One by one, the candles dwindled until only moonlight bled through the high dormitory window. Aurelia lay on her side, staring at the faint glow of runes carved into the ceiling beams.
Sleep would not come, not with the duel, a test of magical prowess, replaying in her mind, every mistake screaming louder than the last.
From the other side of the room came the faintest rustle of a page closing, then silence. For a moment, she thought Kael had finally gone to sleep.
Then she heard it, soft words, half-whispered, almost like a prayer.
"…not enough… still not enough."
Aurelia's brow furrowed. What?
There was a pause, then Kael's voice again, lower, ragged in a way she hadn't heard before. "I'll catch up. I have to. No matter what it takes."
The words didn't sound meant for her ears. They carried weight, desperation, even. A far cry from the calm, unreadable genius who had always seemed to have a plan, who had dismantled her in front of the Academy with a precision that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Aurelia shifted slightly under her blanket, her curiosity prickling against her pride. Catch up to who? Or what?
Maybe he wasn't truly a commoner. Could he be a spy or an assassin disguised as a scholarship student? It would explain why he was so skilled, and the moves had been so surgical and impossible.
She pictured it: Kael Arden, a blade in plain clothes, a planted agent of some rival house, trained, polished, sent with a purpose. The fantasy appeased her fury, letting her blame something outside herself.
If that's true, I was robbed. Not humiliated, robbed.
But the image didn't hold. The tremor in his voice returned to her memory, the ragged, tired cadence that didn't belong to a polished spy.
The way his shoulders had sagged once when he thought no one watched. The small, honest exhaustion in the line of his hands when he closed his book, the kind that comes from long hours of study and practice, not from a life of deceit.
He sounded like someone still chasing a debt owed to himself. How childish would I have to be to think that?
Aurelia's throat tightened. Her lips parted, the beginnings of a word forming, his name. A simple Kael… But the sound caught in her chest.
What could I even say? That I understood? That I pitied him? He would hate that.
So she stayed silent.
Instead, she lifted her blanket, turning her face toward the wall. Yet no matter how tightly she shut her eyes, his voice lingered, tugging at her. For the first time, her heart ached not for her humiliation but for his quiet, unseen struggle.
I thought he was above me… but maybe he's just as lost as I am.
The guilt weighed heavily, pressing into her chest. She could have spoken. She almost did. But she hadn't.
His business isn't mine…
———
The dawn bells of the Academy tolled like iron chimes, cutting through what little rest she had managed. Her eyes felt heavy, but her mind hadn't quieted since last night.
Why did I even care about what he said?
The question echoed in Aurelia's mind, a testament to her inner turmoil.
Kael slept soundly now, his chest rising and falling with the steadiness of someone unburdened, a testament to his quiet strength.
But I knew better. I had heard the tremor in his voice, the desperation in his whispered vow. For a moment, he hadn't been the untouchable genius who humiliated me in front of the entire Academy. He had been... human.
And that made it worse.
Aurelia swung her legs over the side of the bed, fingers curling into the blanket.
He's just a commoner. That's all he should be. Yet the image of him, hunched in the dim candlelight, whispering into the silence like a wounded thing, wouldn't leave me.
It pressed down on me heavier than my defeat, a reminder of the social tension that separates us.
Aurelia quickly shook it off, pulling open the wardrobe and reaching for her uniform robes, stepping behind a folding screen.
Nobles rise above. At least, that's what I told myself as I adjusted the silver clasp of my family crest.
But as the morning sun spilled across the runed floorboards, a treacherous thought flickered inside Aurelia:If even he feels like he isn't enough... then what does that make me?
Aurelia tugged her robe closed with a sharper motion than necessary and turned back toward the bed. Kael still slept, curled on his side, and the book fell open on his chest.
For a moment, she simply watched him, his breathing steady, shoulders rising and falling in the slow rhythm of someone finally allowed a few hours' peace.
If I don't wake him, he'll be late. He'll be scolded. The instructors will frown. Justice, at last.
The thought warmed her like a guilty ember, and she almost smiled.
Then the memory of his whispered words crept over her again, the ragged edge, the desperate vow, and something else edged into the ember.
How petty would that be? To gloat over a man who wakes at night whispering his own failures? It felt wrong...even if he was a commoner.
Aurelia crossed the room. She stood over him for a moment, hand hovering. "Wake up, Kael Arden. Don't make me bring you to the hall in shackles for being late."
"Get up," she said, voice clipped. "Class in half an hour. Move."
At first, he didn't stir. She gave the shoulder another, firmer shake. Finally, his eyes opened, slow and unfocused, then cleared as he blinked away sleep.
He sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and offered her a tired, genuine smile. "Thank you, Miss Caelistra. I—I would have slept through it," he said, standing and stretching, already alert.
"Be grateful, then," Aurelia snapped, though the edge of her voice had softened. "You would have been late."
Kael nodded, and there was a softness to the motion that made something uncoil deep in her chest. "I am," he said. "Thank you."
He moved to the wardrobe without ceremony and began to change. Aurelia expected the careful, measured movements of someone trained to be watched, polite, discreet.
Instead, he took off his tunic without worry, as if habit were more critical than manners. The plainness of the act struck her wrong, the convenience of it felt almost indecent in the enclosed quiet of their shared room.
There's a bathroom and a folding screen, what the hell!?!
Aurelia's face flushed before she knew why. She turned her head and closed her eyes in a pose of offended propriety. Scandalous, she thought in a panic.
He acts as though we were in the privacy of a home. How very improper.
"Why are you being so... casual?" she demanded, eyes still shut tight. The words came out thin with an awkward mix of reprimand and something she didn't want to name.
Kael's laugh was soft, without mockery drifted to her. "I'm getting ready," he said, as if that explained everything. "We have a lecture first thing. I don't like being late."
When she risked a peek, the briefest, most guarded glance, she saw the line of his shoulder, the lean muscle along his back as he bent to pull on trousers, the strong jaw he'd held so impassively in the arena.
There was nothing aristocratic about him in the obvious ways, yet the ease of his form and the way his muscles moved under his uniform suggested years of work, not pampering. He was not the ragged urchin of village gossip, he was built, weathered, and plainly capable.
Is he truly a commoner? Or have I mistaken his shape all along?
Guilt and a curious, unwelcome admiration flickered across her. The room felt smaller, and for the first time since dawn, she did not want to rise solely on the fuel of pride.
They threaded through the hallway, the Academy's stone cool beneath their boots. For a few heartbeats, the corridor felt private, just their two shadows sliding between pillars, then Aurelia felt his weight again at her shoulder.
Why won't he just leave me alone?
Irritation prickling like a nettle, "Must you walk so close?" she asked, keeping her voice clipped.
Kael glanced at her, expression open in a way that annoyed her more than any sneer could. "We came out together," he said simply. "And we're headed to the same lecture. It's practical."
Practical. The word sounded like a dare. "Then be practical behind me," she shot back. "Not at my side."
He gave the faintest lift of his mouth, no indulgence, no triumph, only a small, precise smile, as though he'd expected the answer and found it pleasingly predictable. "Roommates should be acquainted," he said. "It makes chores and schedules easier."
Roommates. How brazenly ordinary he makes everything sound, despite his talent. It's almost annoying me.
Aurelia clicked her tongue and let her shrug speak volumes. "Do as you please," she muttered.
Kael did not push, and he did not fall back, either. He kept his pace level with hers, the space between them a steady, stubborn line.
Why does it feel like I'm the one being placed on the map, and he the cartographer?
They entered the lecture chamber as one of the last groups, and the room folded around them, benches spiraling down to the stage, carved sigils catching stray shafts of light, Aether bits quivering like trapped fireflies.
Nobles clustered in the nearer rows, their silks a deliberate show of color. The commoners huddled farther back, faces open with the kind of hunger only a place of learning could feed.
Prince Lucien sat near the center, an island of gilded calm. His gaze moved across the room like a practiced blade, stopping for a fleeting moment on Aurelia, where a faint, measured interest could be read as either approval or appraisal. He inclined his head just enough to make sure she noticed.
He's been like this since childhood, acting on a stage. What's behind his polished, cruel smile? Does it hide complexities, secrets, and ambitions beneath charm and calculated allure?
Archmage Veyron's portrait watched from above the platform, and his presence seemed to settle everyone's shoulders like a storm's hush steadies a field.
Aurelia slid into her seat with the practiced grace of one who had always been expected to sit there.
Around her, nobles clustered into bright knots: silk gleamed, laughter tinkled, and the soft clink of signet rings made an undercurrent of entitlement.
Mirielle Harken angled a fan and tossed Aurelia a look that was all teeth. Cassian Orrel lounged beside the prince, his posture designed to take up space and attention.
Prince Lucien gave a small, polite smile that conveyed sheer amusement.
"Miss Caelistra," he murmured, loud enough for the nearest rows, "Are you mending your temper with lessons, or letting it grow into an interesting new vice?" His voice carried both tease and threat.
Aurelia's cheeks warmed, but she forced a neutral mask.
Do not rise. Contain it. They must not see the tremble.
The old scripts of etiquette clicked in her jaw like armor.
Smile, nod, be the Caelistra they expect. Be in control. Do not let your emotions overwhelm you.
She folded her hands, keeping her face still while the old burn of humiliation trickled at the edges of everything.
Instructor Malrec clapped his palms, and the whisper of Aether settled as the motes in the room bent to his will. Today will be composite weaving. Two currents, one flow. You will practice shaping Aether into disciplined forms and then pair to test harmonization, one of the eight types of Aether can be used. Remember, you do not force the world. You reframe it."
Aurelia watched the demonstration nonetheless because watching was how she learned. Malrec's fingers traced an intricate sigil, and the air answered as a ribbon of light spun into a grid and then compressed into a steady prism.
The audience murmured, and the precision briefly hushed even the nobles.
Beside her, Kael sat with a simple slate kept close. He did not preen or posture. He watched as if reading text.
When he drew in breath, it was soundless and measured. She thought he breathed like a metronome, noting the tiny steadiness that had undone her in the duel.
Their pair was called up for the next exercise. Malrec watched them with a faint, speculative crease. "Caelistra and Arden," he said. "Combine and construct a bridge of Aether between those two pedestals. No spectacle. I will judge stability and economy."
Aurelia felt the hall tilt slightly, expectation like wind at her back.
Show them. Prove them wrong. Make it brilliant.
Aurelia stood on her pedestal, determination flowing through her, and glanced at Kael, who was already grounding himself, a calm presence amid her brewing chaos. This time, she was determined to channel his advice in an entirely new way.
With a shared understanding, they began. Aurelia summoned the Aether, letting it pulse through her fingertips, bright and hot, eager to burst forth.
But instead of casting it out in uncontrolled bursts, she paused, remembering Kael's words: Bend Aether rather than trying to overpower it.
Aurelia concentrated, allowing her Aether to pool and swirl, all while feeling for Kael's energy beside her.
She sensed it as a steady, cool stream, almost like a steady heartbeat in contrast to her own vibrant flare. With a soft exhale, Aurelia reached out to connect with that flow.
As she urged her sunfire to stretch, she felt Kael's influence feeding into it. Together, they formed a single current, Aurelia weaving her fire into the steady stream of Aether that Kael provided.
Instead of overpowering it, she worked to bend it gracefully, letting their energies entwine naturally.
Kael mirrored her actions, moving in time with her rhythm. Where she pushed with enthusiasm, he anchored with calm, folding her fiery Aether into a smooth arc.
He guided her with his presence rather than instruction, his focus unwavering, his energy providing a backdrop against which she could flourish.
"Together," Aurelia whispered, more to herself than to him. She began to mold the Aether into an elegant curve, her intent straightforward and clear.
With every breath, she redirected the energy, imagining it as a living entity that could sway and adjust, flowing around obstacles rather than breaking through them.
The bridge began to form between the pedestals, a seamless band of light that hummed softly, resonating with their combined effort.
Aurelia felt a thrill as she realized how her fiery essence was tempered by Kael's steady coolness, creating something entirely new.
With a final flourish, she stretched out her hand and released the last surge of energy, folding the Aether like a ribbon into a perfect arc over the gap.
It held, a brilliant overlay of gold and silver, shimmering with a life of its own. The chamber fell silent around them, everyone watching in stunned awe.
The bridge was not just a display of her fiery spirit, it embodied elegance, stability, and efficiency.
Bend Aether rather than trying to overpower it. When you release a column of Aether, it retains momentum and maintains its shape. Redirect that shape rather than smashing it.
When they stepped back, a ripple of commentary passed through the benches. "Aurelia's sunrise tempered into something useful," a voice snickered. Lucien's laugh followed like a slow clap. "Ah, tempering. How very wise."
Walking back to her seat, Aurelia felt the press of eyes. She became acutely aware of the tiny differences in how she and Kael moved, her gestures were grander, while his were controlled.
He returned to his slate, but as he passed her, he dipped his head, a subtle smile creeping across his face. "You did it," he said, an edge of pride in his voice.
Aurelia's cheeks flushed at his praise, embarrassed by her dependence on a commoner. She avoided his gaze, her heart racing with awkwardness. She forced a sheepish smile, struggling to downplay his compliment.
Kael tilted his head, brows furrowing. "You okay?" he asked, sensing her hesitation. She could only nod, feeling overwhelmed by her embarrassment.
"Hey, it's alright," he reassured her, unaware that his words only deepened her confusion.
During the lecture portion, Veyron spoke of harmonics, explaining how Aether, like music, responds to touch, mood, and grammar.
Aurelia listened, but her mind kept returning to the bridge, the way Kael had channeled her fire without needing to show the room he'd done so.
He's not just better, he thinks differently. The thought had a shape she did not like.
After class, the nobles gathered in a sparkling group beneath the gates. Lucien, as always, stood at the center, a polished sun that drew all the light to himself.
He caught Aurelia's eye and, inclining his head with casual sweetness, said, "Miss Caelistra, had the Academy not been cruel earlier, I might have said you were unrivaled."
The insult hung in the air like a thrown coin. "Perhaps with time, you'll learn that the brightest flame is not always the most enduring."
Mirielle chuckled at his side, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, come on, Aurelia," she chimed teasingly. "Lucien has a point. You're undoubtedly talented, but everyone knows that titles come with expectations. Can you truly live up to them?"
Sensing the rising tension, Cassian jumped in, attempting to smooth over the situation. "Let's not escalate things, shall we? We all recognize Aurelia's potential. Maybe we should focus on that instead?" His tone was light, aiming to diffuse the gathering storm.
But Aurelia held her ground, determination glimmering in her eyes. "I take pride in being a Casterlia," she asserted, her voice resolute. "Yet I can shine just as brightly, with or without a title, forever. My worth isn't determined by my lineage or your opinions, Mirielle."
Kael, standing nearby, quietly interjected, "Endurance is shaped by practice, not by birthright. Aurelia's hard work speaks for itself."
Lucien's amusement didn't wane, if anything, it became sharper. "And who instructs the elite about humility? The schoolmaster? A commoner? How quaint," he shot back, enjoying the sparring match.
Mirielle leaned closer, refusing to back down. "Come on, Kael, you have to admit that titles do carry weight. They matter in our world. Why ignore that?" Her voice was bold, defending Lucien while fanning the flames.
Cassian exhaled, trying to steer them back on course. "Can we please maintain some etiquette? Aurelia deserves respect, she has earned it through her efforts."
Aurelia cast him a grateful glance, but her focus remained fixed on Lucien and Mirielle. "I may lack your belief, Lucien, but the fire within me is undeniable, and it doesn't need anyone's approval. You underestimate my potential."
Kael stood resolutely beside her, adding, "True strength comes from those who are willing to put in the work and persevere."
With a quirked eyebrow, Lucien replied mockingly, "It's an intriguing balance, isn't it? Power and lineage are represented by Aurelia, and a commoner standing beside her, trying to play at noble. Perhaps the kingdom would thrive if we combined these elements, teaching the children of nobles the value of hard work and resilience."
Kael's expression darkened, his frown deepening as he stood firm beside Aurelia. The mockery in Lucien's tone stung, but he kept his gaze steady. "Titles may alter perceptions," he said, his voice steady, "But they don't change the work ethic. True strength blossoms from those who strive through adversity, and Aurelia embodies that ideal."
Suddenly, Cassian came into the picture after being silent for a while, dragging both Mirelle and Lucien away like stubborn cats. "Come on, you two," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Mirellie glared back, her anger palpable. Lucien, on the other hand, maintained a smug smirk, a clear indication that this wasn't over. Cassian glanced back apologetically, sensing the tension.
As the trio moved on, Kael and Aurelia were left standing alone, their thoughts weighed down by the unspoken challenges that lay ahead.
Aurelia felt the old fire rise, not to spectacle but to something colder now, resolve.
Learn. Endure. Unmake what they think they know about me.
Her eyes found Kael's, and for a moment their gazes met, his steady, unreadable, hers flaring with promise.
Whatever this new pattern was, she decided, it would not leave her behind. The Academy hummed around them, and the next lesson had already begun in that hum.
Later, as the yard thinned and students drifted toward the practice halls, Aurelia walked a few paces alongside Kael. He offered no sympathy, no instruction, only a cryptic remark that lingered in the air, "Pride makes for good stories. It is not always good armor."
Their silence felt less like a gap and more like a bridge spanning the distance between them. The Academy loomed around them, a living structure of stone and rune.
The currents of Aether hummed beneath her feet, and she felt them more keenly now, not to claim them, but to understand. It was as if being near Kael enhanced her senses.
But even so, the echoes of the nobles' laughter lingered, their taunts like thorns embedded in her mind. Lucien's voice rose above the rest, silken, cutting, smug. They'll remember this forever. A Caelistra humiliated twice over. Her loss. Her shame.
Beside her, Kael moved with an air of calm that grated against her fraying nerves.
Why doesn't he flinch? Why doesn't he care what they say? It all felt so unjust.
Unable to contain herself, Aurelia spun toward him. "Why did you do that?"
He looked at her with a slight furrow of confusion. "Do what?"
"Don't—don't play dumb." Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "You spoke against Prince Lucien. In front of people. You're a commoner. Do you even understand what that means? You could've been punished. You could've lost everything."
For a long moment, he regarded her, gaze steady and unreadable. Then, with a tone as even as if discussing the weather, he said, "Because you were being cornered. I don't like seeing strength mocked. Title or no title."
The words slipped past the defenses she had meticulously prepared. Aurelia blinked, stunned.
He risked himself... for me?
Her pride flared up again, "I didn't need your help to argue against them, you know."
Kael's lips curved in the faintest smile, warm but unshaken. "I know."
The simplicity of his reply rattled her more than any sharp retort could have. Her chest tightened. Anger, guilt, and something softer churned together, impossible to untangle.
"But still," she pressed, though her voice faltered, "You could have been punished. You took a risk for me."
He shrugged lightly, his calm manner unbroken. "Some things are worth the risk. Even standing against a prince."
Aurelia felt heat prickling behind her eyes, a mix of confusion and something more profound.
Why? Why would he do that? I had humiliated him, spat on his status, treated him like dirt... and still, he defended me.
The realization unsettled and intrigued her equally, deepening the conflict within.
My pride screamed at me to scold and remind him of his place. Yet something else twisted in my chest, heavy and unfamiliar. Guilt. And underneath it, something softer, dangerously close to admiration.
"...Idiot," Aurelia muttered finally, turning away, arms crossed tight against her chest.
It came out sharp, but the edge didn't hold. Beneath it, warmth seeped through, gratitude, admiration, and a dangerous kind of vulnerability.
For a moment, there was only silence. She dared a quick glance from the corner of her eye, just enough to catch it.
Kael's lips curved ever so slightly, not mockery, not arrogance, but something far worse, a quiet, knowing smile.
He knows. He knows I didn't mean it the way it sounded.
"Class is starting soon," Kael said mildly, as though nothing had happened.
Aurelia lifted her chin, masking the storm inside with practiced coldness. "Then hurry up. I won't have my name dragged down because you dawdle."
But his faint smile lingered in her mind long after they walked out the door.