Moonlight bathed the dorm room in silver as the stars shifted across the glass-paned sky. Celeste lay motionless in her bed, the illusion still clinging to her skin like a second layer—drab hair, dull face, faded eyes. But beneath it, the real her trembled.
The echo of Aries still burned faintly in her chest.
She turned toward the wall, listening to Lyra's soft, steady breathing. The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
Sleep came late. Rest, even later.
____________
The morning sun trickled through the dorm window, casting warm gold across the stone floor. Celeste stirred as Lyra yawned from the other bed, arms flailing in all directions like a lazy wind spirit.
"Mmmgh… we have class today, right? What time is it?"
Celeste sat up, already dressed in her uniform, plain and unmarked. "Thirty minutes to spare."
"You're a time-wizard, I swear," Lyra grumbled, flopping over before jolting upright. "Wait—breakfast first, right? Please tell me Astralis serves something better than boiled roots and disappointment."
"They have a dining hall," Celeste replied, pulling her cloak tighter. "Supposedly vast. And magical."
"Magical pancakes?" Lyra's eyes lit up.
Celeste didn't respond, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward slightly.
__________
The dining hall of Astralis Institute was massive—vaulted ceilings of mirrored crystal, glowing sigils floating through the air to mark tables by region and diet. Dishes refilled themselves with a flicker of light. Students gathered in clusters, laughing, chattering, or trying to wake up.
Celeste kept her eyes down and her hood up.
She and Lyra settled near the back, where the tables weren't too crowded. Lyra immediately began piling food onto her plate—eggs that shimmered, fruit that sparked faintly with magic, and something suspiciously jiggly.
Celeste took toast. Dry. Simple. Forgettable.
"So," Lyra said between bites, "how bad do you think our first class will be? On a scale from 'fire drill' to 'accidental portal to the void'?"
"I'd prefer fire," Celeste murmured.
They stood to return their trays once they were done—but as Celeste turned around, she didn't see the figure coming around the corner.
She walked straight into a wall of warmth and red.
The tray in her hands clattered to the floor.
"Oh—!" she gasped, stumbling back.
Strong hands steadied her instantly.
"Woah there—careful."
Celeste looked up, heart skipping.
Auren Drakaris stood before her, a half-eaten pastry in one hand, eyes wide—amber-gold and amused. His red and gold training jacket hung loosely off one shoulder, and his grin practically radiated confidence.
"I didn't see you coming," Celeste blurted, instinctively, trying to gather her tray.
Auren blinked, cocked his head, and said with exaggerated offense, "I'm almost one-eighty tall. Built like a walking bonfire. How did you not see me?"
Celeste flushed beneath her illusion. "I… wasn't paying attention. Sorry."
He raised a brow. "Not paying attention, huh?" He leaned forward just slightly. "You know, it takes real effort to miss this much handsome in one direction."
Celeste froze. She didn't know how to respond to that.
Lyra had turned around by now, witnessing everything with wide, fascinated eyes.
"I said sorry," Celeste muttered, trying to move past him.
But Auren stepped sideways, not blocking her path completely—just enough to linger.
"You're new, right?" he asked, still grinning. "What's your name?"
"Celeste," she said quietly. Then caught herself. "Celeste Vira."
Auren repeated the name slowly, tasting it like it was part of a riddle. "Celeste Vira. Sounds like starlight and secrets."
She looked away. "It's just a name."
"Everything's just something until it means more," Auren said, then shrugged as if he hadn't just dropped a philosophical bomb.
Celeste wanted to vanish.
"Well," Auren said, stepping back finally, "since you clearly have trouble noticing important people, consider this your formal introduction."
He struck a dramatic pose, hand to heart. " I am Auren Drakaris, the future dragonlord and an occasional menace."
Celeste stared at him.
"…Right," she said dryly. "I'll… try not to bump into you next time."
"Don't worry," Auren replied with a wink, turning to leave. "I bump into fate all the time. Sometimes, it bumps back."
Then he disappeared into the crowd, just like that—casual, confident, annoying.
Celeste exhaled only when he was gone.
Lyra looped her arm through hers, grinning. "Well that was a spark."
"It was… loud," Celeste muttered.
But deep inside her, something fluttered.
Not fire. Not magic.
Just the strange, foreign warmth of being seen.
And that terrified her more than any flame.