth. 

As she straightens up, she places her hands behind her neck, walking alongside me with an air of casualness. "I'm not going to ask you how you know him since you won't say... but just what is he after?"

The night envelopes us, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the festival below. What could he possibly want here? "Hmm..." I mull over the possibilities. Given his skills, it isn't raw power he's after, but rather... "Some techniques, I guess," I muse aloud.

She narrows her eyes, clearly not impressed. "That's your brilliant deduction? Techniques?"

Ignoring her sarcasm, I gaze into the distance, zeroing in on the senior area – a section of the academy that houses some of the most potent magical artifacts and techniques. "That bastard would have the guts to head to the senior area. Let's go."

-

Perched on the edge of a building overlooking the senior area, the lively atmosphere below is palpable, even from this distance. The place is teeming with seniors, their laughter and conversations blending into a harmonious cacophony. Given their demeanor, it's clear they're having the time of their lives, probably due to the copious amounts of alcohol and magic-induced merriment.

"Be careful. Our seniors might detect us," I caution, my voice barely above a whisper. Even though we have the sigil, it's best not to be too careless. Especially given the powerful, and often unpredictable, mages that populated the senior area. The senior area tends to have visitors and guests who try to win them over. 

Lysandra yawns dramatically, pointing to a group of dancing seniors. "Oh, come on. Do you really think he'd be dumb enough to dance around? And if he's as smart as you say, he's probably laughing at us, hiding in plain sight."

Brushing off her comment, I focus on the crowd, narrowing my eyes. "Try to spot anyone acting too normal," I instruct. "As you can see, our seniors are partying without a care in the world. He could be wearing any face, so I can't give you a description. He's most likely looking for someone; he might even try to drug them. Make sure you look properly."

She smirks, "Looking for someone 'too normal' in this chaos? Maybe he's the one serving drinks. Or better yet, maybe he's that statue in the corner. You do love overthinking things."

Trying not to let her get to me, I explain, "Kaleidos's strength solely depends on two things: his actual technique and the body he possesses. His physique is... peculiar." 

She stretches lazily, clearly not paying full attention, "Sounds like a lot of rules for a man to remember. Bet he forgets half of them."

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I continue, "He has a unique physique that allows him to alter his body based on luck. Every two weeks, he can change, and that altered body has its own magical affinity and talents. If he gets unlucky with a dud body, he simply reverts to his original form and waits out the fortnight."

She chuckles, "So, half the time he's playing magical dress-up and the other half he's waiting to play again. Fascinating." Just what the hell is going through Lysandra's head? 

I smirk, "He refuses to be a woman, though."

Lysandra laughs, "That narrows it down. So, we're looking for a guy who's too normal, but not normal enough to dance or drink. And definitely not a statue."

I click my tongue, an uneasy feeling gnawing at me. "Shit... there's no way that's him, right?" My eyes lock onto a man with clean red hair, intently watching someone in the distance. A sinking realization hits me: he's staring at Riya.

"Fuck, is this idiot seriously going after the bloody 'princess'?" I mutter. Though she's not royalty in the traditional sense, Riya's future legend – the tale of her single-handedly decimating an entire army, emerging triumphant covered in nothing but blood – essentially makes her one. Knowing that I wrote her story, knowing her impending strength, doesn't lessen the alarm coursing through me.

She isn't someone to trifle with. "You absolute dumbass!" I curse under my breath, guilt suddenly weighing heavy on me. If we hadn't met in that forest, things might have taken a different route. Now Riya, who possesses one of the most coveted attributes, might potentially kill this moron. Shit, he's too useful to die.

"Tsk," I hiss, my mind racing to find a solution. An idea begins to form, "Okay, think. If he manages to drug her and she passes out, I can handle him before she wakes up." However, if she manages to wake up or is pretending to sleep... it will be hard to live through her anger. I didn't write much about her before the time skip but when I did write about her, she killed anyone she considered a threat.