The courtyard noise faded, dissolving into the echoes of memory.
Lily's clenched hands trembled as Sukai pulled her away. Her mind drifted back—to a younger time.
A boy stood before her, wooden sword in hand, sweat dripping from his forehead. His stance was awkward, his swings sloppy, but his eyes carried fire far stronger than hers.
Riven.
He had no mana, no spark, no flame, no chance—yet he swung that sword until his palms blistered and bled.
"Why do you keep training?" Lily asked him once, back when her flames spiraled uncontrollably from her small hands, scorching walls, melting toys, even burning her own hair. The other children stayed away, frightened. She was the cursed girl of fire.
Riven smiled then, sitting beside her on the scorched grass.
"Because if I can't be born with magic, then I'll make my own strength. If scars are what it takes, then scars I'll carry."
His words etched deep into her.
But the days only grew harsher. Her fire still raged beyond her control. His body still bled with training scars. They were two broken children, sitting at the edge of the Ignis estate where others whispered of failures.
And yet—whenever the world shunned them, they had each other.
Lily would cry, hands bandaged, whispering, "I'll never control it… I'll just keep hurting people."
Riven would press his forehead against hers, whispering back,
"Then let's promise this: your fire won't scare me, and my weakness won't shame me. We'll fight the world together."
For years, that promise bound them.
Until the academy. Until today—when she reached out, and he turned his back, blade in hand, walking a path that seemed to leave her behind.
The flashback cracked, vanishing like smoke.
Back in the present, Lily's steps faltered as Sukai tugged her further away. But in her heart, a memory still burned—not of failure, but of a boy who once promised never to let her fire scare him.
And for the first time in years, she wondered if joining Eclipse Faction was her only chance to keep that promise alive.