Gray meowed softly from the seat, tail flicking lazily. His azure eyes gave Aston a knowing look and then looked at the perched owl in his shoulders.

  Aston smirked. “Don’t get jealous. You’re still the first.”

  Gray meowed once again and leaped on Aston’s other shoulder.

  The Glasswing Owl adjusted itself on his shoulder, its crystalline feathers catching what little ambient light remained in the lounge. It gave another hoot, softer this time almost like acknowledgement.

  Aston stroked the owl’s chest gently with his finger, feeling the subtle hum of its spiritual presence now bound to his own.

  Perfect timing. With Dawn Crest Academy arriving in Shale City within the next five days, everything hinges on what I can prove before then.

  He glanced at the pendant tucked beneath his shirt - the elixir, the certificate, and now, the Glasswing Owl.

  I will need to head to the city hall for a private awakening to change my potential from “clear” to “red”. The academy doesn’t just take prodigies, they take all potentials. Even reds can get in if they pass the evaluations. The Scouting Department of the academy will be watching. With the Glasswing Owl, a perfect spirit beast for scouting, I will be standing out.

  Gray let out a low, curious meow from his shoulder. Aston turned, giving the kitten a light scratch below its jaw. “You’ll think I can get in Dawn Crest?”

  Gray licked his paw, unbothered at what Aston just asked. It was a kitten, what does it know about academies!

  He chuckled and stepped toward the exit with spirit beasts on both his shoulders.

  Aston stepped out of the lounge and back into the main corridor of the auction house. The crowd has thinned, replaced by the soft clinking of glasses and murmured conversations in the outer halls. Some of the children within the lounge, accompanied by their parents, looked at Aston and his newly contracted Glasswing Owl. They shot an envying glance before turning their attention back to their parents.

  Aston scanned the crowd, searching for the man behind paddle 208 - the one who had won the Voidheart Fragment.

  But the masked man was nowhere to be seen.

  Not surprising. Someone like that wouldn’t linger long in a public venue.

  Still, part of Aston wanted to know why the man had bid so decisively. Did he know what the fragment was?

  With no leads and no lingering presence of the masked man, Aston turned toward the exit. A silver-masked attendant nodded politely as he passed.

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  Outside, the chill of Shale City’s night brushed against his skin. The streets had quietened, cabs rolling by slowly under lamplight. Some of the auction-goers laughed lightly as they returned to their vehicles by the auction’s parking lot. Aston kept his pace steady, the owl perched calmly on one shoulder, and Gray snoozed on the other like the whole night had been no more than a long nap.

  He walked in silence for several blocks, letting his thoughts drift. The purchase of the elixir, the certificate, the academy - everything was beginning to align.

  He glanced sideways at the owl. Its crystalline feathers shimmered beneath the moonlight, catching a strange sort of glow.

  “I should probably stop calling you ‘owl’,” Aston murmured aloud.

  The bird blinked once, slow and unbothered, as if waiting for a better name.

  Aston thought for a moment, sifting through memories and impressions.

  Sharp. Quiet. Sees more than most.

  He looked at the owl again. Its form shimmered faintly, like a haze against the night sky. Always present, yet slightly unreal.

  “Mirage,” Aston said finally. “You will be called Mirage from now on.”

  The owl gave a soft hoot, the sound strange yet pleasant, almost like an approval.

  Gray, still half-asleep on his shoulder, stirred with a low, grumbly meow. He peeked one eye open and looked at the owl, then at Aston. A moment later, he turned his face away with an exaggerated flick of his tail, letting out a tiny, dismissive chirp.

  Aston grinned. “Don’t act like that. You’re still my number one.”

  Gray didn’t respond. But it didn’t hop off either.

  Soon, a neon-blue glow of a late-night restaurant sign caught Aston’s attention. A cozy-looking place tucked into a quiet corner. The golden script read Ember and Grain. This was a local establishment known for warm food and private booths.

  He stepped inside the place and a few curious looks from patrons greeted him. It wasn’t every day someone walked in with a kitten and a glass owl on his shoulders. The host asked him if he will be dining publicly or with a booth, in Aston’s response, “We want somewhere private.”

  Aston ordered something simple - steamed vegetables, a bowl of spirit grain porridge, and grilled fish. He also ordered another serving of the fish for Gray and steamed fowl with nuts and grain for Mirage.

  As the food arrived, Mirage settled beside him on the padded booth seat, unusually well-behaved. Gray, on the other hand, perked up the moment the dumplings arrived and swatted Aston’s hand until a piece of dumpling was torn off and placed in front of him.

  “You’re awake now, huh?” Aston teased.

  Gray gave him a smug blink before devouring his bite with alarming speed.

  Mirage, more dignified, took small, graceful pecks at the steamed nuts and the fowl. Each bite seemed almost ceremonial, but Aston could feel the light hum of spiritual energy it absorbed.

  The meal passed in peaceful silence, broken only by the occasional clink of chopsticks and Gray’s satisfied purring.

  Once the plates were cleared and the bill paid, Aston stepped back into the quiet street. The wind had picked up slightly, brushing against his shirt.

  He exhaled slowly, hand briefly resting over his pendant.

  “Almost there,” he whispered.

  Then, with Gray draped across his shoulders like a scarf and Mirage gliding slightly above them before swooping down to perch once more, he made his way back to the hotel for the night.