CHAPTER 562: THE CHAOTIC TRIO REUNITES

Opening the door, Liam found himself staring at a familiar face—Dylan. The boy looked almost exactly as Liam remembered, save for the slightly longer blond hair brushing lightly against his forehead.

"If it isn’t mister popular himself," Dylan announced with a grin so wide it nearly split his face. He spread his arms in an exaggerated welcome, his voice bursting with dramatic flair. "Damn, man, you had a lot of people worried about you, ya know."

"Good to see you too, Dylan," Liam replied, his tone calm as ever. "How did you know this was my room?"

"I didn’t," Dylan admitted with a carefree shrug. "I just knocked for the fun of it. I got the same room number as before, so I figured I’d try my luck and see if you’d end up here too." His grin sharpened with triumph. "And looks like I was right, huh?"

’Looks like he had the same logic as I did,’ Liam mused.

His gaze drifted past Dylan’s shoulder, landing on a pile of luggage sitting in front of the room directly across from his.

"Did you just get here?" Liam asked, still composed.

"Huh?" Dylan muttered before turning around to see what Liam meant. The moment his eyes landed on his own luggage, a sheepish smile spread across his face. "Oh—yeah, I literally just arrived. And actually, the reason I knocked was because I kinda need help bringing the rest of my stuff up here." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

Liam shot him a dry, judgmental look before releasing a quiet breath through his nose. "Alright then. Let’s get going," he said, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him.

"Ah, you’re the best, man," Dylan said enthusiastically as they made their way down the hallway. "By the way, where the hell have you been? I mean, yeah, the lockdown and all that explains some things, but I’m talking way before that. You basically went—" He flicked his fingers outward with a dramatic pop. "—poof. You just never came back to school after..." He paused mid-step, trying hard to recall the moment. "After whenever that was. You had everyone worried, dude. Especially the girls. You know how crazy they get over you. How could you just disappear like that?" he asked as they descended the stairs.

Liam let out a light scoff. "Looks like that mouth of yours still doesn’t know when to rest, huh?" he said, glancing sideways at Dylan.

"What can I say? It’s a gift," Dylan replied proudly, throwing his hands up as if presenting an award-winning masterpiece.

Liam rolled his eyes ever so slightly, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I bet it is," he muttered.

Reaching the bottom floor where the rest of Dylan’s luggage sat waiting, Liam and Dylan caught the voice of the front-desk lady, the same woman who had shown them to their rooms earlier. She was assisting another student, her tone gentle and practiced as she pointed out directions. From where Liam stood, all he could see was the back of the boy’s head, but something about that silhouette tugged at his memory.

"Room fifteen is just on the second floor. Take the left hallway once you reach the top of the stairs," the woman said sweetly as she handed him a dorm key.

"Thank you," the boy replied, his voice calm and steady as he accepted the key with a flicker of resignation crossing his expression.

He glanced at the stack of luggage arranged beside him—enough to make anyone groan—and sighed in defeat. "This is going to be such a pain," he muttered under his breath.

He bent slightly, reaching for the first bag, when a familiar, overly energetic voice echoed behind him.

"Oh my stars, what are the odds we run into this hot-headed mummy’s boy again?" Dylan’s teasing tone filled the lobby as he came into view with Liam in tow.

The boy straightened and turned, revealing a face that had changed only subtly since Liam last saw it. Asher’s hair had grown longer, though the sides remained cleanly faded as always. His blue eyes lit up momentarily at the sight of them—then immediately twitched with irritation at Dylan’s words.

"What the hell did you just call me, you freaking clown?" Asher snapped, snorting like someone who desperately wished they hadn’t been found in a vulnerable moment.

"Damn," Dylan said, stopping dramatically mid-stride as if deeply wounded. He stared at Asher with an exaggeratedly blank expression. "Guess that temper of yours is still alive and kicking, huh? Tsk, tsk. How your family must have suffered with such an irresponsible child under their roof." His voice dripped with mock pity.

Asher’s eye twitched harder, a smirk creeping slowly along his lips as a single vein pulsed near his temple. "You really know how to get on my nerves, don’t you, Blondie?"

"What can I say? I live for these moments," Dylan answered with a proud flourish, as if he were accepting applause from an invisible audience.

Asher stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head with a sigh, as though giving up on trying to decipher Dylan’s entire existence. When his gaze shifted, it landed directly on Liam, who had been standing quietly, observing.

"Well, well. If it isn’t mister ’I can disappear from school and reappear whenever I feel like it,’" Asher said with a deadpan expression. "Good to know you’re still alive, weakling."

"Same goes for you, buzz cut," Liam replied, leveling him with a calm stare. "Though I can’t really call you that anymore with how long your hair’s gotten."

"Fuck off," Asher muttered, his snort sharp and dismissive.

Liam arched a brow, letting a devious glint settle into his crimson eyes. "Does mummy know her son is using such terrible words behind her back?" he asked, voice low and loaded with mischief.

Asher flinched—just barely—but scoffed a second later, a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. "Well, would you look at that. The brooding bastard finally developed a sense of humor." His eyes narrowed with amusement. "I’m truly going to enjoy this year."

"Whoa, that was quite the reunion greeting," Dylan said after a heartbeat, glancing between the two boys who looked like they were moments away from either fighting or laughing. "Anyway, looks like you need help with your luggage too, huh?"

Asher blinked, then finally looked back at the mountain of bags behind him. "Yeah. I almost forgot about that because of you two dweebs."

"Damn, man, you really need to work on how you talk to people," Dylan said with mock disappointment, shaking his head as if Asher were a lost cause. "Anyway, since that’s the case, why don’t we help each other out? With Liam’s help, the three of us can get everything done fast. Yeah?"

Asher turned to him briefly before looking at Liam, scanning the area as if expecting to find a pile of his belongings somewhere. "Where’s your stuff?"

"Already upstairs," Liam said simply.

Asher scoffed, nodding in acceptance. "Alright. Let’s get to it then."

"Alright, alright, boys—let’s move it," Dylan declared with a dramatic clap of his hands, as if leading a theatrical troupe. They each bent to grab a portion of the luggage, and soon enough the three of them began their trek up the stairs, back and forth, loading and unloading without missing a beat.

From behind the counter, the front-desk lady watched them go with a warm smile, her eyes softening as she observed the chaotic but earnest teamwork. The playful banter, the easy insults, the unspoken loyalty—it all painted a clear picture.

"They really are friends," she murmured fondly before shifting her focus to the stream of new students entering the building, her welcoming smile returning easily as the doors opened once more.

Back upstairs, the trio wrapped up the final stretch of work, each step feeling heavier after hauling luggage up and down the stairs multiple times. Asher pushed the last of Dylan’s bags into his room and set it down with a solid, resounding thud that rattled the floorboards just enough for him to glare at the box like it had personally offended him.

"What the hell is in here, you damn clown?" Asher demanded, rubbing his shoulder as he turned sharply toward Dylan.

"Nothing much, just a few things for my Alchemy class," Dylan said with a mischievous grin that practically screamed trouble. He nudged the box with his foot. "Wanna take a look?"

Asher stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowing as if he could see through cardboard. He leaned closer for a moment, then straightened. "No. I’d rather not."

"Oh, c’mon, man, it’s cool, I swear." Dylan insisted, wiggling his brows like a salesman trying to pull off a questionable deal.

"I said no, dammit." Asher snapped, annoyance rising like steam.

Unphased, Dylan turned toward Liam with a sudden shift of enthusiasm. "What about you, Liam? You wanna see it, right?"

Liam, who had been standing by the window observing the view—one noticeably different from the angle of his own room—didn’t even bother to fully turn around. Hearing his name, he cast a brief glance over his shoulder. "I’ll pass as well," he said calmly before returning his attention outside.

"For fire affinity users, you guys are seriously no fun at all," Dylan complained loudly, dropping into a dramatic pout that looked painfully exaggerated.

Asher shot him a flat, judgmental stare before rolling his eyes hard enough to almost strain something. He then shifted his focus toward Liam. "Hey, weakling," he called out, his tone blunt but not unfriendly. "You know, back in Solara, you’re actually pretty famous."

"Oh—oh! That’s what I was talking about earlier," Dylan said quickly, snapping his fingers as if connecting dots that had been obvious from the start. "Your name is trending like crazy in Crescent too."

"His name?" Asher muttered with a raised brow, seeming genuinely curious for once.

"Yeah, man," Dylan said, bouncing slightly on his heels. "What? Back in Solara, isn’t his name known there?"

"No, not exactly," Asher said, shrugging before glancing back at Liam. "Just the fact that he’s a dark mage. And apparently the son of the late Serah Magna."