I Just Wanted to Graduate, Now I'm Stuck in the Apocalypse

Shaira stared at the ground where the Shield of Nyra sat embedded like a tree rooted in stone. Her hands ached. Her back felt like it carried two invisible sacks of rice—emotional and physical strain. The shield was connected to the ground, sealed with old energy, and trying to lift it with magic felt like trying to uproot a mountain.

"Seriously? This was supposed to be training, not a nightmare with muscles," Shaira muttered, glaring at Nyra.

Nyra, standing nearby with crossed arms, didn't flinch. Her sculpted Amazonian build and lionhearted aura made her look like someone who could arm-wrestle a minotaur for fun and win.

"Focus," Nyra said, her tone sharp as steel. "You did better than yesterday. Again."

"Pweh! That was awful," Shaira said as she staggered off the training mat, flopping beside Reika. "I don't want to be trained by her anymore. She wants to kill me with optimism and oversized gym equipment."

Reika giggled, cheeks puffing adorably as she held a chilled cup of Petal Breeze, a magical pudding-like drink that shimmered pink under the sunlight.

"But you lifted it a little today!" Reika chirped. "I tried once, and it didn't even budge. You moved it like… two inches!"

"Two inches closer to the grave," Shaira said, wiping her forehead. "I felt like my eyes were about to fall out with how hard I was focusing."

Reika watched her with glowing admiration, like Shaira was a comic book hero come to life. It made her feel flattered—and a little awkward.

"Reika," Shaira said, side-eying the younger girl. "Why are you still following me? We already had breakfast, walked through the stream, and now you're watching me train and following me to the library?"

Reika tilted her head and swung her legs like a child sitting on a floating leaf. "I'm curious! You're the Etoile. My father says you're like a blessing that fell from the sky."

"More like a confused meteorite," Shaira muttered.

"I want to know what makes you strong," Reika continued, ignoring the comment. "Even if you say you're normal, the way you talk, the way you think… you're different."

Shaira smiled faintly. "It's not that I'm strong. I just keep getting dragged into wild things. And I'm still figuring out how to control my powers. Until I find the Seal of Kaldris, my summoning skills are… unstable."

Reika's eyes sparkled. "I'll help you! I'll read books and find the seal with you!"

"You don't have to—"

But Reika was already flipping through books in the magical library like a child on a treasure hunt, occasionally stopping to look at pictures since the actual text bored her. Shaira sighed. How could she say no to that?

---

Nemi appeared like a puff of lavender smoke beside a shelf, carrying a scroll and writing something with a gleaming ink feather.

"Oh, glad you're here," Nemi said cheerfully.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

"I'm writing a historical novel based on you. Very inspiring stuff."

"…Wait. Based on me? As in—me me?"

Nemi smiled and handed her the scroll. "Here. Read it."

Shaira unrolled it and skimmed. Her jaw dropped.

Each word captured exact moments. Her thoughts. Her emotional spirals. Her small mutterings, her internal commentary. Even her craving for garlic fried rice during breakfast.

"H-How could you know all this?!"

"The tattoo on your wrist. It's not just for protection. Chief Rei and I made a pact to track your story. After the world forgot the previous Etoile, we decided we wouldn't lose this one again."

Shaira's brow furrowed. "This is… too much. You even recorded my private thoughts."

Nemi waved a hand. "Oh, relax. This scroll isn't public. And honestly, I can't even remember everything I wrote. You live so dramatically, my hand can't keep up. Also, I only write when I'm in the library."

Shaira clutched her forehead. "This is going in the historical record? My breakfast thoughts?"

"I'm currently on the part where you fought with Chief Rei," Nemi added proudly.

"Unbelievable…"

Shaira escaped the conversation by heading to the nearest shelf labeled History of Raco Land. She pulled a dusty tome and began flipping through the pages. Surprisingly, it was a page-turner—dense but written like a mythological epic. Stories of ancient treaties between beastfolk clans, war forged alliances, and tales of past leaders. However, one thing stood out the most: Every Etoile had to introduce themselves to the entire city.

Shaira's stomach dropped. "I'm supposed to introduce myself to everyone here?"

"Oh, you're thinking about the Greeting Ritual," Nemi said, appearing again like a sneeze ghost. She handed Shaira a folded scroll. "Here's the list. All names. With jobs. And family crests."

Shaira opened it—and nearly choked.

"This is too much. There are at least two hundred people on this list!"

"No pressure," Nemi said with a grin. "Just one at a time. Think of it as making friends… painfully slowly."

"I'm not built for this kind of social torture."

"Don't worry. Many of them will come to you when they hear who you are. You're the talk of Raco Land. Etoile with a summoning pact? You're like a walking myth wrapped in cinnamon bread."

"…Why cinnamon bread?"

"Because everyone likes you, but no one really knows what's inside."

Shaira groaned. "That's oddly accurate."

---

Later that afternoon, while she flipped through a section about The Great Etherian War, Reika tugged her sleeve. "I found a drawing of the Seal of Kaldris!"

"You did?" Shaira leaned closer.

Reika held out a page showing a star-like crest surrounded by glyphs and vines, embedded into a mountain altar.

"It says it's located in the Ridge of Auma," Reika said. "But no one has reached it in years because of the 'Veil of Stagnation'—a fog that traps travelers in illusions."

"Of course it does," Shaira mumbled. "Nothing here comes easy."

Reika smiled brightly. "But now we know where to start!"

Shaira gave her a slow, grateful smile. "Thanks, Reika. You really are a little light in all this weirdness."

Reika blushed and bounced on her heels. "You're welcome!"