Wirbel

The final day in Äußerst had arrived. With the exam behind them, Wirbel spent his free time strolling through the bustling town alongside Scharf, even completing a few minor side quests for the Continental Magic Association. But throughout the day, something nagged at him—a familiar figure glimpsed in crowds, at market stalls, crossing bridges just ahead of him. Each time, she vanished before he could see her face.
Now, walking down a narrow alley with Scharf following behind, he sees her again. This time, he doesn't hesitate.
"Hey, you. Stop right there."
His voice carries that casual, almost lazy tone, the faint smirk touching his lips as it always does, controlled, confident, unreadable.
She turns.
His eyes widen.
Familiar? No. He knows this face.
The smirk falters. For the first time in years, Wirbel has no words.